I woke up before my alarm.
4:00 a.m.
The house was still, wrapped in that deep, early-morning quiet where even the walls seemed asleep.
For a moment, I forgot where I was—then I turned my head slightly and saw Ethan, still resting, breathing slow and even.
Careful not to wake him, I stood up.
The bathroom light felt too bright after the darkness. I took a quick shower, letting the warm water shake the last of sleep from my body.
By the time I stepped out, my head was clearer, my thoughts quieter.
I changed into fresh clothes, simple and familiar.
Then I tied my hair into two neat ponytails, sliding my glasses onto my nose like a final step back into myself.
Before leaving, I packed my bag and returned to his room.
He hadn't moved.
I pulled out a small piece of paper and wrote carefully, leaving it on the bedside table where he couldn't miss it.
Make sure you eat your breakfast and take your medicine.I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere.
I hesitated, then added a small underline beneath the last sentence—like a promise.
I slipped out quietly, locking the door behind me.
By the time I reached school, the sky was just beginning to lighten, pale and soft at the edges.
Everything felt… normal again. Almost too normal.
I walked into my classroom, took my seat like always.
The bell rang.
The lesson started.
And no one there knew that my morning had begun in a quiet sickroom, with a promise left behind on a piece of paper.
-
Mr. Rick didn't enter the classroom.
He arrived.
The door swung open like it had been personally offended, and R. Rick stepped in, scarf flowing, sunglasses still on, energy at a solid theatrical ten.
"Ah—there you are," he said, scanning the room with sharp approval. "Ayana. Ethan. Liam. Mark. Regina. Emma."
He pointed at each of us like he was casting a drama series.
"You six," he continued, voice dropping dramatically, "are my chosen chaos. The competition is in two to three days." He held up two fingers. Then three. "Which means panic time."
Liam nodded calmly. Emma smiled politely. Mark gave a confident nod. Regina crossed her arms but lifted her chin. I nodded too.
"Yes, we're ready," I said.
Mr. Rick clapped once. "Good. Today we start with fitting clothes and makeup. Then we practice presence. Because clothes don't win competitions—people do."
We all nodded again.
I raised my hand slightly. "But… Ethan isn't here."
From the back of the room—before Mr. Rick could gasp dramatically,
"Who said I'm not here?"
I turned so fast I nearly pulled something.
Ethan stood there, hands in his pockets, black expression fully intact.
A little pale, sure—but upright, breathing, and very much real.
"I'm still here," he said calmly. "I'm not going anywhere."
My heart did a stupid little flip.
That was my sentence.
From the note.
He walked forward and stopped beside me. Close. Too close for someone who was supposedly sick.
His expression didn't change—but his lips twitched, just barely.
Mr. Rick gasped and clapped rapidly. "YES. Surprise entrances. I live for this."
Across the room, Jake leaned back in his chair and whispered loudly, "Bro came back from the dead just to model."
Mark shot Ethan a look—subtle, sharp. "You look awful."
"Thanks," Ethan replied flatly.
Liam blinked. "You were sick."
"I was," Ethan said. "Still am."
Regina scoffed. "Then why are you here?"
He glanced at me once. "Had reasons."
Jake snorted. "Yeah. Romantic ones."
I kicked Jake's chair without looking.
Mr. Rick waved his hands. "Enough, enough. After break, all six of you meet me in the school dressing room."
He grinned. "Yes, we have one. No, you may not question it."
We nodded, some of us smiling.
As everyone started moving, I leaned toward Ethan. "Are you okay?"
He looked down at me. "Better."
I squinted. "You literally look like you escaped a hospital."
He shrugged. "Worth it."
And somehow, against all logic, I believed him.
-
We were sitting in a loose half-circle, desks shoved together like someone had thrown a miniature hurricane in the classroom.
Only five of us this time.
Jake was slouched back in his chair, feet hooked around the metal legs like he might topple over at any second.
Mark sat beside him, straight-backed, calm, trying desperately to look like he didn't notice Jake.
Ethan was leaning back with arms crossed, expression permanently stuck at "don't talk to me." And then there was me—barely holding it together.
My head felt heavy, eyelids full of sand, and I was convinced my brain had declared an unofficial nap strike.
Mark leaned over, squinting like he was about to perform a medical exam. "You okay?"
I forced a smile. "Yeah… totally. Just… thinking about… clouds."
Jake snorted. "Yeah, thinking about how to pass out without getting caught. You look like you lost a fight with a pillow."
"Exhausted," Liam offered, grinning. "But Jake's version is more… dramatic poetry."
I shot Liam a tired glare. "I'm awake, thank you very much."
Ethan, as usual, had said nothing.
Then, without opening his eyes, he said:
"She didn't get to sleep enough."
I froze mid-blink.
Mark blinked. Jake's head tilted like someone just hit 'plot twist' in real life. Liam's grin wavered.
Ethan finally looked at me, his voice low, calm, and unreasonably adorable in its deadpan delivery.
"She stayed up for me."
Cue collective groan from the others.
Jake muttered something about "ghosts, vampires, or caffeine," and Liam snorted.
Before I could even respond… Regina appeared.
She swooped in like she owned the place and dropped into the empty seat beside Ethan.
My jaw clenched. Hard.
"Oh," she said sweetly, "I haven't seen you since that day at the movies."
Ethan didn't even blink. "I was sick."
Flat. Deadpan. Owned.
Regina's smile twitched. Then she turned her sharp gaze on me.
"Honestly," she said, with maximum venom and minimum effort, "I'm sick of her too."
Cue dramatic silence.
I swear my brain considered slapping someone, but instead I clenched my fist under the desk like a normal human.
Jake leaned back with a grin, whispering "Regina is playing with fire now."
Mark rolled his eyes. "Careful. I hope I won't witness a crime happening,"
Liam snorted. "Can I get front-row tickets?"
Then, Emma strolled in, all sunshine and perfectly timed comic relief.
She plopped into the seat across from Liam. "Whoa! New jacket? Looks… different. Fancy."
Liam choked on air. "Uh—yeah? Thanks?"
She grinned, leaning closer. "It really suits you."
Jake snorted so loudly it almost toppled him out of his chair. Mark just blinked, trying not to melt.
Even Ethan… glanced up, briefly, like, "what is happening with my life?"
Liam, completely oblivious, shrugged. "Thanks, I guess?"
Emma giggled, eyes sparkling, clearly pleased with herself.
And I, sitting there, wanted to die and laugh at the same time.
Ethan shifted just a fraction closer to me—still stoic, still silent, still impossibly him—but enough that Regina's hand felt suddenly less impressive.
Jake whispered again, grinning "Maybe Ethan's being less quiet."
I glared at him. But honestly… maybe he was right.