She always felt loved, but not always understood. Her parents cared for her, but their love was heavy with expectations. There were constant comparisons to her younger sister, the “perfect one.” It wasn’t jealousy—it was frustration. How could she measure up when she was never given a chance? Every argument seemed to end the same way: her parents pointing out how her sister excelled at everything, while she felt invisible.

Her dream of playing volleyball had long been tucked away, buried under years of “maybe next time” and “focus on your studies.” It hurt, but she had learned to stay quiet, to avoid the fights that left her feeling like an outsider in her own home. More than anything, she wanted to leave—not because she didn’t love her family, but because she longed for a place where she could truly be herself.

At school, things were simpler. Her world revolved around Sara and Somi, her only two friends. They were her escape, her safe place in the chaos. The three of them were inseparable, always laughing about their small “triangle” and finding joy in the little things. But even with them, she often felt a quiet restlessness, a nagging feeling that something was missing.

And then there was him.

He was a senior, the youngest son of his family, adored by everyone. Pampered yet grounded, he had a way of noticing things most people didn’t. The way someone’s eyes lingered a little too long on the floor, the way their voice faltered when they spoke—he saw it all. And one day, he saw her.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. She had dropped her books in the hallway, crouched down to pick them up as others rushed past. He had stopped to help, and for the briefest moment, their eyes met. She had smiled—a small, nervous smile—but it was the kind of smile that lingered. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real.

There was something about her that stayed with him after that day. Maybe it was the quiet way she carried herself, as though she was holding the weight of something she couldn’t share. Or maybe it was the way she smiled—soft and hesitant, with a dimple that appeared only when she forgot to hide it. She wasn’t like the others. She didn’t try to stand out, but somehow, she was impossible to ignore.

For her, it was just another moment in her day. She didn’t think twice about him, too preoccupied with her own thoughts, her own struggles. But for him, that moment was the beginning of something he couldn’t explain.

He started noticing her in the hallways, at the edge of the volleyball court during PE, watching from the sidelines. She seemed lost in her own world, her face a mixture of quiet determination and sadness. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. What was it about her that pulled him in?

She had no idea. She was too busy trying to escape—escape the comparisons, the arguments, the feeling of being trapped. All she wanted was a chance to be free, to find herself in a world that felt too small.

But fate had other plans. Sometimes, the people who see us when we can’t see ourselves are the ones who change everything.

This is their story—a tale of quiet observations, unspoken emotions, and the moments that bring two souls together when they least expect it......

Ayla Lune

The bell rang as I stepped through the towering gates of my new school. My heart pounded in rhythm with my cautious footsteps, unsure of what to expect. It was the first day in a place that wasn’t home, with people who weren’t familiar, and everything felt unnervingly loud.

The morning assembly was a blur of speeches and introductions. Teachers spoke of goals, discipline, and opportunities, while students murmured among themselves. I sat in the back row, silent and observant, wishing I could just blend into the walls.

As soon as we were dismissed, the day became a whirlwind of faces. Students approached me with smiles and questions, all eager to meet the “new girl.” Most were kind, but there was something about their eyes—a sharpness that hinted at competition beneath their friendliness.

I nodded and smiled when required, careful to give just enough to not seem rude. But it was exhausting, trying to be polite while feeling completely out of place.

Then, as the introductions continued, two girls approached me. Unlike the others, they didn’t overwhelm me with endless chatter or push themselves into my space. They smiled warmly, a quiet kind of confidence radiating from them.

“Hi, Ayla, right?” one of them asked.

“Yes,” I replied hesitantly, glancing at their name badges. Sara and Somi.

“We’re in the same class,” Somi said, her voice light and friendly. “If you need anything, just let us know.”

Sara nodded. “This school can be a bit... intense. But don’t worry, you’ll find your place.”

I didn’t know why, but their words felt genuine, like they weren’t just saying them to be polite. Something in their eyes told me they meant it.

“Thank you,” I said softly, feeling a small weight lift from my chest.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes, introductions to teachers, and navigating unfamiliar hallways. At lunchtime, the school came alive with activity.

Clubs had set up booths around the courtyard, colorful banners and enthusiastic members calling out to passing students. They advertised sports teams, drama clubs, debate societies, and everything in between.

“Join the volleyball team!” a girl shouted nearby, but I just walked past, unbothered by the energy around me. I couldn’t bring myself to care. It wasn’t like I’d be allowed to join anyway.

Instead, I found a quiet corner near the library and sat alone, my lunch untouched. I didn’t feel lonely, not exactly—it was more like I was waiting. Waiting for this new place to feel like something more than just another stop.

The day ended with Sara and Somi finding me again. “We’re heading to the café across the street,” Somi said. “Want to come?”

I hesitated, unsure if I was ready to be part of something. But their smiles made it hard to say no.

“Okay,” I said.

As we walked together, I couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—this place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

For the first time that day, I felt like I could breathe...

....................................................................

I walked through the front door, the weight of the day settling in my chest. It was one of those days where everything felt too loud, too bright, and yet, nothing felt real. The small, comforting moments with Sara and Somi seemed so far away now, lost in the sea of expectations and questions that awaited me at home.

