H E R M I A

The headlines wouldn't stop.

"From Tomboy to Icon: Hermia Jones' Rise to Fame."

"The Ball's Crown Jewel-Hermia Stuns in Custom Gown."

"The wedding of the century coming up."

They even went as ahead to plaster my face on every page, every blog, every trending reel. The last photo Lizzy sent me was of a magazine cover. Me caught mid-laugh beside Cameron, his arm slung easily around me like we were some Hollywood couple with a picture-perfect future.

I was the talk of the media, but deep inside, I still felt like a fraud in borrowed heels.

Lizzy and Sally couldn't stop squealing. "This is insane, Herms!" Sally had practically jumped on my back the night of the ball. "I knew you were hot, but this is the cover-girl level!"

"She's not wrong," Lizzy chimed in, holding her phone up for me to see. "You've gone viral. Everyone's talking about that dress, that hair, your transformation. It's like... you bloomed. Thanks to me though, hehe."

"And don't forget you're dating one of the most eligible bachelors, girl." Sally said with so much excitement.

I smiled, nodded, laughed in all the right places. But something at the back of my mind kept whispering: Is this what you really want? Or are you just running?

A few days later, I went for a jog around the neighbourhood. My chest felt tight with emotions I couldn't name, and running helped me outrun them. Until it didn't. I was in my black tracksuit, hair tied up, no makeup, face flushed from the sprint. I had no intention of going anywhere fancy, but muscle memory carried me to the small coffee shop two blocks away from my place. The one with the chipped blue door and the smell of cinnamon.

I walked in, breath steadying as the air conditioning hit my skin, and immediately spotted him.

Aaron.

Sitting by the window with the best wedding planner in town was the guy who still made my heart skip a beat. I froze mid-step and was about to turn when I paused again.

He hadn't seen me. Thank God.

He looked... different. Cleaner cut. Distant. Still magnetic in the way he always was, but surrounded by a kind of chill I didn't remember. His fingers were gesturing lazily to a catalog on the table, while the famous wedding planner, Iris Ree leaned in with enthusiasm.

A wedding planner?

I blinked, trying to piece it together, then I remembered Courtney.

Of course.

I kept walking, slower now, half in a daze, and stopped at the counter. "One vanilla oat latte. H, please," I said quietly.

I tapped my card and stepped aside, watching the machine hiss steam into a paper cup. Just as I picked up my phone, Cameron's name popped up on screen.

Cameron: Hems, last-minute shoot. Studio needs you in 20. You free?

I swallowed a sigh and typed back: On my way.

I turned without waiting for my coffee.

I was already a few strides outside when I remembered my coffee. I tuned back around with the effect. As I reached for the door, I saw Aaron stand. He walked toward the counter, his back to me, completely unaware. I lingered a moment longer than I should've.

"Here's your latte," the barista said to him.

He frowned. "I didn't order-"

"Oh. I'm so sorry. Someone did but left. I guess you can take it if you'd like it, sir."

What? This guy is so unprofessional! What if I came back in and was ready to pay.

Aaron took the cup and glanced at it. H. Just a single initial, scrawled over the curve of the lid.

I saw him pause. A slow, lopsided smile curved on his lips. I hadn't seen that smile in so long. The kind he used when something pulled at a soft memory. And somehow, I knew what he was remembering.

Years ago, he told me about this time he was handed a soft-serve at a random stall. The cup had a sticker that said "Smile Please" and a bold H on it. It wasn't his. But he took a picture of it. He said he didn't know why it stuck with him.

Maybe I did now.

My feet began to move before I could stop them, and I found myself crouched in the alley beside the shop, my breath shallow, my heart doing double-time.

What was I doing? Watching him like some ghost of my past?

This was dangerous territory.

I couldn't go back to that feeling. That longing. That ache that refused to die no matter how many nights I spent in Cameron's arms convincing myself that I'd moved on.

He had a woman now. One that fit in with his mother's plans, who'd grown up loving him, who made sense.

I was chaos. And Cameron... Cameron loved my chaos.

I got up, straightened my spine, and walked away with a heart that thudded too loudly in my chest.
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Later that evening.

"Your dad called," Lizzy said as she adjusted the lighting setup. "Said it's urgent."

I stared at her like she'd said a ghost called.

"I'm not picking that," I murmured, rubbing my temples. "He doesn't get to do this now."

"You sure?" she asked gently. "It sounded... personal."

I didn't answer. My phone buzzed again, this time with a text.

Dad: You're getting married. That's big. Let's talk. Please Hermia.

I read it twice. Then a third time.

Married. That word still felt like a dream I wasn't sure I was ready to step into. I missed my mom. She would've known what to say, what to do. How to make this moment feel like more than a choice made out of fear of losing something good.

I typed back a simple: Maybe this weekend.

That night, I curled under the blanket, the air conditioner humming above me, and drifted into a sleep that didn't feel safe.

In the dream, I was running.

It was dark, and my legs burned from the effort. I was tailing someone-Daniel.

I knew it was him. The curve of his shoulders. The way he slinked between shadows like he belonged to the night.

Suddenly, he stopped.

I did too.

He turned, and in his hand was a knife.

I backed away, heart pounding.

"Curious little rat," he hissed. "You should've just stayed away."

Then he lunged.

I screamed-and then Aaron appeared.

Just like that. Out of nowhere. Like the damn hero he nevertheless stopped being. He blocked the blade and took the hit.

Blood spread over his shirt like water on paper.

"Aaron!" I screamed, catching him as he fell.

His head lolled against my shoulder, and his eyes found mine. "Shhh... Why did you have to run towards him like that?" he whispered, voice rasping.

My eyes were blurred from the tears building up.

"I didn't mean to... I didn't want-"

"It's okay. Call the emergency line at least or you hate me so much you want to see me dead?"

"Shut up." I slapped his shoulder and hurriedly punched in the emergency line into my phone.

Then sirens, lights and hospital walls came next. I still remember the sterile smell and the beeping machines.

I couldn't breathe. For the first time I realised how much he meant to me.

When I woke, I was drenched in sweat, gripping the edge of the bed like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

Aaron.

That memory had really happened.

He took a stab meant for me. Got hospitalised and bed ridden. He missed an entire school term. I knew he wouldn't have gotten stabbed if not for me, so everyday after school, I checked in on him and became his nanny. His mother hated me for a long time but I negotiated I'd be by his side till he recovered and was back on his feet-in exchange for a promise she wanted from me. The promise I didn't realise would be hard to fulfill when everything ended because we grew closer and something more to just being friends happened between us.

After that year, I couldn't even step into a hospital without breaking into hives now. The scent of antiseptic made me sick. I blamed myself for a long time after that.

And somehow... I still did.
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