Javier's room was in absolute chaos. The dim afternoon light barely managed to slip through the curtains, tinting the walls with a faded gray. Remnants of broken objects—a fallen vase, crumpled papers, books scattered across the floor—piled up like mute witnesses to the storm raging inside the young man's mind. In a corner, his bed lay unmade, as though even the concept of rest had been dragged away by the anguish that held him prisoner.
Days had passed. Days in which time slid by irregularly, as if the clock itself could feel the heaviness of his pain. Javier hadn't left his room, not even to eat, ignoring the persistent knocks of his mother on the other side of the door. She didn't understand—she never would. His sobs weren't enough to release the fury boiling inside him. Javier's body was exhausted, but his soul still burned.
In his hands, wrinkled and soaked, rested a letter. The letter Anabel had left him. The words, though blurred by tears, were still legible. Like a sharp blade, each sentence carved something out of him.
"Don't hate me for leaving you alone. You changed so much for me, and despite everything we did to you… forgive me. I hope you can be happy, and if one day you manage to forgive me, look at the sky. I'll be waiting for you in that beautiful star you gave me. I love you, don't forget that. But this world is no longer for me…"
Javier pressed the letter against his chest, the paper sticky from his tears. His breathing was ragged, as if Anabel's words could still reach him and tear him apart. The pain he felt was no longer just for her, but for everything he had lost. His world had shrunk to the words of a girl who believed in something he never understood.
Javier's eyes, red and bloodshot, stared into the void. His body had become a tangle of discordant emotions: hatred, fury, sorrow. And everything seemed tied to a promise. A promise he didn't fully understand, yet knew deep down he had to keep.
With a broken voice, he muttered through clenched teeth, his tone soaked in desperation and vengeance:
"They'll pay… They'll pay, I swear."
The words left his lips with feverish intensity. His gaze, cast into the empty space of his room, seemed to search for something beyond the walls—something to justify him. Something to soothe the hatred consuming him. Because that rage, that crushing emptiness, wouldn't leave him in peace until everyone paid. All of them.
Months earlier…
The scene rewound in time, dragging with it the calm before the storm.
Javier was in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes fixed on his desk. Morning light filtered through the window and illuminated his face, reflecting the calm he sought in the midst of his daily routine. He was nineteen, and for as long as he could remember, the only purpose that had ever given his life meaning was becoming an electrical engineer.
His mother worked long hours at a supermarket, and though her effort wasn't enough to afford any luxury, Javier always knew his future depended on what he built for himself. There was no time for distractions. No time for anything except his dream. While others his age spent their time at parties or hanging out, Javier drowned himself in books, formulas, and equations. The only distractions he had were the echoes of the voices around him.
One day, at school, the teacher introduced Anabel. The new exchange student, a girl from Equatorial Guinea, seemed to struggle to find her place in a world too big for her. She was attractive, but her eyes—marked by something deeper—reflected an uncertainty Javier didn't understand.
She tried to talk to him, and though he looked at her briefly, he said nothing.
"You're Javier, right?" Anabel asked timidly.
"Yes," he replied, curtly, without lifting his focus from his notes.
Anabel fell silent, confused, and eventually stopped trying. Javier dove back into his thoughts, ignoring everything around him. But something changed when the teacher, during an assembly, recognized Javier publicly as the student with the highest potential in the class.
"And as part of this new stage, we will assign Anabel to assist him and help her adapt better to the course," the teacher announced, glancing toward the new student.
That was when Freddy, seated in his usual spot, paid attention. Frederick's cold, calculating eyes landed on Anabel. Something about her caught his attention. It wasn't just Javier's recognition anymore—it was the challenge she represented. A challenge that would soon become the center of everything.
The teacher adjusted his glasses and set aside the attendance sheet after introducing Anabel. His monotonous voice filled the classroom.
"Well, now that everyone is here, let's begin today's lesson."
He turned to the board, grabbed a worn piece of chalk, and began to write. The chalk snapped almost immediately. He glanced at the tray beneath the board but found none left.
"It seems we're out of chalk. I'll go get more. Don't leave your seats," he said with a tired tone before walking out, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence.
The silence didn't last.
From the back of the room, Andrés—Freddy's inseparable friend—gave a malicious smirk. He looked around to ensure the teacher wasn't nearby and fixed his gaze on Anabel. With her dark skin and curly hair, she stood out among the others.
"Hey, Anabel," he said in an overly innocent voice, loud enough for everyone to hear, "is it true that in your country you hunt lions with your bare hands?"