My parents were in the living room as usual. My dad was in his favorite armchair, flipping through a newspaper, and my mom was on the phone, talking about something I couldn’t care less about. It was as though they had already forgotten that I was the one who’d just spent an entire day in a new place, trying to find my footing.

The usual barrage of questions began the moment I stepped into the room.

“So, how was your first day, Ayla?” My mom didn’t even look up from her phone.

“It was fine,” I muttered, trying to hide the exhaustion in my voice.

“Did you meet anyone new?” Dad asked, his eyes scanning me from over his newspaper.

I nodded. “Yeah, a couple of people. Sara and Somi. They were really nice.”

“Good,” my mom said, finally putting down the phone. “You should try joining some clubs. Maybe you could join the volleyball team? Or something to get you involved.”

The words hit me like a slap to the face. The volleyball team. How could they bring it up again? The same team I was never allowed to try out for. The same dream that was always pushed aside because it wasn’t “practical.”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, turning away.

They continued, oblivious to how I was feeling, asking me what I had learned, how many friends I’d made, what I was going to do with my future. I wanted to scream, Why can’t you just ask me how my day was? How I felt, what I thought. But no, it was always about what they thought I should be.

It wasn’t that they didn’t love me—it was that they didn’t understand me. They saw their perfect younger daughter and compared me to her. She was the one who could do everything right, while I was left feeling like I didn’t fit anywhere.

I knew they meant well. I knew they just wanted me to succeed. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was just another person to measure up to their expectations, not someone they truly saw.

Without saying another word, I walked up to my room and shut the door behind me.

Once I was alone, I collapsed onto my bed, pulling the covers over my head. I needed to escape, to run away from all of it—the comparisons, the pressure, the feeling of being invisible.

Sara and Somi were the only ones who had made me feel like I wasn’t alone, like I could be myself, even if just for a moment. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to be somewhere where I didn’t have to pretend, where I wasn’t held up against someone else.

I wanted to leave. And I didn’t know how or where, but that feeling in my chest—of wanting to be free—was growing stronger with each passing day.

There had to be more to life than this. There had to be a place where I could breathe, where I wasn’t the daughter caught in someone else’s shadow.

With those heavy thoughts weighing on her, Ayla crawled into bed, pulling the covers tightly around herself as if they could shield her from the suffocating thoughts in her mind. The day had been a blur of new faces, new experiences, but at the end of it all, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it had all been just another layer added to her burden.

She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts racing, replaying the conversations from earlier, the expectations, the comparisons, the feeling of being unheard. It was as though no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the weight of what everyone else wanted her to be.

The room was quiet, but the silence was deafening. She closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come easily.

Maybe tomorrow will be better, she thought, though deep down, she knew it wouldn’t. The cycle would just continue—another day of pretending, another day of being what everyone expected her to be.

She let out a deep sigh, her body aching with exhaustion, but her mind still awake, restless.

And with those heavy thoughts swirling in her head, she finally drifted off into a restless sleep, hoping for an escape, even if only in her dreams...

I woke up to the sound of my mom’s voice calling me from the kitchen. It was the same thing every morning—like a script they had memorized perfectly.

“Honey, study hard. Concentrate on what your teacher is saying today, okay?”

“And don’t get too much into friends. Focus on your future,” my dad added from somewhere nearby.

I groaned and pulled the blanket over my head. Please, I thought, can’t they just skip this part for once?

I rushed through my morning routine, grabbed my bag, and hurried out of the house before they could say anything else.

When I reached school, I was already late. The corridor was empty, my hurried footsteps echoing off the walls. As I turned a corner, I bumped into someone—hard.

“Oof!” I stumbled back, clutching my books to keep them from falling.

The guy I had run into didn’t move an inch. He was tall, steady, and there was something about him that made me pause—a quiet strength, maybe. His dark eyes glanced at me, not lingering for long, but just enough to make me aware of his presence.

“Sorry,” I muttered quickly, forcing a small smile.

He didn’t say anything, just nodded faintly. I had no time to think about it—I was late, after all. I hurried down the hallway and into my class.

When I finally walked into the classroom, I spotted Somi and Sara waving at me from the middle row. They were practically glowing, their energy infectious as always.

“Here! We saved you a seat,” Somi said as I slid into the chair beside them.

“Late again?” Sara teased.

“Don’t ask,” I replied, dropping my head onto the desk.

The first lecture—Finance—felt like it dragged on for eternity, though I didn’t mind entirely. I loved accounts. Numbers, ledgers, balances—it all made sense in a way that nothing else did. There was something satisfying about getting the balance right, the precision of it all.

Of course, today wasn’t the day I could focus. The teacher’s voice blurred into background noise, and I spent the entire class scribbling random numbers in my notebook.

When the bell finally rang, I barely had a moment to gather my thoughts before a group of seniors flooded the classroom.

“Join our dance society!”

“Drama club auditions tomorrow!”

“Debate society recruiting!”

