Scene: First Day Back at St. Éclat
The soft morning light slipped through the curtains, casting golden stripes across Siya's modest bedroom. Paris was waking up slowly, but inside her tiny apartment, excitement was already buzzing.
Siya tightened the straps on her bag and gave herself a once-over in the mirror. Neat braid, minimal makeup, and the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
This holiday had been just like every other-no exotic vacations, no parties, just work, chores, and loud laughter from her siblings in the background.
But this time, something was different. Special.
For the first time in her life... Siya Sharma had a boyfriend.
Well, sort of.
A message from Ryan Bosco's private account had come in one random night during the break. One reply led to another. Photos, long chats, inside jokes. The Ryan Bosco-the school's golden boy-was talking to her.
And he wasn't like what everyone said. Not arrogant. Not distant. Just... real.
He listened. He remembered things. He made her laugh.
She tightened her grip on the straps of her bag and looked up.
"This year is going to be different," she whispered to herself.
What she didn't know was... it already was.
Siya's POV
I don't know why... but something feels off today.
Maybe it's the butterflies. Or maybe it's something deeper-something I can't name yet.
Today isn't just the first day back at St. Éclat after summer break.
Today, I'm going to meet my secret boyfriend.
Yes, you heard that right-boyfriend.
It all started on a random night when a message popped up on my phone. A private account.
I almost ignored it-because who even texts me?
But the name stopped me cold: Ryan Bosco.
The golden boy. No-scratch that. The diamond boy of our school.
There's a whole myth around him. His walk could silence hallways. His smirk could ruin lives.
And in St. Éclat, it's practically a badge of honor to have had a one-night stand with him.
But me? I wasn't into all that.
I was invisible. A ghost passing through the corridors. And for him? I didn't even exist.
We're complete opposites.
He's the social guy with the spotlight burning for him.
And me? I barely speak to people unless the subject is math.
So yes, when I first got that message, I thought it was some cruel prank. Why would someone like him even know I breathe?
But he messaged again. And again. And soon... it became our thing. Late-night chats, inside jokes, real conversations. He wasn't the Ryan everyone saw in school. He was just... Ryan. With me.
And I guess, somewhere in that mess, we slipped into something more. Something that felt like a relationship.
It happened right after my world collapsed.
My two-year relationship? Over.
He chose my best friend. Yeah. That stung like hell.
I shut myself off after that-locked away, uninterested in anything or anyone.
And that's exactly when Ryan Bosco-unexpected, unreal-stepped in.
Every single day of summer, we talked. About everything.
And now... I'm going to see him. In real life. For the first time since it all began.
I should be excited.
I am.
But deep inside, there's this strange, uneasy feeling clawing at me.
What if something's not right?
Shrugging off the swirl of thoughts in my head, I headed downstairs.
My mother was already up, her hands busy feeding my three younger siblings, her smile tired but warm-like always. The chaos of breakfast, clinking spoons, and laughter grounded me for a moment.
I grabbed my toast, kissed her cheek, and slung my bag over my shoulder.
No dramatic goodbyes. No special send-off.
Just another day.
Except it wasn't.
Because today... I was going to see him.
With my heart tucked somewhere between excitement and fear, I stepped out and made my way to school.
The gates of St. Éclat stood tall and polished, just like every other year. But today, they looked different. Maybe because I was different.
I stepped onto the familiar campus, and the noise hit me like a wave-friends reuniting, laughter echoing through the courtyard, the scent of fresh notebooks and expensive colognes. Same crowd. Same chaos.
And then...
there he was.
Ryan Bosco.
Standing across the lawn, surrounded by his usual circle. His perfect hair ruffled by the wind, basketball tucked under his arm, that signature lopsided smile curving his lips like it belonged to royalty.
My heart stopped.
He was real.
He was right there.
I don't even remember walking. My legs just moved on their own-each step pulled by something stronger than logic, stronger than fear.
And when I finally reached him, our eyes locked.
He looked straight at me.
No smile. No recognition. Just... a pause.
Then he said it-words I'll never forget.
"May I know you?"
And just like that...
my world crashed in silence.
---
Ryan's POV
First day back at St. Éclat.
Same cheers, same faces, same pointless small talk.
Everyone was already buzzing around me-talking about the upcoming basketball selections, some party someone expected me to throw, and how I hadn't posted anything all summer.
I tuned most of it out. My mind was elsewhere.
Then I noticed a girl walking toward me. Alone. Purposeful. Eyes on me like she knew me-really knew me.
I glanced behind, wondering if she was heading toward someone else. But her steps didn't waver.
She stopped right in front of me.
No hesitation. No smile. Just a strange... familiarity in her gaze. Like I was supposed to recognize her.
But I didn't.
Not her face. Not her voice. Not even a faint memory.
I frowned slightly, trying to stay polite.
