Things had changed so much.

  There was shouting in the house.

  Mornings here were now loud in a way grief never was.

  “Where’s my laptop bag?! Seriously, if someone misplaced it again, I am going to scream!”

  Lily’s voice cracked through the hallway. She thundered past Ash in a blur- hair half-dressed, one earring in hand and a hairbrush in the other.

  In the kitchen, their father sat in calm, the eye of the storm. Legs crossed. Newspaper neatly folded. Coffee steaming quietly beside him.

  Ash was crouched near the front shoe rack, trying to tie his joggers with one foot already in the air and the other tangled in a sock.

  From down the corridor came Noah’s voice, sticky with fresh betrayal. “I can’t go to school! I feel really sick!”

  “Noah, for the last time,” their mom sighed, “I checked your temperature. You’re not sick. At all .”

  Ash didn’t say anything. He just exhaled slowly.

  Time had lost meaning before.

  Back when every day bled into the next and there was nothing to look forward to except maybe sleep.

  If that.

  “Ash!” Lily burst into the entryway. “Have you seen my- ugh- whatever. Dad! Hurry up! You said we’d leave by 8:15!”

  At the kitchen table, their father didn’t even blink. He calmly turned the page of his newspaper, sipped his coffee, and said, “It’s 8:12.”

  Lily groaned. Noah wailed louder.

  Now, time was loud. Irritating. Warm. Full of motion. Full of people.

  Ash swung his bag over one shoulder and stepped into the living room. Dad looked up from his paper just long enough to raise an eyebrow- his way of saying good luck out there.

  “Move,” Lily hissed again, barreling past. “I’m gonna be late. I swear if I miss that meeting-”

  “You’ll live,” Ash said.

  “I won’t!”

  She flung open the door and stormed out. Dad finally sipped his coffee, then stood up, adjusting the cuffs of his crisp grey sleeves with that same maddening calmness he always wore.

  “Don’t forget your USB drive,” he called after her, already moving toward the front closet for his coat.

  “I know!” Lily yelled from outside, though judging by the hurried shuffle of footsteps, she’d forgotten exactly that.

  Ash watched them from the hallway- his sister, marching toward the car, and their father trailing behind her like a man who had somehow mastered the art of not letting the world touch him unless he allowed it.

  Lily had started helping him a few months ago. After she moved back in. She said it was temporary, that she’d just help “get things in order” before going back to her own life.

  But she hadn’t left.

  He stood there in the hallway, watching them drive away through the frosted glass of the front door.

  Family.

  The door clicked shut behind them, and suddenly, the house seemed a little emptier.

  Noah was still sulking in the kitchen, poking his cereal.

  Their mom stood nearby, one hand on her hip, the other fumbling with the kettle. She looked tired, before she looked like she was going to cry but she didn’t.

  Of course she didn’t. That’s just how moms are.

  They crack quietly. Where no one can see.

  Ash walked in and ruffled Noah’s hair on his way to the fridge.

  “I hope you have fun at school,” he muttered.

  “If you say so,” Noah said gloomily. “Daddy always says that this world is built on hope.”

  Ash smiled faintly and pulled out an apple. The fruit was slightly bruised.

  So was he.

  So was everyone in this house, in their own quiet ways.

  Noah sniffed.

  Ash smiled.

  Last time things got tough, Ash nearly killed himself on the train tracks.

  No one knew. Not Lily. Not Dad. Not even Noah, and thank God for that.

  He’d gone out there alone, not for drama, not for a cry for help, but because it felt like the only way to stop drowning.

  He hadn’t even cried. Just stood there, bones hollowed out and heart on mute.

  And then the train came.

  And-

  Noah was still frowning, but the crying had dulled to a sniffle.

  Ash reached over and fixed the strap on his backpack. “You’ve got ketchup on this. Or blood. Should I be worried?”

  “It’s jam!” Noah yelled, offended.

