Key Story (3) - Chapter 5
The morning sun cast a hazy, golden light through the tall windows as Fayne walked through the bustling hallway, the chatter of students filling the air around her. Her friends moved alongside her—Leah on her left, Mira and Mark on her right, and a few others trailing behind. They were talking about a popular, new series which recently came out, but Fayne found herself only half-listening, her thoughts pulled elsewhere.
As she moved through the crowded corridor, Fayne couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. It wasn't just Raxian's absence, or the fact that she hadn't heard from Sable in days—it was a sense of unease that had been growing quietly, like a low hum beneath the surface. She forced herself to smile at Mira's joke, laughing along with the others, but the laughter felt hollow.
They reached the classroom, and the familiar scrape of chairs and murmur of voices greeted her as they filed inside. Fayne headed to her seat near the window, her gaze drifting instinctively to Raxian's usual spot across the room. His chair was empty, angled slightly as if he'd left in a hurry. She sighed softly, settling into her own seat and dropping her bag onto the floor beside her.
He'd been late a lot lately, and when he did show up, it was like he was somewhere else entirely. He'd go through the motions, sitting at his desk, answering questions when called on, but there was a distance to him that hadn't been there before, a quiet withdrawal that Fayne couldn't ignore. She knew him well enough to notice these things, the subtle signs that he was holding something back, masking his true thoughts with casual smiles and easy laughs. It was like he was just… drifting, not fully present.
Her gaze lingered on his empty seat, a pang of worry settling in her chest. She hadn't walked to school with him in weeks. They used to talk every morning, sharing stories and laughing, but now… it felt like he'd retreated somewhere she couldn't reach. She hadn't heard much from Sable, either. They'd exchanged a few texts here and there, but nothing substantial. There was a silence around Sable that felt unnatural, an absence that spoke louder than words. Fayne knew that if something was wrong, Sable would turn to Raxian first—she always did. And Raxian, loyal to the core, would be there for her, no questions asked.
But that left Fayne on the sidelines, watching from a distance, trying to piece together fragments of a story she wasn't part of. She hated this—feeling like she was on the outside looking in, knowing that something was happening but not being able to help, not being able to do anything. It made her feel helpless, like she was just… waiting, while Raxian and Sable dealt with something she couldn't understand.
A small sigh escaped her as she glanced down at her notebook, fingers idly tracing the edge of the page. Her friends were still chatting around her, but their voices felt distant, like background noise she could barely register. She wanted to be there for them—for both Raxian and Sable. They were her friends, her family in a way, and the thought of them struggling without her hurt more than she wanted to admit. But she knew they'd probably just brush her off, tell her everything was fine, that they didn't need help.
Leaning back in her seat, Fayne stared out the window, watching as a few leaves drifted down from the trees outside, carried by the gentle morning breeze. She felt that familiar pang of frustration, of feeling left out, left behind. She wanted to reach out, to do something, anything that might bridge the distance between them. But she didn't even know where to start.
The door to the classroom creaked open midway through the lesson, and Fayne glanced up just as Raxian slipped in, trying to keep his arrival as inconspicuous as possible. The teacher barely looked up, only giving a slight nod of acknowledgment as Raxian moved to his seat. He offered a casual smile to the class as he sat down, dropping his bag beside him, his expression carefully neutral, as if everything was perfectly normal. But Fayne saw right through it.
There was a slight stiffness to his movements, a heaviness in his posture that he couldn't quite hide. He looked exhausted, shadows under his eyes betraying sleepless nights, and his usual easy grin seemed forced, as though he was wearing a mask. He met Fayne's gaze for a brief moment, gave her a small nod, and turned his attention to his notebook. She wanted to reach out, to ask him what was really going on, but she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't say a word. Not yet. Not until it was unavoidable.
She'd learned that the hard way, after the last time.
During the first and second kidnappings, she'd been pulled in, notified by Raxian and family alike. She'd been there, desperately trying to find any clue, any piece of information that could help bring Sable back. But afterward, when Sable had finally been found, Fayne was left on the outside again. Sable's recovery, her healing—that was a process Raxian kept close, guarding it as if it was something fragile and sacred. Fayne hadn't been invited into that part of their world. She understood why, but it didn't make it any easier to accept.
