ＤＥＳＩＲＥＥ

Since that day in the dimly lit room, I noticed a change. One so subtle yet undeniable that it scared me.

Wallace had become a constant in my life, a quiet force orbiting closer with each passing day.

There was something different about the way he carried himself around me—deliberate, attentive, as though he was always waiting for the moment I might need him, even if I never asked.

It started small.

Just days later, Wallace continued to weave himself into my life in significant yet understated ways.

He was there when my phone slipped from my hand in the hallway after a freshman bumped into me.

The boy, wide-eyed and stammering apologies, bent to pick it up, but Wallace was faster. His hand moved with practiced ease, scooping up my phone before the boy could reach it.

When Wallace handed it back, his fingers brushed mine. A fleeting touch that left me more breathless than I cared to admit.

"Watch where you're going," Wallace growled at the boy, his tone sharp enough to send the poor kid stumbling back.

I elbowed Wallace in the side, though my reprimand was half-hearted.

"It's fine," I told the boy with a small smile. "Hurry up, you've still got a few minutes before class starts."

The boy nodded quickly and fled.

"You didn't have to scare him," I scolded Wallace, but my words faltered as I remembered last Friday.

Heat crept into my cheeks.

"Thanks," I muttered, avoiding his eyes.

He didn't respond, just nodded and walked away, his hand brushing mine once again.

At lunch, his presence became even more brazen.

As usual, I sat with my circle of friends. I had just set my tray down when a group of sophomores approached, bombarding me with questions about the upcoming Foundation Day.

Before I could muster my usual polite response, Wallace stepped in again, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Fuck off," he said to the crowd of students hovering around me, his tone low and almost lazy.

It wasn't loud or angry, but somehow it commanded attention.

"Can't you see she's having lunch?"

They fell silent, startled by the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

"I'll be in the Student Council room after class," I told them. "I'll explain everything there, okay?"

The group nodded hesitantly, glancing nervously at Wallace before retreating.

"Was that really necessary?" I asked though the words lacked bite.

To my surprise, Wallace set his tray down beside mine and sat, as though this was a perfectly normal occurrence.

Maddison, Sophie, and the others gawked at him. Jaclyn, however, glared at Wallace with barely concealed irritation. He ignored her completely, focusing on his food.

"You're eating here?" I asked, glancing toward his usual table where Audrey and their friends sat.

Instead of answering, he grumbled and continued eating.

Oh well...

I turned back to my friends, who quickly lost interest in him, their conversation veering into fashion trends. Sophie, ever the bookworm, was engrossed in her novel, occasionally picking at her salad.

"Aren't your friends waiting for you?" I asked, leaning slightly toward him.

"Do you want them here?" he countered, raising an eyebrow.

He didn't wait for my response, casting a glare at his friends, who were too busy devouring their food.

"No," I admitted with a small smile.

We ate in silence after that.

And just like that, he continued stepping in when I least expected it. It wasn't that I needed saving, but there he was. Always watching, always ready.

I didn't know what he wanted. Or worse, I didn't know if he wanted anything at all.

Later that night, as I sat in my room, my thoughts inevitably drifted back to him. To the kiss. To every little interaction since.

I couldn't stop the endless reel of questions tumbling through my mind.

Why had he kissed me? Did he mean it? Did it matter to him as much as it mattered to me?

My cheeks burned, and I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

It wasn't just the kiss itself, but everything about it. The way he'd leaned in, confident yet gentle. The way his lips had pressed against mine, left my heart racing.

How had he gotten so good at kissing? Had he kissed... others?

My stomach twisted at the thought.

Had he kissed Audrey? Was I just another in a long line? Another conquest he could shrug off without a second thought?

My fingers drifted to my lips as the memory replayed in my mind, unbidden and traitorous.

I felt like a character in a novel, caught in the aftermath of something too significant to make sense of yet too fleeting to fully grasp.

But I couldn't shake the way he'd looked at me afterward. It wasn't pity. It wasn't regret.