The noise was overwhelming—flyers being handed out, voices overlapping, excitement buzzing through the air.

I didn’t pay much attention until one voice caught my ear.

“Finesa, the finance society, is recruiting this week!”

I looked up, my eyes landing on the senior holding a neat flyer. Finesa. My heart skipped a beat.

Finance. My first love.

Of all the chaos around me, that one word made everything else fade. I imagined myself being part of the society, surrounded by people who shared the same passion for accounts and numbers. Maybe I could finally belong somewhere, I thought.

I was holding the flyer in my hand, feeling that flicker of hope, when another voice rang out.

“And don’t forget Apex, the Sports Society! Volleyball, football, basketball—we’re looking for students ready to compete and have fun. Tryouts start Friday!”

My head turned instinctively toward the voice. The word “volleyball” tugged at me like an old friend calling my name. A senior stood at the front of the class, holding a bright flyer with “APEX SPORTS SOCIETY” written in bold letters.

Volleyball.

For a split second, I could see myself on the court again—playing, laughing, feeling alive. But just as quickly, the image disappeared.

Somi leaned closer, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Are you seriously thinking about joining one of these societies?”

“Huh?” I blinked, caught off guard.

“Don’t even bother,” Sara chimed in, rolling her eyes. “They’ll drown you in work. You’ll barely have time to breathe.”

“Yeah,” Somi agreed. “Who needs all that stress when we can just chill?”

I looked down at the two flyers in my hand—Finesa and Apex. Finance or volleyball. Two things I had once dreamed about, right there in front of me.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said quietly, tucking both flyers into my bag. But I wasn’t sure if I believed myself.

After lunch with Sara and Somi, I slipped away to my usual escape: the volleyball court.

The sound of shoes squeaking on the court and the rhythmic thud of the ball hitting the ground felt so familiar, so safe. I sat on the bleachers, watching the players move with energy and focus.

I used to be like them. I used to play, to feel the rush of the game, the thrill of competition. But my parents had always stopped me. “Focus on your studies,” they’d say. “Sports won’t get you anywhere.”

Now, I just watched. It was easier that way.

I stayed there for two hours, watching, letting my thoughts drift. When the sky turned a soft shade of orange, I finally forced myself to leave.

When I walked through the front door, I braced myself for the usual—lectures, comparisons, the weight of their expectations. But tonight was different.

“Get ready,” my mom said with a smile. “We’re going out for dinner.”

I froze, surprised. “Dinner? Why?”

“No reason,” my dad replied, his voice unusually light. “We just thought it’d be nice.”

Dinner was surprisingly pleasant. My parents were talking and smiling as if we were one of those happy families in movies.

At dinner, they talked to me—nothing about school, nothing about my sister or my future. They asked simple things, like how my day was and what I ate for lunch.

I didn’t know what to make of it. Part of me wanted to believe they were trying, that things could be better. But another part of me knew this was temporary—like a calm before the storm.

As I sat at the dinner table, quietly listening to them, I thought about the flyers still in my bag..

Finesa.

Apex.

Maybe this time, I wouldn’t let the chance slip away. Maybe this time, I’d do something for myself.

“So… uh, at school today, some societies came to promote their clubs,” I said, trying to sound casual.

My mom looked up from her plate. “Oh? What kind of societies?”

“There’s one called Finesa—a finance society—and another called Apex, the sports society. I was thinking of joining one of them… or maybe both.”

I braced myself for their usual disapproval. I expected a lecture about studies, time management, and how joining societies was “a distraction” or “not worth it.”

But to my surprise, my dad nodded. “Why not both? If you can manage your time well, it’ll be good for you.”

“What?” I blurted out, not hiding my shock.

“You’ve always been good at accounts,” my mom added with a smile. “And sports… well, if you like volleyball, you should give it a try. It’s better than wasting time doing nothing.”

I sat there, stunned. I didn’t know what to say. My parents, the same ones who always compared me to my sister and crushed my dreams before I could even voice them, were encouraging me? It was unexpected—too unexpected.

But a spark lit up inside me. For the first time in a long time, I felt… hope. Maybe I can do it. Maybe I can prove to them that I’m not “less” than her.

We finished dinner, and I let the feeling settle as we drove back home. I replayed their words over and over again in my head. It was like holding onto a small flame I didn’t want to blow out.

Back in my room, I stared at the ceiling, the faint sound of my sister laughing drifting through the walls. A strange determination filled me. I had the chance now—a chance to prove myself, to not let my sister’s shadow cover me completely.

With that thought, I drifted into a lighter sleep than usual.

Sometime in the middle of the night, the vibration of my phone woke me up. Groggily, I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed it. The screen lit up.

New Message.

It was from an unknown number. I squinted at the screen, feeling the sleep slip away.

Hey.

I blinked at the message, my heart skipping for no reason. Who could be texting me this late?

I stared at the word for a moment longer before placing my phone back on the table.

Tomorrow. I’ll think about it tomorrow.

I closed my eyes again, the faint glow of the phone fading into darkness, and let myself drift off once more.

_____