Every once in a while, she'd see them together, Sable leaning on Raxian, her expression fragile, almost haunted. And Raxian—he'd always have that same look in his eyes, one of fierce protectiveness, a resolve that seemed to carry the weight of Sable's pain as if it was his own. Fayne knew he was trying to be strong for her, carrying something that no one else was allowed to share.
But as much as she tried to be understanding, it hurt to be kept at arm's length. She wanted to know. She wanted to help. But every time she tried, she hit the same wall of quiet denial, of brushed-off reassurances that everything was fine, that they didn't need her. It was as though she was only allowed to witness the aftermath, the chaos and trauma of the incidents themselves—but never the quiet, painful work of healing that followed.
Now, as she watched Raxian scribble half-heartedly in his notebook, she felt that same pang of frustration and worry. He was putting on a show for everyone else, pretending to be the same person he'd always been, but she could see the cracks. She could see how much he was struggling to keep it all together.
Part of her wanted to call him out right there, to demand that he tell her the truth, but she knew it would be useless. Raxian wouldn't open up to her, not until something forced him to. She'd seen him do it before—carrying the weight of his own pain and Sable's until it became too much to bear. He wouldn't let anyone in unless he absolutely had to.
So Fayne sat there, biting her lip, hands clenched on her desk, feeling the tension coil in her stomach. She knew this silence couldn't last forever. Sooner or later, something would give, something would break. And when that happened, she would be there, ready to help however she could, even if it meant waiting on the sidelines until the worst came to pass.
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Fayne lingered in the cafeteria doorway, her gaze sweeping over the tables until she spotted Raxian across the room. He was laughing with a few friends, his smile easy and bright. Anyone looking at him would think everything was perfectly normal, but Fayne could see the subtle stiffness in his posture, the way he leaned away ever so slightly, as if he was trying to create distance even while surrounded by friends.
She'd hoped to spend lunch with him, maybe find a quiet moment to talk, to bridge the growing gap between them. But as she started toward him, one of his friends noticed her and nudged Raxian's shoulder, muttering something that made him turn in her direction. His eyes met hers for a brief moment, and he gave a quick, almost apologetic wave before he was pulled back into the conversation. Fayne's steps faltered, and she felt her heart sink as she watched him settle back into his seat, his attention already drifting elsewhere.
A part of her wanted to keep walking, to join his group and make herself part of his world again, but something held her back. Maybe it was the way he seemed to deliberately avoid her gaze, or the fact that he hadn't invited her to sit with them, hadn't even tried to come over. Whatever it was, she felt an invisible barrier between them, one that seemed to grow thicker every day.
She turned away and found her usual spot with Leah, Mira, and Mark. As she settled down, her friends welcomed her with easy smiles and casual chatter, but the hollow feeling in her chest lingered. She couldn't shake the image of Raxian sitting at the other table, laughing with people she barely knew, people who seemed to be filling the space she used to occupy. It was like watching a friendship unravel, piece by piece, while she was powerless to stop it.
The cafeteria felt strangely empty despite the noise around her. She tried to focus on the conversation at her own table, nodding along and offering the occasional laugh, but her mind kept wandering back to Raxian. She missed the way they used to be—inseparable, two halves of the same whole. Now, they felt like strangers, drifting further apart with each passing day.
The thought gnawed at her. Was he avoiding her? She wanted to believe he wasn't, that this distance was just a phase, a byproduct of everything he'd been going through. But the evidence was hard to ignore. They hadn't spent real time together in weeks. Even their conversations had become shorter, filled with half-hearted reassurances and vague answers. It was like he was slipping through her fingers, and there was nothing she could do to hold on.
As lunch dragged on, Fayne found herself glancing over at him more and more, watching him interact with his new group of friends. She hated it—the sense of being on the outside, the feeling that he was finding a place for himself that didn't include her. She hated sitting at a separate table, hated how hollow the cafeteria felt without him by her side. And most of all, she hated the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, he was choosing to be somewhere else.
