Morning.
Luke wakes late. Grabs his phone.
No messages.
Not even a meme from Cael. No chaos, no dumb joke. Just missed calls from his groupmates about a project he doesn't care about.
Nothing that matters.
His thumb hovers.
He types something stupid—something Cael would roast him for. Deletes it. Types again. Deletes that too.
His chest feels off. Not panic. Not yet. Just wrong. Like a rhythm skipped.
Usually by now, Cael's blown up his notifications—some dramatic "Wake up, idiot" or a cursed TikTok link with zero context.
Now?
Just silence.
During class Luke were spacing out, When suddenly the teacher starts the role call
"Mr. Reyes?"
Silence.
"Mr. Mikael Reyes?"
Luke blinks. Looks up from his blank notebook.
The teacher glances around. "Anyone? No?"
A few murmurs. No one answers.
Then the teacher's eyes land on Luke. "Mr. Lucas Treyton. You're usually glued to that boy. He didn't tell you he'd be out today?"
Luke startles. "No, sir."
The teacher frowns, clicks his pen, moves on. " Ms. Salazar?"
But Luke's already somewhere else. The space beside him feels colder now—chair empty, desk untouched. Cael's ridiculous doodles aren't scrawled in the margins. His phone isn't buzzing. His bag isn't slumped against the leg of his chair like usual.
Luke looks down. He's been holding his pen the whole time, but the page in front of him is still blank.
He tries to write a date. Just the date. But his hand won't move.
Lunch bell rings.
Luke heads toward the tree.
Their tree.
He doesn't rush. Doesn't want to look like he's looking. But his heart's already halfway there, beating too fast for how slow his steps are.
The spot comes into view.
Empty.
No bag. No loud voice. No Cael pretending to nap with one eye open. Just sunlight cutting through the leaves and a couple wrappers drifting in the grass.
Luke sits anyway.
Pulls out his phone. Pretends to scroll. Thumb flicking through screens he's not reading.
Still no message. No meme. Not even a dumb typo-filled rant about cafeteria food.
He sets the phone face down.
Fifteen minutes crawl by.
A bee hovers near his shoe. A pair of students laugh behind him. Someone's Bluetooth speaker plays something tinny and bright.
Luke doesn't move. Doesn't eat.
The bell rings again.
Back to class. Everyone else moves. He doesn't.
Eventually, he stands. Walks. Keeps his head down until he gets to the gate.
That's where Cael usually finds him—spinning his keys, chewing gum like it's a competition, flinging nonsense about post-school snack plans.
Today? Just the crowd. Loud and living.
Luke scans every face.
Someone bumps his shoulder. He barely reacts.
Then—just for a second—he thinks he sees him. Black hair. Familiar height. Same slouch.
He calls out. "Cael—"
The boy turns.
Not him.
Wrong laugh. Wrong eyes. Wrong.
Luke swallows whatever else was about to escape his throat. Feels it burn on the way down.
The sun's too bright. The noise is too much.
He steps back from the gate. Just a little. Like his body won't let him leave yet. Like it's still waiting for something to catch up.
He pulls out his phone again.
Still nothing.
The ache in his chest sharpens—not a scream, not yet. Just a pulse that keeps saying: He should be here.
Luke pockets the phone.
And walks.
Late afternoon. Luke decided to head to Cael's apartment
Luke knocks. Harder than he needs to.
No answer.
Doorbell. Nothing.
He calls. Once.
It rings. Then dies.
Again. Straight to voicemail.
Luke presses his forehead to the door. Then slides down, sitting on the step. Quiet. Lights off. Curtains drawn. No sign of life.
He stays.
Until the neighbors turn off their lights. Until it feels like the world's already forgotten Cael ever existed.
But Luke hasn't.
So he waits. Just in case.
Next Morning. Police Station.
Missing Person Report.
Cael Reyes. 18. Last seen: Thursday, after school. 5'10. Slim. Brown eyes. Black hair. Slight curl. Usually wears silver rings on his right hand.
The officer writes it down. Barely fills half the sheet.
Luke grips the edge of the desk. "He's loud. Friendly. Stupid in the best way. Sends memes at 3am. Fights over playlists. Yeah, he disappears sometimes—but not like this. Not without a word. Not to me."
The officer doesn't write that part.
Luke wants to scream.
He gives everything—hangouts, routines, tells, favorite hiding spots.
The officer nods. Scribbles.
Still half a sheet.
Luke wants to scream.
Cael wouldn't leave.
Not like this. Not without him.
Later. Back at Cael's Door.
Luke doesn't knock.
He just stands there. Imagines it opening. Cael rolling his eyes, grinning: "You really like me that much."
Luke would say: "You wish."
But nothing moves.
So he walks.
Afternoon at their favorite spot.
Same tree. Same silence.
Luke sits, arms resting on his knees. The wind presses soft against his skin.
He closes his eyes.
Maybe—just maybe—Cael will show. Annoyed. Dramatic. "God, Why are you sulking like that Luke?"
But no one comes.
Just wind.
Then—
Something shimmers.
A thread.
Thin. Pale silver. Almost invisible.
Floating. Unattached. But alive.
Luke blinks. Leans in.
"It's not Cael's." "But it feels close. Too close." "Not tied to me." "But it wants me to follow."
He reaches out.
The thread flinches. Pulls back.
Then stills.
Waiting.
Nightfall.
The thread hasn't moved.
Luke stands.
It drifts toward the woods. Always just far enough to stay out of reach.
He follows.
Tells no one.
In the Woods.
The trees press in. Dark. Cold. Quiet in the wrong way.
Luke walks deeper. Until he knows no one would hear him scream.
So he does.
"CAEL!"
"Where the fuck are you?!"
"You LIAR!"
"You said you believed me!"
His voice shatters.
"So why do I feel like I'm going crazy?!"
No reply.
Only wind.
He drops to his knees. Breathing hard.
The thread sways just ahead. Waiting.
Silence.
Cael's POV
Somewhere quiet. Cut off from the world.Not lost—gone on purpose.
Cael sits still, fingers pressed to the cold floor. The air's changed—tight, buzzing.
He knows Luke is close. He feels it.
Like the moment before lightning strikes. Like a hand reaching out that never quite touches.
"Don't look for me, Luke.""Please.""You'll get too close.""And once it sees you…""…you won't come back the same."
His voice cracks—but he keeps going.
"This is the only way."
Somewhere, just outside the silence, something waits.
But Cael doesn't move.