The door clicked shut behind him, but the whirlwind in Julius's mind raged on. He slipped into his seat for the last class of the day and felt it instantly—that sinking sensation, like a thousand invisible eyes were drilling into his skull. Eyes full of judgment. Contempt.

  He glanced around to confirm the feeling.

  He was right.

  Public enemy number one.

  Julius had expected guilt. Maybe sadness. Even regret.

  But none of those came.

  Instead, he turned toward the window, letting his thoughts drift.

  He felt... good.

  Like a weight had finally been lifted. Years of silent rage and buried sadness—unleashed, at last, on the one who had caused it all. He knew what he'd done. He had broken someone's heart.

  And yet, there was no remorse.

  Only a strange, cold satisfaction.

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  It felt wrong. Taboo. For someone like him to savor something so dark, so bitter.

  But denial was no longer an option.

  Something had changed inside him.

  His heart was steeped in malice now.

  And still, he didn't feel powerful—just hollow. Like everything he'd carried had collapsed inward, leaving nothing behind.

  He tried to collect himself. On the outside, Julius looked calm—maybe even cold. Distant. Like a specter. But inside, his mind was a storm. He barely recognized himself anymore. He imagined the life he could've lived if he'd made a different choice. If he'd just said yes.

  Around him, he felt the weight of silent stares. Judgment. Fear. Maybe even awe.

  But none of it mattered now.

  As always, he turned to music to drown it all out.

  No use.

  No chance.

  No escape.

  He was a prisoner—trapped inside his own mind.

  The final bell rang, snapping him out of the trance.

  Mentally drained, he slipped on his headphones and headed home.

  The driveway was empty when he arrived. Both his grandparents' cars were gone. A doctor's appointment, maybe. Whatever the reason, he allowed himself a small smile. He loved them, but when they weren't home, he could finally do the one thing he never dared in their presence.

  He walked to the far wall, slid open a wooden compartment, and gently lifted the cover.

  A piano—gleaming softly in the dim light—waited in silence.

  This was his second calling, just after writing. And while he often played when they were home, there was something sacred about playing alone. With no one to hear, he could be as loud, as raw, as unfiltered as he wanted.

  And in that solitude, maybe—just maybe—he could find a piece of himself again.

  His fingers touched the keys.

  And then, everything fell away.

  No fear. No doubt. No thoughts at all.

  Only Julius and the notes.

  He reached a state just shy of nirvana, suspended in a world made only of sound. Until—

  Bzzz.

  The phone buzzed. He startled, breath catching in his throat. Half-expecting a message from his grandparents, he reached for it with instinctive eagerness.

  One new message.

  It was from Max.

  His eyes widened.

  His breath hitched.

  The piano fell silent.