When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of lunch, she stood up slowly, watching as Raxian's group gathered their things and drifted toward the hallway. He glanced back in her direction once, a fleeting look that barely lasted a second, before he disappeared into the crowd. Fayne felt a pang in her chest as she watched him go, her hands clenching around the strap of her bag.
Were they splitting into separate worlds? The question echoed in her mind as she made her way back to class, the feeling of emptiness settling deeper with every step.
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Fayne watched Raxian disappear down the hallway, his back turned to her as he walked away without so much as a glance in her direction. Her chest felt tight, frustration and sadness simmering beneath the surface. She could only hold this in for so long before it started to wear her down. She needed to talk to someone, someone who knew Raxian, who might understand this ache that had been gnawing at her all day. She pulled out her phone, quickly typing a message to Raze.
"Hey, are you free to chat for a bit? I just… need to vent."
The response came almost immediately, and a small, relieved smile tugged at her lips. Raze, reliable as ever.
"Hey, Fayne. I was planning to meet up with Solace this afternoon, but you're more than welcome to join us if you'd like. Could be a change of pace?"
Fayne hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the screen. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be around anyone else right now, especially not someone she didn't know that well. But maybe Raze was right. Maybe a change of pace, a chance to clear her head with some friends, would help her make sense of all this.
"Thanks, Raze. I'll meet you there."
An hour later, Fayne found herself at the small café where she'd agreed to meet Raze and Solace. The place was cozy and quiet, with soft music playing in the background and the faint aroma of coffee filling the air. She spotted Raze and Solace at a table by the window, deep in conversation, and made her way over, offering them a small smile as she slid into the seat across from them.
Raze greeted her with a warm grin, his easygoing nature always a comfort. Solace, whom she'd only spoken to a few times, gave her a gentle nod, her gaze calm and observant. Fayne instantly felt a sense of ease, as if Solace understood without needing an explanation. There was a quiet wisdom about her, a presence that felt grounding.
"Thanks for letting me crash," Fayne murmured, glancing between them. "I just… needed a breather."
"Anytime, Fayne," Raze replied, his voice kind. "What's on your mind?"
Fayne took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts, but as she opened her mouth, everything poured out in a rush. "It's Raxian," she admitted, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know… it's like he's pulling away. We used to be close, but now he barely even looks at me. He hasn't told me anything about what's going on with him or Sable. I just feel… shut out."
Raze listened quietly, his gaze steady, while Solace watched her with a thoughtful expression. They didn't interrupt, letting her speak freely, letting her unload the weight she'd been carrying. She found herself grateful for their silence, for the way they simply listened without judgment.
"He's not even saying goodbye anymore," she added, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice. "And I don't know if it's me, or if it's something else. I just… I hate feeling this distance. I don't want to lose him, but it's like he's not even giving me a chance to be there for him."
Raze nodded, his gaze softening with understanding. "Raxian's got a lot on his plate, I think. With everything that happened… it's probably weighing on him more than he's letting on. He's the type to keep things to himself, to try and shoulder it alone."
"Yeah, that's what I thought too," Fayne murmured, her shoulders slumping. "But I don't know how long I can keep watching him drift further away, pretending everything's fine when it's clearly not. I just want to help."
Solace, who had been quiet until now, leaned forward, her voice gentle but firm. "Sometimes… people need time, Fayne. It's not easy to let others into your pain. You can't force someone to open up before they're ready, but you can be there, even if it's from a distance. Trust that he'll come to you when he's ready. He knows you care."
Fayne felt a wave of unexpected relief at Solace's words. Somehow, hearing it from her made it feel less hopeless. She didn't have to chase after Raxian, didn't have to force herself into his world. She could still be there, still offer her support without pushing too hard.
"You're right," she said softly, nodding. "I'll be there for him… even if he doesn't see it yet."
Raze smiled, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "That's the Fayne I know. Raxian's lucky to have you, even if he doesn't realize it right now."
