LOGINEthan’s POVMy birthday started before the sun even finished waking up.I woke to a low hum of activity outside—nothing loud yet, just that rhythmic sound of chairs being dragged across the grass and distant voices calling out instructions. When I pulled back the curtains, I saw the transformation. My backyard looked like a movie set. Lights were being strung between the trees, and the setup was way bigger than anything I’d expected.Papa doesn't do "small." Mama always says he likes to make moments feel unforgettable. Looking at the scale of this, I guess ten was supposed to be one for the books.By the afternoon, the place was packed. The air smelled like grilled food and expensive cologne. Music was thumping, low enough to talk over but loud enough to feel. I should’ve been on top of the world. I was smiling, laughing, and shaking hands with family friends I barely knew.."Happy birthday, little man!""This is insane, Ethan!"I said all the right things. I played the part. Jules sh
Ethan’s POVBirthdays used to be so simple.There was a routine to it: the smell of chocolate cake, too much noise, Mama smiling until her cheeks ached, and Papa pretending he didn't care about the logistics even though he’d been planning the whole thing for a month.Now, it feels like a test. Or maybe a trap.I sat at my desk, staring at the small stack of invitation cards Mama had made. They were neat, printed on heavy paper with my name at the top. It was the kind of thing that should have made me excited, and I was technically. It just wasn't that easy, chest-bursting kind of excitement I used to have."Are you going to keep staring at them, or are you actually going to hand them out?" Jules asked, leaning over my shoulder."I’m getting to it," I said."You’ve been 'getting to it' for ten minutes, bro."I shrugged, sliding the cards into my bag. "It’s a big deal. You only turn this age once."He snorted. "It’s a party, Ethan, not a summit meeting. Let’s go."The hallway was a mess
Isabella’s POV.I saw him the second he walked through the doors.I wasn’t even looking for him. That’s the lie I keep telling myself, anyway. But my eyes have developed this magnetic pull they find him in a crowd of hundreds like it’s a reflex. Like breathing. For a heartbeat, everything felt okay again. I actually let myself believe today would be the day the air cleared. I could almost see it: him walking over, that lopsided smile on his face, a quiet "hey" that would make the last forty-eight hours feel like a bad dream.Then his eyes met mine. Just for a flicker of a second.My heart did that stupid, hopeful lift, the one I couldn't stop if I tried. And then, he looked away.He didn't just look away; he looked through me. He kept walking, his stride steady and purposeful, right past my locker as if I were part of the architecture. Just another face in the hallway.I didn't move. I couldn't. I just stood there with my hand frozen on the cold metal of my locker door, my brain tryin
Ethan’s POVThe night dragged on, heavy and suffocating in a way that had nothing to do with the heat.Dinner was a blur of practiced normalcy. Mama asked if the chicken was too dry; Papa mentioned something about a project at work. I played my part, nodding in the right places, offering the occasional "yeah" or "cool." To anyone looking through the kitchen window, we were just a typical family finishing a Tuesday. But my head was a thousand miles away, stuck in a loop that always ended with her face.When I finally escaped to my room, the silence felt different. It wasn't the peaceful kind of quiet you want at the end of the day; it was the kind that makes your ears ring. I shut the door, the click of the latch sounding like a final period at the end of a sentence.I collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling remnants of a childhood that felt like a lifetime ago."What is the problem?" I muttered to the empty air.The ceiling didn't answer.I rolle
Ethan’s POVBy the time I got home, the air already felt thin.It wasn't anything I could see. The apartment building looked the same same chipped paint on the radiator, same muffled sound of the neighbor’s TV through the walls. My keys turned in the lock with that familiar, metallic click, but when the door swung open, the silence of the hallway seemed to follow me inside.I dropped my bag by the door. It hit the floor with a heavy, dead thud that echoed a little too long. The kitchen smelled like garlic and something savory—Mama’s cooking—but for the first time, the scent didn't make my stomach growl. It just felt like background noise."Mama?" I called out."In here, Ethan," she answered from the kitchen.I walked in, my movements feeling stiff and slow. She was standing by the stove, stirring a pot with one hand while the other pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She looked calm, grounded, like the world hadn't shifted on its axis since this morning. But the second she tur
Isabella’s POVThe car ride home was suffocating. It wasn't that comfortable, easy silence where you can just lean your forehead against the glass and watch the world blur by. This was heavy—a thick, physical weight sitting right on my ribs, making every breath feel like a chore. I kept my hands locked in my lap, staring at my cuticles as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. Anything to avoid looking at her.Mama was on the phone. Again.Usually, her work voice is just busy, but today it was sharp cold enough to draw blood. "I don’t care what the retainer is," she snapped into the receiver. "Just fix it. I want the narrative handled." She exhaled, a slow, controlled hiss of air. "No. I’ll deal with the girl myself."She clicked the phone off and tossed it onto the leather seat between us. The silence that followed was worse than the shouting."Isabella Darling."I sat up straighter, my spine hitting the seat back. "Yes, Mama."She didn't look at me with worry. She loo
I wake up without the panic this time. No alarm screaming. No Mama calling my name from the kitchen. No feeling like the day is already chasing me. The apartment feels quiet in a different way, like it’s waiting instead of pushing. I lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, at the thin crack
SIDE STORY I wake up before the alarm because the apartment always wakes first.Paris makes sounds even when it’s trying to be quiet. Pipes knock like they’re clearing their throats. A scooter complains somewhere below our window. Someone laughs too loudly for this hour and then apologizes to no o
Roman’s POVI should’ve left.Should’ve turned my back and walked out like I always do when things start to crack open inside me. But her voice God, her voice kept echoing in my head.“I just wanted you to love me enough to ask me why.”That line tore something inside me wide open. Because the trut
Ariana's POVThe silence in my mother’s house was different.It wasn’t like Roman’s, all tension and unspoken words.This silence was old. Familiar. Like it had always lived here, hidden beneath the creaking floors and tight smiles. A silence that said everything without saying anything at all.I s







