I can see your heart because my vision's clear. My own heart's not blocking it; It died long ago.

"Mr. Fiore!"

…

"Mr. Fiore!"

Joey woke up with a start. His head popped up and he searched around, rubbing his eyes.

"No sleeping in class!"

"…Sorry, Ms. Rodriguez." Naps in class were a part of Joey's new routine.

He discovered that the best poker action happened late at night. The good players would leave and the losers who were stuck deep would stay all night, playing in frantic fashion to get even. Needing money, Joey picked up the habit of playing till morning and sleeping in class. He was one semester away from graduation, so he wouldn't need to put in much effort to get his diploma.

Somewhat refreshed, Joey returned to his studies. In his grasp, the poker book glued into the Spanish binder had his hand-written notes all over it. He'd dived into his poker studies with new vigor. He resolved to stress his mind over even the most challenging problems. If something terrible happened to his mother, he couldn't afford it knowing he could've done more. Every minute. Every spare thought. Everything he had—that's what Joey needed to give.

…

"Raise," Joey announced.

"...Tch…fold."

Joey scooped another pot in the 5-10 game at Pocket Rockets. At that moment, there was a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw a blue-haired beauty smiling at him. "It's getting late. Do you want to play much longer?"

Joey always walked her home after their games. It was their routine, but this time, he couldn't hold back a slight frown. He scanned his opponents...The game wasn't a treasure trove, but it wasn't bad. That meant it wasn't a game he could pass up. Looking at Ellie, he felt many things, but in recent times, there was something new— resentment. It surfaced in these situations during the past few days. 'She's getting in the way...'

Joey stood up and brought her to the side. "A bit later, I need to clean out this fish first."

"…O-ok," Ellie replied. This was the first time Joey didn't leave when she hinted it, but she didn't think too much of it. She knew he was anxious about money because of his mother, so she returned to her game.

Sitting back down, Joey glanced at the 10-20 game where Ellie played and knitted his eyebrows. 'I need to make money…but It wouldn't look good to the fish if a couple played in the same game...' He sighed.

His bankroll was approaching the size needed to go up stakes again. Although the medical bills created significant urgency, he wasn't foolish enough to play over his limits. The battle with cancer would take months, not days. If he took a bad beat and lost his bankroll, that would be the end. Patience. Focus. Ruthlessness to his enemies and to himself—that's what Joey needed to have.

…

"How's your mother?" Ellie asked, as she walked home with Joey from the poker club.

"She's resting…" Joey stared into the distance, preoccupied.

When they reached her building, Ellie looked at him. Ever since his mother became ill, he'd been changing. It's like he didn't see her anymore, or his vision was too narrow to see her. No matter how many times she pulled on the rope tying their hearts together, it was like Joey didn't feel it. She didn't want to pull so hard that it would snap, but she sensed his end getting thinner, making her afraid. She had to tell him. She had to let him know how important he was to her--that he held her whole heart now.

"Joey…" Ellie said with her head down.

He glanced at this beautiful and kind girl.

She looked up into his eyes and revealed a shy, shaky smile that brightened up the scene. "I love you…"

He gazed at her for a long time, before sighing and looking away. "I don't think I'll have time for these walks anymore…"

Every syllable added a crack to her glass heart. Her breathing became heavy. "W-What?"

"I don't think I'll have time…for us anymore…I need to focus on poker."

Shattered. The dust of her heart scattered along the ground, waiting for the wind to sweep it away at any moment. "Y-y-you can't!"

He turned his back to her. "...I'm sorry."

A hurricane of feelings whirled together in Joey's chest, her's...and his. He let it spin. Let it tear up his insides like a tornado of shrapnel. Bits of flesh flew off, but he ignored the pain. The danger of these hurricanes only existed for those that dared to fly, making the solution all too simple; He sawed his own wings off...tore off all attachments to the sky, grounded himself, melted himself into the dense and lifeless Earth.

As Joey walked into the distance, he never looked back. He left Ellie there, kneeling on the ground, sinking in a pool of tears, drowning, clutching and pulling with desperation on a severed rope.

A cold and selfish heart—that's what Joey needed to cultivate.