Fayne gave a small smile, the tightness in her chest easing as she looked at the two of them. In that moment, she realized that maybe she didn't have to do this alone. Maybe she could lean on them, just as she'd been wanting Raxian to lean on her. And perhaps, when the time was right, things would come full circle.
For now, though, she was grateful for this change of pace, for the comfort of friends who understood.
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Raze leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as he looked at Fayne thoughtfully. After a moment, he began, his voice gentle yet firm. "You know, Fayne… this actually reminds me a lot of when you and Raxian had that big fallout about a year and a half ago." He tilted his head, a small, understanding smile playing on his lips. "Back then, he'd been skipping school for a couple days, disappearing without a word, and when he finally showed up again, it was like he was… somewhere else. Just like now. I remember how much it gnawed at you—how you wanted answers, needed him to let you in."
Fayne looked down, her fingers tracing patterns on her coffee cup, remembering that time vividly. She remembered the same feeling of helplessness, of reaching out only to have Raxian brush her off. It had hurt then, and it still hurt now.
Raze continued, his tone soft but resolute. "You tried confronting him about it, didn't you? Tried asking him what was wrong, why he was so distant… but he just pushed you away." He paused, his gaze meeting hers. "Fayne, I don't think this time is all that different."
Fayne opened her mouth to protest, but Raze held up a hand, stopping her gently. "Listen," he said, leaning forward. "This isn't about you—not really. It wasn't about you back then, and it's not about you now." He gave her a sympathetic smile, his voice filled with understanding. "It's clearly about Sable. Whatever's going on, he's carrying it for her. He feels responsible, in a way only Raxian can."
Fayne bit her lip, nodding slowly, her frustration slowly ebbing as his words sank in.
Raze's expression softened as he reached over, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I know it hurts, Fayne. I know you want to be there for him, to help him like you always have. But sometimes, he needs to figure things out on his own… especially when he's this wrapped up in protecting someone he cares about. He'll come back around, just like he did last time."
Fayne let out a long breath, her shoulders relaxing as she absorbed his words. "I guess… I just don't want him to feel like he has to keep me out. I want to be there for both of them."
"And you are," Raze assured her, his voice gentle. "More than you know. Just give him time, Fayne. When he's ready, he'll need you more than ever."
Solace, who usually kept her distance from physical gestures, reached out quietly, placing her hand gently over Fayne's. Her touch was light, but it carried a warmth and steadiness that surprised Fayne. Solace didn't say a word, but her gaze met Fayne's with an expression that spoke volumes—an understanding, a quiet strength, and a reassurance that Fayne wasn't alone.
Fayne looked up, catching Solace's gentle smile. In that small, shared moment, she felt a wave of comfort wash over her. Solace's eyes held something else too, a quiet admiration as she glanced over at Raze. There was a softness there, a flicker of pride, as if she was seeing him in a new light.
Raze, oblivious to the look, continued with that same earnestness in his expression, but Solace noticed. She couldn't help but feel a warmth in her chest at seeing this side of him—the friend who could provide such thoughtful, grounded advice, someone who saw beyond himself to truly understand what his friends needed. Her heart swelled with a quiet affection, a subtle admiration that didn't need words.
Fayne, noticing the subtle support from both of them, gave a small, grateful smile. Between Raze's thoughtful words and Solace's silent encouragement, she felt a renewed sense of strength—a reminder that she didn't have to bear her worries alone.
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As the conversation wound down, Fayne sensed it was time to give Raze and Solace their space again. She'd come here feeling burdened and tangled in frustration, but now, with their quiet support and understanding, she felt lighter, clearer.
She rose from her seat, gathering her things with a small, thoughtful smile. Raze gave her a reassuring nod, and Solace met her gaze with that same quiet strength, a look that somehow said, You're not alone. Fayne paused, looking at them both, and her gratitude settled over her like a warm blanket.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. Her gaze lingered on them, the weight of her gratitude unspoken but clear, a gentle acknowledgment of how much their support had meant to her. With a final, thoughtful look, she turned and headed for the door, leaving them to each other once again.
As she walked out of the café, Fayne felt a renewed sense of calm, a certainty that she could keep going, knowing she had friends like them by her side—even if, for now, she'd have to be patient from a distance.
