By the time we finished breakfast, the sky had started to shift into that soft morning gold. The roads were still sleepy, but the energy on campus? Absolutely chaotic.
Students were already gathering at the starting line, most wearing matching dry-fit shirts with their department logos. Loud music blasted from a nearby speaker as one of the SSC hosts tried (and failed) to hype the crowd.
"I swear if this shirt soaks up sweat and clings to my back, I'm dropping out," Jhay muttered as we crossed the road and entered the main gate.
Mia elbowed him. "Like you weren't already planning to drop out."
I walked slightly ahead of them, stretching my arms while checking the time on my watch. Five minutes to go before the fun run officially started.
We spotted Yashina and Susmita near the game booths setting up ribbons and prizes. They waved from a distance.
"Go, runners!" Susmita called out teasingly.
"Go, officers-slash-slaves!" Jhay yelled back.
As we joined the gathering crowd near the starting line, I was adjusting the rubber band on my wrist when I froze mid-motion.
There, standing a few feet away—tying his shoelace like he was in a sportswear ad—was Syron.
Hair slightly messy. Wearing the same running shirt. Headphones slung around his neck. Looking like the morning sun was created just to highlight his jawline.
He didn't notice me. But I noticed him. And worse... Claire was standing right beside him.
She looked different today. Not all dolled up. Just a ponytail, joggers, and a plain shirt—but she still had that naturally glowy, soft-girl vibe that made me want to kick a trash can.
They weren't talking. Just standing near each other. But still.
I quickly turned to Mia. "Don't look now, but your favorite boy is here."
She blinked. "Kevin?"
I gave her a look. "Do I look like I'd bring up that name right now?"
"Syron?"
"Bingo."
She subtly peeked over my shoulder. "Ooh. And he's got a shadow."
"I saw."
"Do we hate her?"
"Working on it."
Jhay suddenly popped up behind us. "Wait, Syron's here?" He immediately craned his neck. "Where?—Oh, damn, why does that guy always look like a human version of a book cover?"
"I know, right?" Mia added. "I feel personally offended."
I forced myself to focus on the run. I wasn't about to waste emotional energy this early in the morning.
Then the whistle blew. We started jogging, and I tried to forget he was even there. But of course, fate had other plans.
Ten minutes in, I slowed to a light jog, breathing steadily. That's when I saw him running just a few feet ahead of me. He must've broken off from the group he was with—Claire was nowhere in sight.
He glanced back—and that's when our eyes met. Brief. Fleeting. Charged.
He gave a nod, not quite a smile. Not quite neutral either. I nodded back. No expression. My heart, though? Doing backflips.
He picked up pace again, earbuds in, and disappeared into the front pack.
I slowed down even more, telling myself it didn't matter. It was just a nod. A split-second glance. But why did it feel like it lasted an hour?
We rested a few more minutes on the curb after the fun run, each of us slumped like dying animals.
"I'm gonna die," Jhay groaned, wiping sweat off his face dramatically. "This is how I go. Tell my mom I love her."
Without warning, he flopped backward onto the pavement like a dead fish.
I blinked. "Oh my god."
A few students walking by stopped to look. One girl even gasped and said, "Is he okay?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Mia muttered, grabbing him by the collar. "Get up! You're embarrassing!"
We all laughed as she tugged him to his feet. His face was pink from the heat—or maybe the humiliation.
"You're so loud," Mia sighed, sipping water and wiping her neck with a small towel. "You act like this was a triathlon."
"Honestly, I feel like I just gave birth," Jhay muttered. I shook my head and raised a hand to hail a jeep. "Come on, my legs are jelly. We're not walking all the way back." None of us protested.
Back at school, the chaos had only just begun. Everyone split up—Susmita and Yashina disappeared to their officer duties, Jersey sprinted toward the sports office grumbling about how she regretted showering before the run, and the rest of us—me, Mia, and Jhay—headed straight to the dance room.
The event was starting in an hour, and we still had to get ready for the performance.