Laughter erupted—first muffled, then openly. Some students exchanged amused looks, enjoying her discomfort. Andrés wasn't done.
"And how do you even do your hair? You use a machete or what?"
Louder laughter filled the room. Even Freddy, sitting at the front, let out a quiet chuckle, though he didn't turn around. His demeanor, as always, was cold and calculated. Anabel lowered her gaze, pressing her lips together. Her face flushed—not with embarrassment, but with humiliation. Her hands trembled slightly on the desk.
Before the bullying could escalate further, the door swung open. The teacher returned with a new pack of chalk. Silence immediately weighed on the room. Oblivious, he carried on with the lesson as if nothing had happened.
Later, at dismissal…
The bell rang, and students gathered their things. The noisy hallways marked the end of the school day. Anabel rushed out with her eyes fixed on the floor, avoiding eye contact. The echoes of laughter still rang in her head.
Meanwhile, Freddy was about to head to the parking lot when a cold, authoritative voice stopped him.
"Frederick, come to the office. And bring Juana with you."
The order came from the vice principal, who turned away without waiting. Freddy frowned briefly, then returned to his usual calm. Juana, one of Andrés's closest friends, waited silently by the office door.
Whatever happened inside the office lasted more than twenty minutes. When they emerged, their expressions differed. Freddy's face remained unreadable, while Juana looked nervous, hands clasped against her chest. Neither spoke a word.
That afternoon marked a subtle yet important shift in the group's dynamic—and especially in the emerging connection between Freddy, Andrés, and the newly arrived Anabel.
Later, at Anabel's apartment…
The apartment building wasn't impressive: cracked walls, half-hanging curtains, and humid-smelling hallways. She climbed the stairs slowly, her backpack heavy—not from books, but from the weight of the day.
When she opened the door, the sound of the TV greeted her—along with Arturo, her stepfather, slumped on the couch with a beer. Her stepsister María, sixteen, lay on the floor painting her nails.
"You're late, Ana," Arturo said without looking away from the screen.
"Sorry…" she murmured, dropping her backpack by the door.
She went to the kitchen, retrieved the ingredients she'd bought the night before, and began cooking dinner. María never helped—Anabel handled all house chores after school. That routine never changed.
Dinner time.
The three sat at the worn wooden table. Arturo began questioning them while chewing.
"So, how was school?" he asked, eyes fixed on Anabel.
"Great, Dad," María chirped. "The teacher told us about a graduation trip! It's going to be amazing!"
Arturo nodded, then stared at Anabel.
She lowered her gaze.
"Just… a normal day."
"Speak louder," Arturo snapped.
"It was a normal day," she repeated.
Tension thickened the air. María kept talking happily, unfazed, filling the silence.
The shared bedroom.
Anabel and María retreated to their small room. Two single beds, a messy desk between them.
"What's wrong with you?" María asked, eyes glued to her phone. "You're quieter than usual."
"Nothing."
María put her phone aside, smirking.
"If you keep acting like this, you'll never fit in. You need to learn the rules."
"What rules?"
She listed them—popularity, pretending, never showing weakness, dressing well, flirting but never giving in.
"And the most important: never fall in love with someone who can't give you what you deserve."
Anabel sighed.
Then María launched into her passionate description of Freddy—and Andrés. Every detail. His eyes. His walk. His body. His confidence. His effect on people.
Anabel tried to interrupt.
María didn't let her.
Their discussion escalated—popularity vs. self-worth, superficiality vs. identity. María's words were sharp. Cruel. Honest. And she knew how to hurt.
"You'll end up alone. No one notices you."
Silence followed.
Anabel stared out the window at the flickering city lights, clutching the tiny bit of dignity she had left.
Meanwhile, at Javier's house…
His home was small but warm. Simple, clean. Books piled everywhere.
After school, Javier cooked dinner. His mother arrived exhausted but smiling.
They ate together, sharing the quiet comfort of each other's presence. She encouraged him, reminded him she believed in his future.
And Javier promised he would make it all worthwhile.
Flashforward.
Wind lashed the courtyard. Leaves swirled like warnings of a coming storm. Javier stood before Freddy.
"What do you want from me?" Javier asked, voice trembling with anger—and disappointment.
"From you? Nothing." Freddy smirked. "But from her… everything."
The words struck hard.
Javier's fists clenched.
Freddy walked away.
And from a second-floor window, eyes watched everything.
Anabel's eyes.
Confused. Worried.
And touched by something darker—something beginning to awaken.
End of Chapter 1