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Fayne's steps slowed as she neared the park, the quiet rustle of leaves underfoot blending with the gentle sounds of the late afternoon. She hadn't meant to come here—at least, not initially. But something about the thought of fresh air, of open space, felt like exactly what she needed to clear her head. Yet, as she rounded a familiar bend near the large oak tree in the center of the park, she stopped short.
There, under the sprawling branches, sat Sable and Raxian, side by side, their heads close together as if sharing a secret. Fayne felt a flicker of surprise. Sable… outside? The sight both warmed her and filled her with curiosity. So she was venturing out, if only a little. Fayne couldn't help but wonder what had brought them here together, away from the eyes of everyone else, and she felt that familiar ache—a longing to be part of whatever it was that they shared.
She took a step forward, debating whether to call out to them, to let them know she was here. But something held her back. She didn't want to interrupt, didn't want to disturb whatever quiet moment they were sharing. Instead, she found herself slipping behind a nearby cluster of trees, hiding in the shadows as she watched them from a distance.
What am I doing? she chided herself, feeling a pang of guilt. She didn't want to feel like a stalker, like someone sneaking around to uncover secrets that weren't hers to know. But despite herself, her gaze remained fixed on them, her curiosity unyielding.
From where she stood, she could just make out the soft murmur of their voices, low and gentle. Sable looked… different. There was a quiet vulnerability to her, a hesitation in her movements that Fayne had never seen before. She leaned toward Raxian, her face partially hidden, her expression softened in a way that spoke of trust, of reliance. Raxian, for his part, looked entirely focused on her, his gaze steady and unwavering, as if he was holding her up with his presence alone.
Fayne felt a pang in her chest as she watched them. This was the part of Raxian she hadn't seen, the part that had been carefully guarded from everyone else. She'd wanted to understand, to know what was happening, but seeing them like this only made her realize how much he had taken on. Whatever Sable was going through, Raxian was in it with her, completely and wholly, in a way that left no room for anyone else.
And as much as it hurt to admit, Fayne knew that her place was outside this moment, that what they shared now was something fragile and deeply personal—something that didn't belong to anyone else.
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Fayne slipped away from the park without a sound, weaving her way back along the familiar path toward home. Her thoughts lingered on Sable and Raxian, the quiet, unbreakable bubble they shared. She missed them—missed the days when they were all close, when there were no walls between them. But seeing them together, so wrapped up in each other, she knew that whatever they were going through wasn't hers to intrude upon. That space belonged to them alone.
By the time she reached her front door, the warmth of home wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, soothing some of the ache in her chest. The smell of cinnamon and baked apples drifted through the air, filling her senses with a cozy sweetness. Her mom appeared in the doorway, apron on and hair pulled back, smiling as she saw her.
"Hey, sweetheart," her mom greeted, giving her a soft hug. "Perfect timing—just in time for dessert."
Fayne smiled, the familiar scent of apple pie tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Smells amazing, Mom," she replied, stepping inside and dropping her bag by the door. She made her way to the sink, washing her hands as the scent of the pie filled the kitchen. It was warm and inviting, a reminder of simpler days when her biggest worry was whether or not dessert would be ready before dinner.
"Mind helping me set the table?" her mom asked, already pulling out plates and silverware from the cabinet.
"Of course," Fayne replied, reaching for the napkins and setting them out, her hands moving on autopilot as her thoughts drifted. The quiet busyness of setting the table, of slipping back into her routine, helped ease the tension from earlier. She focused on the small, comforting details—the familiar clink of plates, the warmth of the kitchen, the steady presence of her mom moving beside her.
Her mom glanced over as they worked, sensing the quiet in her daughter. "How was your day?" she asked, her tone gentle.
Fayne hesitated for a moment, her fingers smoothing out a napkin as she considered how to answer. "It was… okay," she said finally, offering a small smile. "I spent some time with Raze and Solace, which was nice." She didn't mention the rest—the heaviness she'd felt, the quiet ache of missing Sable and Raxian. Somehow, the warmth of home made it easier to let those thoughts settle.