  Ash laughed quietly. “Right. Obviously.”

  Lucas had saved him.

  Dragged him back like it was the most annoying thing in the world.

  Ash never said thank you.

  Still hasn’t.

  His mother looked over her shoulder, something warm but tired in her gaze. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged. “Not like he listens to anyone else.”

  I’m not just breathing anymore. I’m actually here, living.

  He straightened up.

  And this time- he walked away without hesitation.

  The bus stop wasn’t far. Ash hadn’t needed to rush, not really. He just kept moving.

  His breath hung in the morning air, waiting for the bus to arrive.

  The city was still waking up.

  Even though Ash had graduated from high school two months ago, he was still friends with Jason and Lucas.

  Funny how Ash had kept them friends, unexpectedly.

  But now, with college underway, Ash had stopped making new friends.

  Two were enough.

  Ash started studying business at college as a major.

  Mostly out of habit.

  His dad was in business, so it seemed like a safe bet.

  He didn’t hate it. But he didn’t love it either. The thought of carving his own path hadn’t felt as necessary as it once had. The world felt so loud and fast. Like it would run him over the second he hesitated.

  Well, business was stable. It was something he could wrap his hands around and say, Look. I did something.

  Blake- the main boss of the bullies, the guy everyone had once feared never came back to school.

  Not after that encounter in the warehouse.

  No one really bullied them anymore after that.

  Whatever weird balance had once existed in their high school ecosystem had shifted completely.

  Ash didn’t mind, really.

  Life without Blake lurking around was kind of… fun.

  It was weird, how easily peace settled in once the storm was gone.

  No more hidden notes.

  No more tense stares across hallways.

  No more games.

  Sometimes Ash still wondered what happened to Blake.

  Where he went.

  If he even remembered any of it the way Ash did.

  But most days, Ash didn’t let his thoughts go there.

  Most days, he was just glad it was over.

  Glad they made it out.

  The bus pulled up with a screech of the brakes, its doors opening with a hiss. Ash stepped up, swiping his card-

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Wait.

  He froze for a moment. His fingers brushed against empty space in his pocket. He checked the other side, his stomach sinking.

  I forgot it.

  His heart sank a little more with each second that passed. The driver was already eyeing him, impatient. Ash stepped forward, hoping against hope the guy would let it slide. But of course, no luck.

  I forgot it. Of course I did.

  He swore softly to himself.

  Well, I can just leave. Walk to college like an idiot. Whatever.

  Just as he turned to head back down the steps, a hand appeared from behind him, brushing past his shoulder.

  No way.

  The card slid into the machine with a soft beep. Ash’s breath hitched for a moment, and he turned around quickly, his eyes locking with someone else's.

  Jason.

  Jason’s eyes met his, dark and unreadable. A quiet acknowledgement.

  Jason was eighteen now, two years older than Ash and Lucas, gone off to the police academy. He’d always joked about it- said he was going to be a cop someday. Ash and Lucas used to laugh it off.

  Jason? A cop?

  He didn’t even wear his school ID properly, let alone follow rules.

  But here he was.

  Going through grueling training. Becoming something that surprised even Ash.

  Maybe people really could change.

  Jason swiped his card without a word, the machine beeping as the doors slid closed behind them. He didn’t even wait for Ash to thank him- he just glanced at him, that familiar half-smile playing at the corners of his lips.

  "Forgot your card?" Jason asked, his voice low, just a hint of humor in it.

  Ash gave a half-smile, a small, tired shrug. "Yeah. Guess I’m just that forgetful."

  Jason’s gaze softened, like he was seeing right through him. "You know, you could just ask me next time."

  Ash laughed quietly. "I’ll keep that in mind."

  The bus rumbled forward.

  Life was damn amazing.

  —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The bus hissed as it pulled up to the curb in front of campus. Ash slung his bag over one shoulder and stepped off.

  He stood there for a second, staring at the building.