I changed into a crop top and cargo pants, let my hair down, and took one look at the packed dance room before stepping back out. Everyone inside was talking over each other, and the energy felt too thick—claustrophobic, even. I needed air.
The rooftop was quiet. The wind was stronger up here, tugging softly at the edges of my shirt as I stood near the edge. The view of the campus from above was beautiful—hints of orange in the sky, groups of students milling around like ants, some booths still under construction.
I slipped on my earphones and pressed play. A slow beat filled my ears. I danced lightly, just enough to loosen up.
My arms flowed with the rhythm, each movement a slow exhale, like I was wringing the noise from my bones. The music grounded me—no stage, no crowd, no spotlight. Just the wind curling through my shirt and the beat in my blood, reminding me that I was still here. Still mine.
My feet skimmed the rooftop tiles like the ground didn't matter. For the length of that song, I wasn't tired. I wasn't hurting. I was just... free.
For a moment, my thoughts melted away. No Claire. No Kevin. No ghosts. Just breath, motion, and the steady hum of the music pulsing through my chest like a heartbeat I could finally hear again.
It was the kind of dancing that made you feel human again—light, untethered, like every step was a quiet rebellion against the weight you'd been carrying.
When the song ended, I exhaled, chest rising and falling with something that almost felt like peace. I turned around, ready to head back down—only to freeze.
There he was.
Kevin.
Standing just a few meters away, like he'd been there the whole time. My stomach dropped.
He held a bottle of water—unopened. For a second, I wondered if it was meant for me or not, but that thought quickly faded as I met his eyes.
He didn't look mad. Or happy. Just... unreadable. The kind of stillness that makes your skin crawl.
"Kevin," I said cautiously, not moving from my spot. I kept my voice calm even as my heartbeat picked up. "Why are you here?"
He didn't answer right away. His gaze swept the rooftop, the horizon behind me, before settling back on my face.
"Just needed some air."
I gave a slow nod, unsure how to react.
"I see."
But I didn't see. I didn't understand at all. After what happened at the condo—after the fear that gripped me seeing him ring my doorbell like that—he just... shows up? Out of nowhere. Again.
I kept my body relaxed, but inside, I was bracing for something. Anything.
He stepped forward—not much, just one small step. I tensed. It was instinct. He must've noticed. Because he stopped.
His voice was lower now. "You were dancing."
I swallowed. "Yeah."
There was a beat of silence.
"I remember when you used to dance in front of the mirror in your room," he added, almost like he was reminiscing.
My fingers curled into the fabric of my pants.
"That was a long time ago."
He nodded again. "Yeah." Another beat.
I didn't want this. Whatever this moment was becoming, I didn't want it. I didn't need old ghosts crawling out from the edges.
So I said, quietly but firmly, "You shouldn't be here."
He looked at me again. This time with something behind his eyes—a flicker of something darker.
Regret, maybe. Or anger. But he didn't argue. He just handed me the bottle of water. I didn't take it.
I glanced down at my phone, half-hoping—half-dreading—to see a message. A sigh escaped my lips the moment I saw Jhay's text.
[Jhay]: Where the hell are you? We're heading to the auditorium!
I quickly typed back, [Me]: On my way, and hit send.
My gaze lifted to Kevin, who stood rooted in the same spot, the unopened water bottle still in his hand. I gave a short nod.
"I'll go now," I said, stepping forward, intending to pass by without another word.
But then—
"Mace..."
I froze beside him. The weight of my name coming from his mouth... it was heavy in a way that stirred something unpleasant in my chest. Familiar, but unwanted.
A few seconds passed. I still didn't look at him.
"Is there really nothing left?"
My jaw clenched. "We're done, Kevin." His voice was quieter this time.
"Not even a little?" I nodded without hesitation. Because I had no regrets.
Three years. Not once did I lie to him. Not once did I cheat or disrespect him. I kept my world small, just for him. I gave everything I could, until there was nothing left of me but the shell of a girl always waiting for text backs, always managing his moods.
So I walked away—without looking back.
