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Zayn stood frozen in front of the grand black gates of his home. The place he once believed held warmth now felt like a prison dressed in marble and steel. Every cell in his body wanted to turn back, to run away from everything that was waiting inside but he knew. He couldn’t run forever. Today or tomorrow, he had to face them. And so, he stepped in.

The heavy door creaked open and within seconds, his father was there anger etched deep in his face, nostrils flared, phone in his hand.

"What is this?" he hissed, shoving the phone into Zayn's face. On the screen was the video.

The video of Zayn kneeling down at college. Proposing. Crying. Confessing he was six weeks pregnant. The laughter. The whispers. The mockery. It had gone viral.

Zayn didn't reply.

His silence only added fuel to the fire. His father grabbed his shoulder roughly, shaking him, fury taking over compassion. "I am asking you something, Zayn! What the hell is this?! you really have no shame! The entire city is laughing at us! Our name, our reputation you've dragged everything into the mud!"

Zayn stumbled back, breath stuck in his throat. He couldn’t even say a word.

"You're an embarrassment. A disgrace! Just get lost! Don’t ever show me your face again! I hope you just die,you are an embarrassment to this family !"

Tears stung Zayn’s eyes but he held them back. Not here. Not in front of them.

"Dad!" Adric’s voice sliced through the thick air like a blade.

Everyone turned.

Adric stormed in, his face livid. "What the hell are you saying?!"

Their father gritted his teeth. "Don’t get involved in this, Adric. You have no idea what."

"I know exactly what this is," Adric spat, moving to stand between his father and Zayn. "And you are not going to talk to him like that."

"Adric…"

"No. Dad, just stop. You weren’t there when he needed you. You weren’t there when he cried alone in this house. You weren’t there when people mocked him. So don’t pretend now like you’ve earned the right to be disappointed in him."

Their mother tried to interject, voice trembling. "Son,you don't understand ... he's pregnant. And it's all over the college. People are saying such horrible things. The shame."

"Shame? You know what’s shameful? That you care more about the outsider than the fact that your son is breaking apart in front of you."

Adric turned to Zayn, who stood there silently, tears falling now, one by one, staining his cheeks.

He reached for Zayn’s hand and gripped it tightly. "Come with me. You are not going to stay here with them."

Zayn hesitated. But when his father turned away, face filled with loathing, Zayn quietly nodded.

Adric didn’t say another word. He pulled Zayn gently by the hand and walked him out of the house.

They drove in silence. Zayn sat curled up on the passenger seat, holding his stomach like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. When they reached the apartment, Adric helped him inside and placed him gently on the couch.

Then he pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Rhys," he said, his voice low, "come to Zayn’s apartment. He needs you."

Not even thirty minutes later, the door opened and Rhys rushed in. The moment he saw Zayn, curled up like a fragile leaf, his eyes filled.

"Zayn," he whispered, kneeling next to him.

Zayn looked up at him, and for the first time in hours, he let the tears come freely. Rhys pulled him into his arms.

"It's okay," he murmured. "We're here. We're not going anywhere."

Adric stood quietly, watching his younger brother break in front of him. The pain, the humiliation, the betrayal from the one place that was supposed to protect him.

And he promised himself: He would protect Zayn now. No matter what.

---

Adric stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, his face heavy with concern. He turned to Rhys who had just stepped out of Zayn’s room and asked quietly, “Did he eat something?”

Rhys slowly shook his head, his jaw tightening. “No.”

Rhys let out a soft sigh, guilt and helplessness clouding his eyes. “He hasn’t touched anything since morning…”

Adric didn’t say anything. He simply turned to the plate of warm food Rhys had prepared hours ago, picked it up, and said, “Give me the food.”

Without waiting, he walked to Zayn’s room and gently opened the door.

The lights were dim. Zayn was lying on his side, curled up on the bed like a wounded animal. His eyes were open, staring blankly at the wall as if everything around him didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t even flinch when Adric entered.

Adric placed the plate on the side table and quietly sat down beside him on the bed. For a few seconds, he said nothing. He just watched his younger brother the same brother he once used to chase around the house, the one who used to laugh without a care in the world now reduced to silence and scars.

With a quiet voice, Adric spoke, “Zayn… at least eat something.”

There was no response. Zayn didn’t even blink.

Adric leaned a little closer. “Zayn, it’s not good for your baby.”

Still, no movement. Just the same vacant stare.

Adric’s voice turned a little more firm, emotional. “Or do you really not care about this child either? Are you going to punish the baby too… even though he/she didn’t do anything wrong?”

Zayn finally blinked. His eyes, though red and tired, turned toward Adric.

His lips parted, voice cracked and low. “Why are you here?”

That question held weight. It wasn’t just about today. It was about years of silence. Of absence. Of pain.

Adric swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I’m here for my brother,” he said. “The one I should’ve been there for a long time ago.”

Zayn looked away.

“I should’ve never left when things were falling apart,” Adric continued, softer now. “I kept thinking you were strong enough to handle everything… but I was wrong. I let you carry everything alone.”

Zayn didn’t respond, but he didn’t push him away either.

After a moment of silence, Adric gently picked up the plate. “Please,” he said, breaking the quiet, “just a few bites. For your child. For yourself. For me.”

There was a pause. A long one.

And then Zayn slowly pushed himself to sit up, his eyes still downcast. Adric took a spoonful of the food and held it up. Zayn stared at it for a moment… then opened his mouth and took a bite.

It was slow, quiet, and fragile but he ate. One spoonful at a time.

Adric watched him carefully, feeding him with the same patience a parent would have for a sick child. No judgement. No pressure. Just quiet support.

When Zayn had eaten enough, he laid back down slowly, clearly exhausted from even that small effort. Adric placed the plate aside, gently ran his hand through Zayn’s hair, brushing the strands back from his forehead.

“You’ll be okay,” he whispered. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I’ll be here this time. I promise.”

Zayn didn’t say anything. But the way his shoulders loosened slightly, the way his hand brushed near his belly instinctively… it was enough.

Adric got up, pulled the blanket over him, and whispered as he turned toward the door, “Sleep well… I’m just outside. If you need anything, just call me.”

And he stepped out, quietly closing the door behind him.

Outside, Rhys looked up as Adric returned to the living room.

“He ate?” he asked hopefully.

Adric nodded.

Rhys breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Adric sat down on the couch, running a hand through his hair. “He’s still in pain. But… he’s trying.”

Rhys nodded. “We’ll get him through this.”

“Together,” Adric replied.

---

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