Her mom seemed to understand without pressing further, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. "I'm glad. And I'm sure they enjoyed spending time with you." She paused, taking the pie out of the oven and placing it on the counter to cool. The golden crust glistened, flecked with cinnamon, and Fayne found herself smiling at the sight. There was something so simple, so grounding about watching her mom bake. The quiet rhythm of it made her feel safe.
They finished setting the table in companionable silence, and as they worked, the warm scent of the pie filled the room, bringing a sense of peace that Fayne hadn't realized she needed. Maybe she didn't have all the answers right now, maybe she couldn't fix everything—but here, in the warmth of her kitchen, surrounded by the familiar comforts of home, she felt a little more steady, a little more like herself.
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After dinner, Fayne helped her parents wash up, drying and putting away the dishes while her mom wiped down the counters. The soft clinking of plates, the warm kitchen lights, and the easy silence with her parents brought a small sense of calm. Once they'd finished, she headed upstairs, the quiet house settling around her as evening crept in. She slipped into her room, closing the door gently behind her, and sank onto her bed, her thoughts still buzzing with the events of the day.
Then she remembered Leah's insistence earlier. You have to watch the new Heartsteel show tonight, Fayne! Don't leave me hanging! A small smile tugged at her lips. The Heartsteel spin-off… of all things. Just this morning, Leah hadn't been able to stop talking about it, practically bouncing with excitement over the new episodes. Fayne chuckled, shaking her head as she grabbed her laptop.
She pulled up the show and clicked play, settling back against her pillows as the familiar League of Legends world filled her screen. The opening scene brought her right into the Heartsteel band's chaotic lives, where the spotlight fell on none other than Ezreal himself, flashing his trademark grin and leaning back in his seat with an easy confidence that almost felt real. The setting—a backstage area with a buzzing, lively atmosphere—made her feel like she was right there with them, part of their ridiculous antics.
Ezreal's cheeky banter with Aphelios, who stayed stubbornly mute but managed to convey plenty through his deadpan expressions, had her laughing under her breath. Ezreal's energy and confidence were infectious, and somehow Aphelios managed to keep up with him, shrugging and rolling his eyes without saying a word. There was something comforting about seeing them, characters she'd known for years, in this fresh, quirky light.
Then Sett strode in, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down at the others with his signature "big brother" act. The character's tough-guy stance was almost too much, like he was trying a little too hard to be the intimidating leader. Fayne found herself smiling as he delivered his lines, his voice deep and slightly rough around the edges. He was gruff but with a clear, warm protectiveness underneath, and she found herself warming to him as he scolded Ezreal and Aphelios for their antics. The "big man" of the group, trying to keep the younger ones in line—he was endearing in his own way.
The show's lighthearted banter and playful energy eased the tension Fayne had been holding in all day. She found herself laughing more freely, her worries slipping to the back of her mind as she let herself get lost in the Heartsteel crew's ridiculous world. League of Legends had always been woven into her life, a constant presence that connected her to her friends, to Raxian and Sable, even now. The characters, the universe, the silly rivalries and triumphs—all of it felt like home in a strange way.
This show, as over-the-top and silly as it was, reminded her of simpler days, of late nights spent gaming with her friends, laughing until their voices were hoarse. The familiar characters on the screen felt like old friends, welcoming her back with open arms. She watched them bicker and tease each other, their personalities clashing in hilarious ways, and for a little while, she let herself just enjoy the moment.
When the episode ended, she found herself feeling lighter, a soft smile lingering on her lips. Maybe it was just a show, just a fictional world—but it was a world that had brought her closer to the people she cared about, a world that somehow made everything feel a little bit better, even on the hardest days.
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The cool bathroom light reflected off the mirror, casting a soft glow around Fayne as she washed her face, the gentle trickle of water a quiet backdrop to the music playing softly from her phone. It was one of her favorite playlists—calming, with soft instrumentals and delicate piano notes that soothed her after a long day. Wrapped in the cozy fabric of her pajamas, she let the soft notes fill the small space, grounding her as she went through her nightly routine.
