Morning – Aira's House, Kitchen
She walks downstairs, slow and careful, like every step might shatter her into pieces too sharp to put back together.
Her hair is brushed. Her face washed clean. Her lips curved into a practiced, painted smile—the kind that fools from far away, but up close… it's empty.
Thomas sits at the dining table, sipping his tea. His eyes flick up to her—cold, dismissive."You're not skipping college again. Go."
Her brother, chewing his breakfast, doesn't even glance at her when he mutters, "Acting like a drama queen again."
"Aww, poor broken doll still wants attention?" Sana's mocking whisper slices through the air, her smirk curling like poison.
Aira smiles.Not too wide. Not too sad. Just enough to keep them from looking too closely."I'm fine," she says softly.
No one looks twice.
Mira glances at her, a flicker of worry in her eyes… but her lips stay closed. Silence wins again.
College Gate
She walks with her headphones in. Not listening to music—just hiding from the world's noise. Her footsteps feel too loud, like everyone can hear them, like everyone is staring.
And they are.
Whispers follow her like shadows she can't shake off.
Student 1: "That's the girl Liam humiliated, right?"Student 2: "I heard her own family slapped her when she got home."Student 3: "Maybe she is crazy…"
Their voices stick to her skin like dirt she can't wash away.
Aira keeps walking. Her hand tightens on her bag strap until her knuckles whiten. Her smile stays in place—fragile but steady. But her eyes… her eyes are screaming.
College Washroom – Break Time
She locks herself in a stall, her back pressed to the cold door. Her body feels too small, her breaths too loud.
Her hands won't stop shaking.She whispers, shaky, "Take slow breaths. One. Two. Three."
Her chest rises, falls. Rises, falls. Too fast. Too shallow.
She stares at the gray walls. At the scratches on the metal door. Anything but her reflection.
She whispers again, voice cracking, "You're okay. You're okay. You're okay."
Her fingers twitch. She digs her nails into her palms—deep. The sting reminds her she's real. That she hasn't faded completely.
Cafeteria – Lunchtime
Pretending to scroll through her phone. Pretending she belongs. She sits at the very edge of a table, like if she makes herself small enough, maybe the world won't notice her.
Sana walks by with her group—loud, laughing, perfect. Her voice rings like a cruel bell, and everyone turns to look.
Across the hall, Liam sits with his friends. He leans in, whispers something. They laugh.
For a moment, his eyes flick toward her. Just once. Just long enough for her heart to stutter.And then… he looks away. Like she's invisible. Like she never mattered.
Inside, Aira whispers to herself:I used to be his friend. He used to talk to me first. Now I'm nothing. Just… nothing.
Her chest tightens, the invisible weight pressing down again. But she doesn't break. Not here. Not in front of them.
She picks up her juice. Takes a sip. Forces a small smile.
Because if she cries here—They'll win.
And she promised herself one thing:I'll break quietly. So no one gets to see me fall.