  God, this place always looks too clean.

  The campus was buzzing. Students filtered in every direction- some laughing, some half-asleep.

  Ash adjusted the strap on his shoulder and joined the current.

  It’s like being in a dream I never picked.

  He passed a group of students in conversation- voices bright, laughter effortless. One of them bumped into him by accident, barely glancing up.

  “Sorry,” the guy muttered.

  Ash nodded back.

  I don’t know anyone here. And that’s not a bad thing.

  He walked through the double doors, cool air rushing to meet him.

  He kept walking. His eyes dulled on the sight of a familiar room.

  Ash pushed open the door to Room 204.

  The hum of overhead lights, the scrape of chairs, the rustle of notebooks. Too Loud.

  He scanned the room once.

  Second row. Always second row.

  A guy was already sitting in the seat in front of it. Ash slid into the seat behind him, dropped his bag, and slumped just enough to look uninterested but still technically present.

  To his left, two girls were mid-conversation. Loudly.

  “-and I told her, if she’s going to copy my design, at least don’t mess it up-”

  “Oh my god, right? That poster was so bad.”

  Ash blinked once. Twice.

  We’re not even five minutes in.

  He pulled out his AirPods, popped them in, and let the world drown.

  Airpods are God’s gift to introverts.

  No one turned around. No one noticed him.

  Good.

  Exactly how I like it.

  No one talks to me. I don’t talk to them. Win-win.

  The professor walked in, shuffling papers, clearing his throat.

  Another normal day in college.

  —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Ash stepped outside the college building just past noon, squinting against the glare.

  Finally, I’m going to go home, take a nap and wake up tomorrow.

  The sun was out, and the road shimmered like it was about to burst into flames. He dragged himself toward the bus stop, already sweating. His bag hung off one shoulder, half-dead, just like him.

  Seriously. It’s really hot. Although, it’s only May and it shouldn’t. Yet here I am. Witnessing the universe laugh at me.

  One minute.

  Five.

  Seven.

  No bus.

  He checked the road. Then his phone. Then the road again.

  Still nothing.

  Cool. I woke up early, skipped breakfast, and all for this.

  “Great,” he muttered, glancing around like the bus might magically appear if he looked disappointed enough.

  He took a deep breath and was about to turn back when something caught his eye - a paper fluttering weakly on the side of the bus stop pole.

  He leaned in.

  “Notice: No buses today due to maintenance work.”

  Ash just stood there, reading it three more times to make sure it was real.

  ...Are you kidding me?

  He stared at the sign like it had personally betrayed him.

  Then slowly, very seriously, brought both hands to his head.

  I swear, I’m going to pull all my hair out.

  He didn’t. But only because it was too hot to waste the energy.

  He groaned loudly, slung his bag back over his shoulder, and turned around to start the long walk home.

  The sun was even worse now, like it had moved closer just to spite him. Sweat dripped down his neck.

  And just when he was about to pass in front of the market-

  “Ash!”

  He froze mid-step.

  For a second, he genuinely thought the sun had finally fried his brain and he was hallucinating his own name.

  But no. That voice was very real.

  He turned slowly. Please let it be a delusion. Please tell me I’m hallucinating.

  No such luck.

  Lucas stood there.

  Grocery bags in both hands, hair plastered to his forehead, cheeks flushed like an overheated tomato.

  Awesome. Just when I thought today couldn’t get any worse.

  Lucas had taken the plunge into a different college.

  He wanted to major in Computer science- whatever that meant. Ash hadn’t really asked why.

  He wasn’t even sure Lucas knew.

  They were still close, despite the distance. Still texted, still argued over the dumbest things. Still had moments where Ash would get a random photo of a pigeon that made him snort in public.

  But now it felt different.

  Like they were moving in separate directions.

  Like threads tied at the end of a knot, fraying gently.

  Still tethered.

  Just not as tightly as before.

