The metallic door opened with a loud screech. Now, standing just a step away from him, the meeting no longer seemed like such a good idea. Seeing him with that disheveled golden hair, blue eyes against a red backdrop, and those always-stylish but now frightening black clothes was unsettling.
When had this boy grown up so much?
They shook their head to avoid thinking about it. This man's childhood brought back memories, and then the smell of blood would fill the air, and the walls, floor, and hands turning a sticky red.
But beyond that, this man was never important.
The prison guard, apparently bored from waiting, shoved them forward. The chains around their hands slightly rattled with the movement, causing him to look up. With a trembling voice that didn't sound familiar, said, "Hello, Stefan."
Stefan didn't respond. His gaze spoke enough.
Stefan watched as they moved forward and sat on the wobbly chair in front of him.
Then, a silence fell, which Stefan didn't seem interested in breaking.
The unfamiliar voice started speaking again: "It's been a long time."
A bitter smirk appeared on Stefan's lips: "Yeah, I bet time moves slowly in prison, especially for you!"
The smile faded from Stefan's face: "Do you want to know how it's been for me these days?"
"... I'm sorry."
"Oh! Now you're sorry! Does your apology change anything for me? For him?"
Silence returned once more.
This time, the silence dragged on so long that the guard glanced at his watch, thinking the entire meeting might pass this way.
Finally, Stefan said: "You wanted to see me for a reason. If you're not going to say anything, I don't want to waste my time here."
"I... I heard you want to be his lawyer."
Stefan crossed his arms: "You heard right."
"... I just wanted you to know he meant a lot to me."
Stefan rolled his eyes: "Of course he did. Without him, you were nothing!"
***
The noise from the other kids irritated him, maybe because he had no part in it. Moving from city to city, again and again, isn't something an 11-year-old boy easily gets used to.
His parents had reassured him that this time, their stay in the new—or perhaps old—city, since Stefan couldn't remember if they had lived here before, would be permanent. But he couldn't trust them. How many times had he heard this before?
A low voice made him look up: "Hey! Can I sit here?"
He looked at the boy. The boy had straight, raven-black hair and gray eyes that were waiting for an answer.
Stefan shrugged. A wide smile appeared on the boy's face. He sat next to Stefan on the bench and placed his food on his lap: "You're the new kid, right? I'm Vasil. What's your name?"
Stefan decided to respond with as few words as possible: "Stefan."
He was familiar with people like this. They only found you interesting as long as their curiosity was piqued.
Contrary to his expectations, Vasil didn't ask anything else. Maybe he had sensed the coldness in Stefan's tone.
This silence gave Stefan the opportunity to inspect his sandwich. He had attended many schools, but by far, this was the worst sandwich he had ever received. Hoping it tasted better than it looked, he took a bite.
That was enough to make him wish his parents would transfer him again.
A muffled chuckle caught his attention. He looked at Vasil, frowning in surprise. Realizing Stefan was looking at him, Vasil tried to suppress his smile: "Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just thinking, my name means 'king,' while yours means 'crown.' "
Stefan stared at him without blinking for a moment, then smirked, although unlike Vasil, he didn't find anything funny in the situation.
Vasil, confused by Stefan's reaction, smiled: "Well, at least you don't think I'm a lunatic who laughs for no reason!"
Stefan said: "But I do think you're weird!"
This remark might have seemed a bit harsh for someone he had just met, but young Stefan wasn't used to hiding his thoughts.
Vasil responded calmly: "Well, you're not the first, and honestly, I don't think you'll be the last!"
After saying that, he took a bite of his sandwich. The rest of the lunch period passed in silence. When the bell rang, Vasil picked up his tray and stood up. Before leaving, he turned to Stefan and said: "I had a good time hanging out with you. Maybe we can talk again... How about tomorrow at lunch?"
Stefan: "Maybe."
Vasil waved at him as he walked toward a table and placed his tray on a stack of dirty ones.
Stefan watched him until Vasil disappeared into the school building, then stood up and headed toward the stack of dirty trays with his half-eaten sandwich.
***
Stefan glanced away from the dull writings on the board and looked at Vasil from the corner of his eye. Like him, Vasil's seat was in the last row, but each sat on opposite ends of the classroom.
He didn't know what it was about this pale boy with colorless eyes that had caught his attention. Usually, people weren't that interesting to him.
In the space between them, a boy threw a crumpled piece of paper at Vasil, and a girl laughed at the boy's lame joke, but Vasil didn't even bother to turn around, as if the paper and the kids had no place in his world—or maybe he had just grown used to it.
This reaction annoyed Stefan. If he had been in Vasil's place, he would've ended up in the principal's office by now, something that wasn't new for him.
The boy, apparently not getting the reaction he wanted, turned his attention to a new victim in the seat ahead of him.
Stefan also turned his attention back to the board. A little while later, he glanced again in the same direction.
This time, Vasil was looking at him too.
Stefan felt a strange knot in his stomach. It took him a few seconds to realize that those gray eyes weren't looking at him—they were staring at the window behind him. He noticed the raindrops on the glass for the first time.
The sound of the soft rain had been drowned out by the chatter in the class, which is why Stefan, despite sitting by the window, hadn't noticed it. He found it strange that a boy who seemed oblivious to objects being thrown at him and laughter behind his back had heard the sound of the rain.
Stefan didn't know what world Vasil lived in, but wherever it was, it seemed more beautiful than his own.