From Bianca Bellini's Perspective
The college gym echoed with the metallic rhythm of footsteps, the steady beat of soles against the polished floor blending with the faint hum of fluorescent lights. From high up in the bleachers, Bianca Bellini sat motionless, elbows resting on her knees, hands clasped in front of her face. The past few months had been nothing but a string of questions she couldn't answer—questions that all, inevitably, circled back to the man now running with relentless discipline across the court.
Alessio Leone.
Her ex-boyfriend.
The man who, somehow, still haunted every corner of her mind.
Bianca's eyes followed him as he kept a steady pace, showing no hint of fatigue. His broad chest rose and fell in firm cadence, sweat trickling down his neck and staining the collar of his gray sports shirt, which clung to him, outlining muscles carved by obsessive discipline. His black shorts moved in sync with each precise stride, sneakers striking the floor like hammers—punctuating the rhythm of someone who refused to quit.
His dark hair, now tousled by effort, fell heavy across his forehead, but it didn't hide the intensity of his honey-colored eyes, which gleamed with every lap. Bianca knew that look well: the same seriousness, almost severe, that he always carried when dedicating himself to something important. To Alessio, even a run in the gym was an act of war.
Bianca sighed, unable to stop the rush of memories. She remembered perfectly the first time she had met him. It hadn't been at a party or some casual encounter, but during one of those endless exam weeks when nearly every law student was on the verge of collapse. While most dragged themselves around with hollow eyes and heavy dark circles, Alessio was a riddle: calm, confident, delivering answers so sharp and precise that even professors seemed to respect him.
In that moment, she had thought she'd found the perfect man. A brilliant student. Unshakable character. A guy who didn't waste time chasing after girls for cheap approval. And, on top of all that, he was handsome—just as handsome as he looked now, sweat-soaked and defined by the same discipline that had always set him apart.
But, as life had taught her, nothing is perfect. There are always cracks beneath the surface. And with him, the flaws hadn't taken long to appear.
Alessio Leone ran, and each step echoed directly inside Bianca's mind. Watching him from the cold, half-empty bleachers was like replaying a movie she knew by heart—one that still hit her with the same force every time. The discipline, the intensity, the drive… he had always been like this.
Alessio was simply obsessive.
It didn't matter what it was. If he chose a sport, he trained until he was the best on the team. If a subject was complex, he memorized not just the main chapters but also the footnotes, the marginalia no one else bothered to read. He was a perfectionist, a strategist, a man who didn't accept anything short of excellence.
And in a way, that wasn't bad. Who wouldn't want someone who took care of himself, who dedicated himself so seriously? Who wouldn't admire such almost inhuman determination? Bianca herself had been drawn to it—there was something magnetic in the way Alessio treated challenges like life-or-death battles.
The problem began when that same obsession fused with his favorite hobby: online games.
Whenever a new title came out, Alessio dove in headfirst. Playing for fun was never enough. He had to beat the game, complete every goal, explore every detail as if his honor were at stake. During those times, he shifted into what Bianca could only describe as a "zombie mode." Eyes locked on the screen, hours dissolving into the night, meals forgotten, the world around him vanishing into smoke.
On those days, she barely saw him. And when she did, he wasn't the same. The attentive boyfriend with the firm words and steady presence became a hollow shadow, almost a stranger.
At first, Bianca didn't mind. Everyone needed their own time, and what harm was there in a little distraction? Besides, he was good. No game lasted more than a week in his hands. He devoured them with the same discipline he applied to everything else—and then came back to her, as if nothing had happened.
And really, how many games could there be? That was her first mistake. Bianca had underestimated the gaming industry.
Still, by then they had already been dating for three years. How could she break up with someone she loved so deeply over something that seemed, on the surface, so trivial? The unease grew quietly inside her, but it wasn't enough to smother her feelings. So she endured. She waited. She convinced herself it was just a phase.
But things changed after Alessio graduated.
There were no more exams to conquer, no professors to impress, no classmates to outshine. His future was already settled: he had passed a major civil service exam and was waiting to be appointed. On top of that, he had more than enough savings from his parents' inheritance to live comfortably for years.
It was as if every board of real life had been cleared. And with no worthy opponents left, no obstacles to conquer, Alessio threw himself completely into the only battlefield that still challenged him: the games.
That's when Bianca started to watch their relationship fall apart.
The distance between them grew insidiously, almost invisible at first, but soon impossible to ignore. Arguments became frequent—fights that started small, over schedules, over attention, but ended in bitter silence and nights spent apart. The love that once seemed unshakable was now corroded by something Bianca couldn't defeat: the emptiness Alessio tried to fill with pixels and digital victories.
Until, inevitably, they broke up.
And even now, months later, sitting in the bleachers watching him run with that same relentless intensity, Bianca still felt the wound raw and open.
But now a question lingered in her heart.
A question that was simple yet unbearably complex: had Alessio changed?
Ever since that strange day, months ago, when she had run into him in the dorm hallway with that look of rage and desperation she had never seen before, something about him seemed different.
And it wasn't just her imagination. His new routine spoke for itself.
Early every morning, before most students dared to get out of bed, Alessio was already running—his disciplined body cutting across campus in steady strides. From there, he went straight to the gym, spending hours punishing his muscles through endless repetitions, as if searching for redemption in pain. He only left at lunchtime, face marked by effort but never beaten down.
Afternoons were a mystery of their own. Instead of locking himself away like before, Alessio now spent hours in the library. Surrounded by stacks of history and philosophy books, scribbling in notebooks no one else dared touch, he seemed like a different man. No ordinary student would bury themselves so deeply in texts unrelated to law—least of all someone who already had his degree and career secured.
Bianca didn't know what to think. Had he really changed? Or had he simply found a new obsession, something just as consuming as gaming, only with a different mask?
Honestly, she had no idea.
But for now, a small relief stirred in her chest. Seeing Alessio free from that digital prison, no longer buried in front of a glowing screen all night, was like breathing fresh air. Even if it wasn't certain, even if it wasn't permanent, the simple fact that he was moving, searching for something in the real world, gave her hope.
And when it came to Alessio Leone, hope was all she had left.