  Lucas had practically graduated while sitting in a hospital bed.

  He’d been stabbed before. Lucas tried to make light of it, as always. Sent selfies from the hospital bed. Tried to convince everyone that the worst part was the hospital food.

  Lucas caught up to Ash, barely keeping his cool. “Ugh, It’s so hot!”

  Ash frowned. “Why are you even out here? Don’t you have college?”

  Lucas rolled his eyes. “It’s canceled. Again.”

  Ash glanced at the bags cutting into Lucas’s hands. “Why?”

  Lucas groaned. “I thought I would love learning Computer science, you know, hacking and stuff. But turns out, I made a huge mistake.”

  Ash hesitated. Should I ask why?

  “Uh…Why?”

  Lucas made a disgusted face. “The college’s seriously lagging. They have less staff and they only teach us three days a week.” He lifted the bags slightly with a sigh. “So I figured I’d grab some groceries. Make Jamie happy so he doesn’t throw me out.”

  Ash opened his mouth to respond, but Lucas beat him to it.

  “Wait. Why are you walking back home like a loser?”

  Can you not ask that? I’m seriously mad.

  Ash exhaled sharply. “Because the bus didn’t come.”

  Lucas blinked. “Oh. Yeah. Right. They’re not running for the next two days.”

  Ash stopped walking. “What?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Don’t you know? There are elections coming up. Whole city’s basically on fire. Protests and stuff.”

  Huh?

  Ash would rarely watch news on television, let alone know what’s happening. No, it was his dad’s duty to watch news updates daily, right?

  Ash didn’t know the drill. Not even close. “What protests?”

  “There’s a big one going on in that city across the river. People from here are taking every bus they can to go support Anthony Jack and his… Ace… uh…” Lucas squinted. “Acecrunches? Acecrews? Whatever they’re calling themselves now.”

  Ash stared.

  Acecrunches? Really?

  “I don’t get it,” he muttered. “Why would people here go to another city just to protest in favor of someone they already support?”

  Lucas gave a humorless smile. “Because people are dumb.”

  Ash narrowed his eyes.

  I agree with you for once.

  “You know,” Lucas added, voice lighter than it should’ve been, “everyone from other cities hates Anthony. So the ones here- they’re going to show support. It’s like a fan war.”

  Ash didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

  He just walked beside him.

  Ash still remembered the day Lucas told him that Anthony Jack killed his dad. Lucas didn’t cry. He just spit the news like a fact.

  He hates Anthony Jack with all his soul.

  They walked in the heat, sweat sticking to their backs, shoes dragging on the melting pavement.

  Lucas kept talking.

  Something about how Jamie was barely home these days- patrolling half the city because of the stupid protests. About Jason always ghosting his gym invites. About how he bought yogurt and forgot the fridge was off.

  Ash didn’t speak. He just listened.

  He always listened.

  —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The classroom was suffocating.

  Miss Emma’s voice echoed at the front of the room, slicing the silence with poetry no one cared about.

  “‘And so the daffodils wept in golden joy…’”

  Ash blinked up at the blackboard, unreadable scribbles of dried inked markers blurred into streaks.

  Why do daffodils even weep? What kind of emotionally unstable flower is that?

  He sighed and leaned back. Today, he sat in the back row. Obviously, he got late again.

  The fan spun lazily above, creaking like it was also done with life. A fly buzzed near his shoe, probably just as bored as he was.

  He zoned out.

  Which was normal. He zoned out a lot in Miss Emma’s lectures. She had this monotonous way of talking, like she was doing the class a favor by existing. Ash never liked her. She dressed sharp, walked like she had glass heels on, and spoke like the words on the textbook weren’t real.

  She never looked at the back row. She never cared when Ash doodled in his notebook instead of paying attention.

  So he didn’t expect her to care today either.

  “Jaydeeen~”

  Ash’s eyes twitched.

  Ugh.