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Water drops rippled the lakelet’s surface. Cold wind flew by, making him shiver and giving him goosebumbs. He didn’t even notice, completely mesmerized with the reflection the water provided.
Oliver nearly didn’t recognize himself.
His hair was longer. The well-tended hairstyle was gone, replaced by hair sticking out of all sides, messy and soiled. There was something haunted in his eyes, something he’d never seen in them before, and it was highlighted by the shadows under his eyes. His skin was suntanned, his body toned up and, although he ate less than before, he gained weight and more importantly muscles.
The person staring at him from the water wasn’t the same Oliver that used to stare at him from mirrors. This Oliver looked wild and weary – and experienced in the worst way possible.
Somewhere along the way, the cuts and scratches faided and turned into scars. There were two most prominent; one from Yao Fei’s arrow and the other from Billy’s torture.
Slowly, Oliver raised his hand and touched the wounded arm. He watched the reflection do the same, not quite comprehending that this was his imagie, that this was him.
Oliver had a few scars already. It was inevitable with his scandalous past. But it was never scars like these. They never hurt so much, they never carried a story, they never tore off a part of his heart.
Until now.
Because these scars weren’t just results from falling over in his drunken state or punching someone or something.
These scars changed him. Changed the way he looked at the world.
Behind each of these scars, no matter how long or short or visible they were, was a history. There was an event that led into action and consequences. There was an attempt to stay alive, a fight for bare survival.
Oliver stared at the reflection as if it was the first time he saw himself. And maybe it was. Maybe it was the first time he himself saw what was hidden beneath the spoiled billionaire.
On the island, it wasn’t about money or personality. It was only about survival and skills.
It was about who comes out of a fight as the winner. It was only about what will be left of the Oliver he once were when if he ever manages to come home.
He run his fingers over the scars, feeling the devastated skin.
Oliver never thought scars could change someone so much, not until they changed him. Not until they left him bleeding and raw, until they left him questioning what was worth it and what wasn’t.
And for the first time in his life, Oliver realized that deciding who he will become was in his own hands.