What was it?

What did it mean to him?

What did I mean to him?

I sighed, flopping onto my bed dramatically.

"Why is he so confusing?" I muttered aloud, as though the walls might answer.

๋࣭ °࣪ ִ⭑․𓃠⭒˚.• ݁

Another thing that changed in my daily life was Hansel.

She began appearing in the unlikeliest places—lingering at the edge of my lunch table, quietly browsing the same shelves in the library where I often sought refuge.

At first, I thought little of it, chalking it up to coincidence. But the more it happened, the harder it was to ignore.

Hansel hovered at the edges of my world, neither intruding nor retreating.

Unlike others who pushed their way into my space, Hansel had a stillness about her.

It wasn't loud or demanding, like Franko, who had no filter and could barge into my life whenever he pleased.

Hansel's presence was a whisper, a shadow. And yet, there was a quiet resilience to her that intrigued me.

Our exchanges were brief—nods in passing, soft "hi's" barely louder than a breath. But they lingered in my mind longer than I cared to admit.

Eventually, I found myself seeking her out, lingering in the library a little longer, walking slower in hallways where I knew she might appear.

I told myself I didn't need a friend and that Wallace's advice meant nothing. But deep down, I knew better.

One afternoon, I sat beside her in the courtyard, the sun casting dappled patterns across the stone bench.

She was engrossed in a novel, her eyes flicking across the pages with an intensity that made the world around her seem distant.

I glanced at the cover. A romance. The kind my mother deemed frivolous.

Yet the way Hansel smiled at certain passages, the way her brow furrowed in thought. It was as if she found secrets in the text that the rest of us missed.

Her quiet presence stirred something in me.

That night, I stayed up drafting a piece for my school assignment. It was supposed to be something simple, but it turned into a reflection of Hansel's quiet strength.

When I turned it in the next day, my teacher's surprise was evident. The school theater director soon approached me, asking me to use it in a group audition for the upcoming Foundation Day contest.

At first, I was hesitant. Sharing my work felt like exposing a part of myself I wasn't ready to show to anyone except Wallace.

But Hansel's quiet strength lingered in my mind, urging me forward. I was drawn into planning the performance, even choosing Hansel for a lead role. Her shy acceptance made me believe in the project even more.

Weeks passed in a blur of rehearsals, each line and movement polished until they shone.

Hansel blossomed in a way I hadn't expected, her quiet determination transforming into confidence. Watching her own the stage felt right, as though she was stepping into a moment that was always meant to be hers.

But nothing good lasts.

Rumors started circulating. Whispers behind our backs claimed that the theme of our play didn't suit our group.

They said someone as fake as us couldn't possibly understand vulnerability and emotion.

Ever since the bullying incident Jaclyn had caused with Audrey, some people hated our group no matter how angelic and kind I appeared.

Normally, I wouldn't have cared. I'd let their words roll off me like water, unaffected. But this time was different.

Maybe it was because this project felt too close, too personal. Or maybe I was just tired—tired of always pretending, always having to prove something.

I stepped back, retreating from the spotlight. Hansel took my place, and she was perfect.

Then my mother found out. And once she knew, everything changed.

"You will win this audition," she said with that cold, commanding tone that left no room for argument. "I don't care what it takes. You will be the one on that stage."

Her words were chains, and I wore them as I pulled Hansel from the role without explanation.

The look in her eyes as I reclaimed the spotlight haunted me.

Our group won, of course. But it didn't feel like a victory.

Hansel avoided me after that, her quiet warmth replaced by a chill that would never thaw.

I told myself it didn't matter. Friendships weren't something I needed anyway.

But late at night, alone with my thoughts, the truth whispered otherwise.

Losing Hansel's trust hurt more than I was willing to admit.

☀༉‧

Hey, my lovely readers! 💖

Apologies for the very short chapter!! Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless 💐

Stay tuned🔥things are about to get way more intense.

__melodyshhh 𓇢𓆸