"May I know you?"
Her expression cracked, just a little.
And for some reason... I felt like I'd just broken something important without even knowing what it was.
.............
Siya looked straight into his eyes, steady but nervous.
"I'm Siya... Siya Sharma.
The one you talked to all summer vacation."
Her voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the meaning behind it.
The countless late-night messages, the shared secrets, the laughter-they all led to this moment.
And now, standing face to face, the reality was sinking in.
Ryan didn't recognize her.
Not yet.
Siya's POV
"I... I'm Siya. Siya Sharma," I said, my voice barely holding steady. "The one you talked to... all summer."
The words left my lips with the weight of every sleepless night, every message, every moment I thought was real.
Tears burned in my eyes, sliding down before I could stop them.
People around us had started to laugh. I didn't need to look-I could feel it.
The snickering. The whispers.
The way they stared at me like I was some obsessed fool, a delusional girl dreaming of a fairytale with the school's golden boy.
And then came his voice. Calm. Cold.
"The one I talked to all summer?"
He let out a short breath, cocking his head slightly, one brow lifting.
"Is this some kind of prank? Or... are you the victim of a truth-or-dare game?"
It felt like a slap.
A part of me shattered right there-surrounded by the very people I used to avoid.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
This wasn't how he was supposed to look at me.
"Yeah right... truth and dare game," I muttered, forcing a pathetic smile. My voice cracked, but I hoped no one noticed.
And then, before the weight of more stares, more whispers, more humiliation could crush me-I turned away.
I had to.
To save what little of me was still intact.
My world had collapsed in seconds. Everything I believed, every message, every late-night call, every soft promise... turned to dust. But I wouldn't let anyone see the ruin.
Not now. Not here.
Ryan wasn't to blame.
He stood there, still glowing like he belonged to a different universe-untouched, perfect, golden.
And me?
I wasn't even a wooden stick in that world.
I was just... invisible. A background blur that got caught in a cruel illusion.
I'd been fooled.
Fooled by someone who wore his name, spoke in his voice, and sold me a dream stitched from lies.
And stupidly, I bought every word of it.
I was moving as fast as my pride would let me-head down, breath caught in my throat-when I suddenly bumped into someone.
Books scattered. My heart jumped.
"Watch where you're going," came a sharp voice laced with practiced elegance.
I looked up and there she was-Clara Dawson.
St. Éclat's very own queen bee. Every strand of her perfect blonde hair in place, her manicured fingers clutching her designer tote like a weapon.
She was everything I wasn't-elite, effortlessly charming, and dangerously close to Ryan Bosco.
Rumor had it they were childhood friends. Some even claimed they were secretly dating.
And by the way she looked at me right now, it was clear-she didn't like surprises in her kingdom.
Her eyes scanned me from head to toe. Cold. Curious.
Then, a sly smile tugged at her lips.
"Didn't think we'd start the term with such... entertainment," she said, her voice sweet but slicing. "So, you and Ryan, huh? Dream big, darling."
And just like that, I realized-if today had cracked my heart, this school was going to shatter it.
Clara let out a laugh-loud, deliberate, echoing down the corridor like it was part of some well-rehearsed performance.
Then, with the confidence only someone born into power could carry, she walked past me like I was invisible dust, and made her way straight to the basketball team-where Ryan still stood, confused, probably trying to process what had just happened.
She leaned toward him, her voice louder than necessary-meant to be heard.
"I honestly don't get it," she said, flipping her hair with a perfectly timed eye-roll.
"How far can people go with their obsession with you, Ryan? I mean-" she turned, pretending not to look directly at me, "-have you seen yourself?"
The boys around her chuckled, a few nodding along, like it was all a joke at my expense.
And I stood there, frozen.
Burning.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to walk away.
Ignore her. Ignore them. Don't give anyone the satisfaction.
But just as I turned the corner, a voice cut through the air-calm, deep, and unmistakably firm.
"You have no right to look down on anyone, Clara."
I stopped in my tracks.
"Everyone is perfect in their own sense. What you just did... that was bullying. And let's not pretend-you obsess over Ryan too. Please don't take it personally, but you know it as well as I do.
Domination isn't a reward, Clara. It's insecurity in disguise."
The corridor fell into a hush.
For once, Clara had no snarky comeback.
And me?
I didn't have to look back to know who it was.
Lucas Dawson.
Clara's twin brother.
Ryan's best friend.
The most idolized senior in St. Éclat-half the girls in school worshipped the ground he walked on, just hoping to catch a glimpse of his sharp, unreadable eyes.
But I didn't stop.
I didn't turn back.
Because I didn't want to be part of another moment where I didn't belong.
So I kept walking.
And with every step, the whispers, the laug
hter, the humiliation... started to fade.
But the questions?
They only grew louder inside me.
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