The glass doors of the building slid shut behind them with a heavy hiss, cutting off the echo of polished floors and distant voices. Outside, the air carried a bite, half-storm, and the city lights stretched across the horizon like impatient fireflies.
Maya fell into step beside Alina, but her eyes never left her friend's face. She had questions burning like fireworks she couldn't hold in her chest any longer. Ryan had walked them to the lobby, said nothing, and Alina… Alina looked like she had left her soul behind on the seventh floor.
For the first two blocks, silence ruled. Only their shoes tapping against the pavement filled the space. Maya shoved her hands into her jacket pocket, lips pressing together before she finally exhaled a sharp sigh.
"Okay, spill."
Alina blinked, startled as though she had forgotten Maya was walking beside her. "What?"
"What?" Maya mimicked, narrowing her eyes. "Don't know what' me. Just because I wasn't with you for a minute doesn't mean you were sneaking toward Kai Arden's office like you were about to commit corporate espionage. Two minutes later, Ryan's dragging you out like you're a thief. What on earth was that?"
Alina's steps faltered. Her throat felt dry. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, stalling. "It was nothing."
Maya stopped dead in her tracks, spinning to face her. "Nothing?Alina, you've been buzzing like a broken light bulb ever since we left. Don't lie to me. You're hiding something, and I'm not moving until you explain." The stubbornness in Maya's tone was familiar, infuriatingly unshakable. Alina knew there was no escaping it. She stared at the pavement, watching the cracks between the tiles blur.
"I just… I overheard something once," Alina said at last, her voice low. "I overheard Kai talking to a writer. He was so—" she bit her lip, searching for words—"so dismissive. Like writing was nothing. Like stories were… disposable."
Maya frowned, tilting her head. "And?"
"And," Alina's voice trembled with a mix of anger and something heavier, "I couldn't let it go. Maybe it shouldn't matter, but it does. He doesn't understand what it takes....what we put into words. The nights we stay awake, the way a single line eats at us until we bleed it out on paper. He doesn't know the struggle, Maya. He doesn't know what it costs."
Her eyes burned, not with tears but with a fury that had been simmering since that day. "So yes, I went there. I wanted to tell him. To make him understand that a story isn't just… a product you throw away. But before I could even...." She trailed off, shaking her head.
Maya studied her, silent for a moment, then asked softly, "And Ryan? Why was he holding your hand like that?"
Alina flushed, remembering the firm grip, the way his expression had been unreadable but his hold unyielding. "He was just… stopping me. I don't think he wanted me to cause a scene."
Maya raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Stopping you? Or saving you?"
Alina didn't answer. Because she didn't know. Or maybe Maya was right.
And you know what, as you were sneaking inside the cabinet, Ryan was on the way, and he might have caught you, that's why I was distracting him outside. I don't even remember what nonsense I blurted out in front of him.
'Thank you so much, buddy! You're my savior'' By saying that, she hugged Maya.
They resumed walking, the buzz of traffic filling the gap. Maya shoved her shoulder playfully into Alina's. "So let me get this straight. You hate Kai Arden because he bruised your writer pride, and Ryan protected you?
Alina pressed her lips together. The truth tangled in her chest. There was something more. But how could she explain? The messages at night. The anonymous voice that spoke to her as if it saw the pieces of her heart she kept buried.
Maya stopped again, catching Alina by the wrist this time, shaking her lightly. "Alina. Talk to me. What's the fire between you and Kai? Because it's there, I saw it in the way you looked at him. And the way he looked back."
Alina's laugh came out hollow. "Fire? It's not fire, Maya. It's… frustration. Anger."
"Maybe," Maya said, narrowing her eyes, "but anger's just another shade of passion."
Alina stiffened. "Don't romanticize it. He doesn't care. He's cold, arrogant—he doesn't even know me."
"Then why," Maya asked, softer now, "you do look like your chest is breaking every time you talk about him?"