As soon as I stepped into the backstage area, the buzzing noise of the event flooded me—music, chatter, officers running around looking one breath away from a meltdown.
I spotted Mia and Jhay practicing a short choreo in the corner. I joined them and dropped my bag beside theirs. The place was alive with nerves and excitement.
I turned to Mia, brushing my bangs away from my forehead.
"Does my face look okay?"
She blinked at me like I'd grown another head.
"Could pass."
"Wow, thanks for the moral support."
She shrugged. "You're welcome."
I pulled out my phone and used the front camera to fix my face a little. Just in case. Not that I was expecting anything—or anyone.
And yet... my heart betrayed me the moment my gaze flicked to the far side of the room.
Syron.
Holding a camera. Brows furrowed in focus as he snapped pictures of the performers lining up near the wings. My pulse skipped.
I turned away fast enough to get whiplash. Why is he here? Why is he looking so effortlessly good doing nothing but clicking buttons?
I tried to act normal, fanning myself with one hand while pretending to look for lip balm. But my fingers fumbled. My lip balm fell to the ground and rolled right under Jhay's foot.
He picked it up and stared at me. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," I snapped, snatching it back. "Mind your own business." Before he could answer, a voice called out behind us.
"Hey, guys. Can I take a picture?"
I froze like someone had hit pause on my soul. That voice. His voice.
I didn't turn around right away, but Mia and Jhay were already giggling and nodding. Of course. Why wouldn't they?
Then—
"Excuse me, Miss?"
I blinked, turning slowly, already regretting everything I ever did in life.
Jhay widened his eyes at me like THIS IS YOUR MOMENT, mouthing something I couldn't decipher but was definitely not helpful.
I cleared my throat.
"Y-Yes?"
What. The. Hell. Was that stutter?! I sounded like a baby deer being interviewed.
Mia bit her lip, holding back laughter, and I glared at her with full silent rage.
"What's so funny?" I hissed, low enough only she could hear.
Syron, completely unaware, pointed at the camera.
"You should be in the picture too."
Oh, no.
I was ushered into place next to Mia, who kept smirking, while Jhay was fully grinning like a clown who knew the entire punchline before the joke even started.
"Ready? In 3, 2, 1—"
Click.
I blinked through the flash, trying to keep my smirk steady even though my heart was racing like it just ran another fun run.
"Nice," Syron said, looking at the preview on his screen. He turned it toward us. "You guys look good."
Mia squealed a little, and Jhay dramatically flipped his hair.
"We were born ready."
I rolled my eyes so hard I saw last week. Syron started fiddling with the camera again. I thought that was it. I really thought I was safe.
But then—
"Can you guys take a picture of us?"
Silence.
Us?
"Huh?" Mia whispered.
"Wait, who's 'us'?" Jhay blinked.
Syron looked directly at me this time. "Me... and Ms. Morin," he said. My brain blue-screened. "If it's okay with her."
OH MY GOD.
Every part of me wanted to spontaneously combust. Jhay nearly dropped his phone. Mia gasped dramatically and elbowed me so hard I nearly lost balance.
I stared at Syron, trying not to look like my soul just walked out of my body.
"Uh... sure," I muttered, cheeks burning.
Mia snatched the camera before I could even breathe, dragging me forward by the wrist. Jhay was doing a literal happy dance behind her.
I stood awkwardly beside Syron. Not too close, not too far—just close enough to die slowly inside.
He looked down and smiled. "Ready?"
I nodded stiffly. "Just don't make me look awkward."
He shook his head, eyes flicking toward mine for half a second too long.
"You're the least awkward person I've met."
I blinked. My brain short-circuited.
Did he just—?
"W-What?" I stuttered, barely managing to keep my face neutral. I was a professional, damn it. A composed, collected—
"You're the least awkward person I've met," he said, voice quiet but steady. "You just... don't try to be anyone else. Most people talk to fill space. You let space breathe. That's rare."
He wasn't teasing. He meant it. And somehow, that felt more intimate than any compliment about how I looked or danced or smiled.