She reached for her toothbrush, brushing her teeth with lazy strokes, feeling the weight of the day beginning to melt away. Just as she started rinsing her mouth, her phone beeped with a notification. She absentmindedly picked it up, expecting it to be something trivial—maybe another group chat update or a new episode reminder from Leah.
But as her eyes landed on the screen, her breath caught in her throat.
The message was anonymous, no name, no profile picture, just a single line:
"Are you watching them too?"
Fayne's heart dropped, a chill spreading through her as she tried to make sense of the words. Her fingers turned clammy, her grip loosening as her toothbrush slipped from her hand, clattering into the sink. She barely noticed it, her gaze glued to the screen, her mind racing with a mixture of fear and confusion. This wasn't just strange; it was beyond unsettling. Her skin prickled with a creeping sense of dread, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.
Who would send this? How did they know? And… what did they mean by "watching them"?
Her mind flickered back to the park, to the sight of Sable and Raxian under the oak tree. She'd watched them from a distance, hidden among the trees, careful not to disturb them. She thought she'd been alone, thought she'd been unseen… but this message hinted otherwise.
Her hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the sink, trying to steady herself, to push down the rising panic. She struggled to take a steady breath, the world feeling suddenly too quiet, the calming music from her phone now adding to the eerie atmosphere.
With shaking fingers, she typed out a message to Milo, feeling desperate for an anchor. Her pulse thundered as she hit send, watching the screen with bated breath, praying he'd be awake.
"Milo… we need to talk. I need you."
For a moment, everything felt suspended, her mind racing through every possibility, every shadow that could be lurking around her. The seconds dragged on, each one stretching longer than the last as she waited, hoping, needing to know she wasn't alone in this.
Finally, her phone vibrated, and a message from Milo popped up on the screen:
"Fayne? Are you okay? What's going on?"
A shaky breath of relief escaped her, the tension easing just a little. She quickly typed out a reply, her fingers barely able to keep up with the whirlwind of thoughts in her head.
"I… I got this message. It's creepy. Like… someone's watching me. Or us. I don't know. Can we meet?"
She clutched her phone to her chest, waiting for his response, clinging to the small comfort his words offered. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that this message was only the beginning.
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Fayne took a deep breath as she stepped out of the bathroom, the lingering scent of her floral soap offering a faint, fleeting comfort. Her mom's soft "Goodnight" drifted up from her parents' room downstairs, a familiar and usually soothing sound. But tonight, those words felt hollow, like a distant echo that couldn't reach her. She forced herself to respond with a quiet, "Goodnight, Mom," her voice trembling just slightly. She didn't want to worry her mom, didn't want to let on that something had unsettled her so deeply.
In the quiet darkness, she made her way back to her room, shutting the door firmly behind her. The click of the lock felt almost symbolic, a final barrier between her and the unsettling message lingering in her mind. She slid into bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin as though its warmth could shield her from the chill that had settled in her bones. But no amount of blankets or pillows could block out the uneasy feeling tightening around her chest.
Lying there, Fayne tried to focus on her breathing, willing her thoughts to slow, to calm. But the message replayed over and over in her mind, a sinister whisper that refused to be silenced.
"Are you watching them too?"
The words clawed at her, each syllable laced with something dark, something that felt personal and invasive. She couldn't shake the feeling that whoever had sent it knew far more than they should. She clutched her phone tightly in her hand, the faint glow of the screen casting soft shadows on her ceiling as she read over Milo's reassuring response again.
Tomorrow, she reminded herself. I'll see Milo tomorrow.
But the hours between now and then stretched out in her mind like an endless chasm, each minute filled with an uneasy silence. She forced herself to take a steadying breath, closing her eyes, but the moment she did, images from earlier that day filled her mind—the sight of Sable and Raxian under the oak tree, the peaceful stillness of that moment, and her own hidden form, watching from a distance. Was someone else watching me then? she wondered, her heart racing at the thought.
The idea of Lynx being out there, lurking in the shadows, watching her or her friends, sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't shake the feeling of being exposed, vulnerable, even here in her own room. The shadows in the corners seemed to press in on her, the silence growing heavier with each passing second.