Alina stopped walking, stunned by the bluntness of the question. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. She opened her mouth, closed it again, unable to form the right words. The truth was messy. She hated Kai Arden with every cell of her rational mind. But somewhere deep, where logic couldn't touch, she felt a pull. A confusing, infuriating pull that left her restless. And then there was ScriptBreaker. The one who knew her without knowing her. The one who told her things no one else dared. The one who understood.
She whispered finally, almost to herself, "Because he makes me feel something I can't name. And I hate him for it."
Maya's expression softened, but she didn't press further. Instead, she looped her arm through Alina's as they continued toward the café. "Okay. You don't have to name it yet. But you also don't get to drown in it alone. Whatever this… mess is between you and Kai Arden, I'm here. Always."
The streetlights flickered above them as they walked. For the first time that evening, Alina let out a shaky laugh, leaning into her friend. "You're annoyingly persistent, you know that?"
Maya grinned. "That's what best friends are for. Now, come on. You owe me a giant cup of coffee for dragging me into this drama."
And though Alina's thoughts still spun with Kai's unreadable eyes and ScriptBreaker's haunting words, she nodded. Because Maya was right. She didn't have to carry this fire alone.
Alina lay sprawled across her bed, still in the clothes she wore to the audition. Her bag sat untouched on the chair, her phone beside her on the pillow. It was quiet. But inside her, there was no silence. The argument with Kai kept replaying in her head, every word like a stubborn ember refusing to die out.
Cold. Arrogant. Heartless.
Her fists clenched at the memory of his expression so indifferent, so utterly unreadable. It infuriated her that she had shouted, poured her heart out, and he had barely reacted. He didn't even react at all. I shouted at him, said everything that could provoke anyone but him, and he didn't even flinch. As far as I remember, He is an actor. She went into deep thinking, but didn't show any emotions on his face.
She turned onto her side, glaring at the dark ceiling. " Hehe is ill?" she muttered.
Definitely! she said with full confidence. He might be hmm...Let me think and have some ideas so that he can show his emotions, I want to see his anger.. I want to see his irritation...
Her phone buzzed.
At first, she thought it was some random notification. But when she grabbed it and saw the name, her chest squeezed.
ScriptBreaker
Her breath caught. I t's him. After all these nights… he's here again. She didn't open the message yet, just a slight glare from the notification bar, shall I open it? .... or not? Let's just ignore it .. She finally made her decision ....or maybe not. till hesitating.
She read the message, it was short yet behaved like he knew more than I knew myself.
Scriptbreaker: "You didn't sleep yet!''
She blinked, startled. She turned her head in every direction she could think of. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard.
Alina: ''How did you know that I didn't sleep? " Her fingers hovered above the keyboard. How did he always know? She hadn't posted, hadn't updated anything yet, somehow; he sensed it.
Scriptbreaker: ''Because people who are asleep don't reply this fast''
Alina bit her lip, half smiling. Smartass
Alina :So, you're stalking my typing speed now?
Scriptbreaker:Not stalking. Just .... observing, you feel restless tonight?
Alina: Maybe because I am. Some people are just… impossible. They think they can decide the worth of stories, of people, with a single glance.
The typing dots appeared almost instantly.
Scriptbreaker : Impossible people leave the deepest marks. Someone hurt you?
Her throat tightened. She wanted to scream Kai Arden! Into the phone, but something held her back. Instead, she wrote..
Alina: ''Someone who doesn't know how to value words. Someone who acts like stories are… nothing. Just paper. Just waste''
A pause. Longer this time. Then his reply came, sharper, almost cutting
Scriptbreaker:"Or maybe he acts cold because he's afraid of what stories can do to him."
She frowned, staring at the text.
Alina: Afraid? Of stories? That's ridiculous.
Scriptbreaker: "Is it? Stories cut deeper than knives. They live longer than people. Maybe he knows that''
Why did those words sound so true....She exhaled slowly, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. The clock struck 3:00 AM.
And just like that, he was gone.
Alina lay awake long after, clutching her phone to her chest, wondering how a stranger could know her heart better than she knew it herself