All Chapters of His Name Was Never Mine: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The first thing August noticed was how the receptionist frowned at his student ID like it was counterfeit.“You said your name was… August Hale?”August nodded, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his sweater to keep them from shaking. “Yeah. I got the scholarship email last month. I’m supposed to be assigned dorm 3C.”The receptionist looked back at the screen. Clicked. Paused. Clicked again.Then, with a confused smile, she said, “Well, that’s strange. August Hale already checked in yesterday.”August blinked. “I I just arrived. That’s impossible.”She tilted the monitor slightly toward him. On the screen was a check in list, and sure enough, next to August Hale was a timestamp. His name, already signed in. His dorm key issued. His photo… but it wasn’t his.“That’s not me,” he said slowly. “That’s not my picture.”She leaned forward, squinting. “Oh… it does look different.” Her smile faltered. “But the system says everything’s already been processed. I’ll have to call the office.”

By morning, Sebastian was gone.August sat up slowly, half expecting to find the other side of the room still claimed by some fever dream stranger but the duffel bag was there, the closet half-filled, and the faint scent of cedar lingered like it had seeped into the air.The laptop was gone. So was the ID card.It wasn’t a dream.It was real.And somehow, Sebastian Wolfe had made himself real, too wearing August’s name like it was his birthright.He scrubbed a hand over his face and dragged himself to the bathroom. His stomach was sour, nerves fraying at the edges. He hadn’t come here to fight for his identity. He’d come here to vanish into quietness. But this was no fresh start anymore.This was a war he hadn’t signed up for.Orientation was held in the main auditorium, where first-years and transfers packed in beneath glass skylights and warm toned chandeliers. August sat near the back, hunched low, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from scanning the room for him.But part

Three days passed.August kept his distance. Avoided the dorm as much as possible. Ate at odd hours. Took long routes around campus. Sat at the back of every class, ducking behind other students so Sebastian wouldn’t see him.But no matter how many turns he took, Sebastian always seemed to find him.A glance across the library stacks.A figure leaning against a column outside the literature building.A text from an unknown number that simply read:You’re still beautiful when you’re angry.He never replied.But he didn’t delete the message either.By Friday, the anxiety had frayed into something else.Resentment.Not just toward Sebastian, but toward himself for letting this happen, for letting someone rewrite his name, walk in his footsteps, and still command the room like he owned the story.So when Sebastian walked into the café on South Crescent, August didn’t pretend not to see him.He didn’t hide.He watched.Sebastian walked straight to the counter, ordered something black and b

August didn’t remember saying it.But the sound of it lingered in the air between them like smoke clinging to breath.Ash.Sebastian or Ash, if that was the truth watched him now not like a stranger, not like a stalker, but like someone who had waited years for a ghost to open his eyes and finally say his name again.“I never called you that,” August whispered. “Not once.”“You did,” Ash said, voice steady but low. “Only once. Right before you left. You whispered it while you cried in the back of my dad’s broken-down truck. We’d made a promise. You said we’d run away together one day.”“I don’t remember.”“You were ten. I was nine.”August shook his head, stepping back, needing distance, needing clarity. “This is this is insane. That summer was years ago. I barely even remember that house, let alone some boy I might have”“You didn’t forget,” Ash interrupted. “You buried it. And I let you. I watched you bury everything. But I didn’t let it rot. I kept it.”August’s stomach twisted. “W

The word hung between them like a secret exhaled into open air.“Ash.”His name real, raw, buried slipped from August’s mouth before he could take it back.Ash froze. His fingers, previously reaching for the old photograph August had found, trembled slightly before curling into fists at his sides.For a long time, neither of them spoke.The room was dim, lit only by the flickering lamplight on August’s desk. The shadows cast by the bookshelves twisted like silent witnesses. Outside, a soft drizzle tapped against the windowpane, as though time itself was trying to fill the silence.“You remembered,” Ash said, voice hoarse. “You finally”“No,” August interrupted, stepping back. “I didn’t remember. Not exactly. I found this photo, and I saw your face. And then… I just knew.”Ash’s lips parted, something fierce and fragile blooming in his eyes. “That’s enough. It’s a start.”But August wasn’t ready to meet him in that hope. His heartbeat raced, the weight of a thousand questions pressing