Her thoughts spiraled, the fear tightening around her chest like a vice. She tried to tell herself that it was just a message, that it could be a prank, a coincidence. But deep down, she knew that wasn't true. This felt calculated, deliberate, like someone knew exactly how to make her feel vulnerable.
The wind outside picked up, brushing against her window, and she flinched, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Every little noise felt amplified, every creak of the house making her pulse jump. She tried to convince herself that she was safe, that nothing was lurking outside her window, but the fear wouldn't let go.
Would she even be able to sleep tonight? She lay there, wide-eyed and tense, listening to the sounds of the house settling, the gentle rustle of leaves outside, the faint hum of her phone. The familiar rhythm of the world around her offered no comfort, only a reminder that, somewhere out there, someone knew she was watching.
Tomorrow, she repeated to herself, clutching her phone like a lifeline. Tomorrow, I'll meet Milo. I won't be alone in this.
But as the night dragged on, her mind refused to quiet, and she lay there, eyes open in the darkness, waiting for dawn.
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Fayne's heart leapt as she spotted Milo standing by the station entrance, his posture relaxed yet alert, scanning the crowd until his eyes landed on her. He'd come all this way, all for her. The thought brought a warmth to her chest that soothed some of the fear from the night before. She quickened her steps, moving toward him with a new understanding—a sense that this was more than just friendship. They were there for each other, no matter what, and she knew that whatever this strange message meant, she didn't have to face it alone.
Without a second thought, she wrapped her arms around him, surprising even herself with the gesture. For a split second, she worried it was too much, that maybe he'd feel uncomfortable. But Milo's arms came up slowly, a little awkwardly, patting her back with a gentle, grounding touch. He didn't say anything, but his presence alone was enough to ease the tension in her shoulders.
"Thank you," she whispered, pulling back and offering him a small, grateful smile. "You didn't have to come all this way, you know."
Milo shrugged, though there was a faint smile in his tired eyes. "You needed me, didn't you?"
She couldn't argue with that, and for once, she didn't feel like she had to repay him. This was just… them, a mutual understanding that had grown over time, something steady and solid, maybe even deeper than either of them had realized.
As they started walking, Fayne pulled out her phone, showing him the anonymous message. Milo took it, reading the words carefully, his expression darkening as he studied each line. Lynx was still out there, a shadow looming over their lives, but there was something about this message that gnawed at him.
"This… doesn't feel like Lynx," he muttered, his brow furrowing as he passed the phone back to her. "If anything, this message feels… different. Like someone else is watching. Someone who knows… maybe more than they should."
Fayne's heart skipped at his words, the unsettling feeling creeping back in. "What do you mean? You think it's not him?"
Milo hesitated, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I don't know," he admitted, his gaze meeting hers. "But… I've been digging into Zenith more than ever these past few weeks. And the deeper I go, the more I feel like I'm hitting walls, like there's something—someone—keeping me from finding the answers."
She noticed the exhaustion etched into his features, the dark circles under his eyes. It was clear that he'd been pushing himself, far beyond what any of them had realized. He'd been carrying this burden mostly alone, diving into the darker corners of their world to protect them all. For a moment, she felt a surge of guilt, realizing how much he'd been through for their sake.
"Milo…" she said softly, reaching out and taking his hand. Her fingers tightened around his in a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you… for coming all this way. And for… everything else."
He offered her a faint, tired smile. "Anytime, Fayne. Really."
She glanced at the nearby café, a small, cozy spot with warm lighting and the smell of fresh coffee wafting out the door. "Come on," she said, tugging his hand gently. "Let me buy you some coffee. I think we could both use a break before we dive into… whatever this is."
He didn't protest, letting her lead him inside. As they found a seat and placed their order, Fayne felt a sense of calm settle over her. Whatever strange, unsettling message lay between them, they'd face it together. And as they sat there, hands wrapped around steaming mugs, sharing quiet moments and small reassurances, she realized that maybe, just maybe, they had all they needed to make it through.