Chapter 27 - The Things We Don’t Say

Chapter 27: The Things We Don’t Say

ABIX had never been a group that needed constant affirmation.

They weren’t the “I love you” types.

They didn’t hug often.

Didn’t do heart-to-hearts every time someone had a bad day.

Instead, they showed up. With bubble tea. With silence. With space.

But lately, the unspoken things had started to collect—like dust in the corners of a familiar room.

Crystal’s Quiet Pressure

Crystal had always been the burst of colour.

The firework. The big laugh. The plans and puns and pep.

But now, in her quiet moments—between meetings, at red lights, brushing her teeth—she found herself asking:

Is this it?

She was leading projects. Making impact. Hitting KPIs.

But sometimes, she missed being small.

Missed being allowed to fall apart.

She hadn’t told anyone.

Because who would expect the sun to admit it was tired of shining?

Ivan’s Guilt

Ivan had always known what he wanted.

Since Secondary 4, he had Amanda. Since JC, he’d known he’d do engineering. Since university, he’d worked toward the train system.

Everything was logical. Efficient. Expected.

But recently, there were cracks.

Days where he stared at his screen and thought: If I disappeared for a week, would anyone notice?

He still showed up. Still delivered.

But he hadn’t told ABIX that some nights, he sat in his room, wondering if he was really living, or just performing routine after routine.

Because Ivan didn’t talk about feelings.

He managed them.

Isabelle’s Uncertainty

She was supposed to be okay now.

Graduated. Employed. Independent.

But the truth?

She felt lonelier than she had in school.

There were nights she wished someone would knock on her door just to say, “You don’t have to carry this alone.”

But the world didn’t work like that.

So she smiled.

She taught.

She messaged the group when she had energy.

And stayed quiet when she didn’t.

Because if she said something, they’d worry.

And worrying felt like an inconvenience.

Aleem’s Stillness

Aleem had grown more introspective since Penang.

Not sad.

Not distant.

Just… quieter.

He was with someone now. Slowly, gently. The beginnings of something that mattered.

But even love didn’t erase the weight he still carried—questions about identity, purpose, the shape of adulthood he hadn’t quite settled into.

He thought often about the past.

About who he used to be in NTU.

About how ABIX had kept him whole before he even realised he was breaking.

He wanted to say thank you.

But it felt too big for a sentence.

The Night It Almost Spilled Over

It was a late dinner. Just three of them—Crystal, Isabelle, and Aleem. Ivan had OT.

They sat at a quiet nasi lemak stall, not really eating. Not really talking.

Then Isabelle said, softly, “Do you ever feel like you’re… not keeping up?”

Silence.

Then Crystal: “Every day.”

Aleem nodded. “Yeah.”

Just that.

Three voices. Three simple answers.

But in that moment, something in each of them loosened.

Not solved.

But named.

And that was enough.

Later That Week

Ivan messaged the group:

Ivan: Sorry I’ve been quiet. Just… been in my head lately.

Isabelle replied first:

Isabelle: Same here.

Then Crystal:

Crystal: It’s okay to disappear sometimes. But we’ll always be here when you come back.

Aleem’s message came last:

Aleem: Not everything needs to be said. But I see all of you. Always have.

No replies after that.

Just silence.

But this time, it felt full.

Not empty.