Ryle sat on the edge of the bench, his eyes fixed on the cracks on the pavement. The streets were alive with people rushing home, and the muffled hum of conversations.
His thoughts were louder than the city tonight.
The classroom, Faith's desk, the weight of memories—they all swirled in his mind, pulling him into a past he couldn't escape. Every step he'd taken through those hallways had peeled back layers of himself he thought he'd buried long ago. He hadn't expected the flood of emotions, hadn't expected to feel so... raw.
Why had he gone back there? What was he hoping to find? His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the bench. He thought of Faith again—not just her face, but the way she made him feel. She had this way of seeing the world, of seeing him, that made everything seem brighter, simpler.
But she was gone now. And he was here, left with nothing but shadows of what they used to be.
Ryle sighed, leaning back and staring up at the darkening sky. The first stars were beginning to appear, faint and distant. He used to think stars held answers. Faith had teased him about it once, calling him a dreamer.
"Maybe I am," he'd said, half-smiling. "But what's the point if you don't dream?"
He hadn't believed in dreams for a long time now.
The buzz of his phone pulled him from his thoughts. Another message from Lucas. He didn't even have to check to know what it said. The same question, the same hope that maybe today had been the day.
But it wasn't.
Ryle didn't reply, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He didn't have the energy to explain that he wasn't even sure if he was searching for Faith anymore, or if he was just chasing some part of himself he'd lost along the way.
The city lights flickered, bathing the streets in a warm glow. People passed by him, their faces blurred and indifferent.
He closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the city wash over him. In the quiet corners of his mind, he thought of Faith's laugh, of the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, of the way her voice softened when she talked about things that mattered to her.
What would she say if she saw him now? Would she understand the emptiness he felt, the weight of carrying a heart full of unanswered questions?
Ryle opened his eyes and stood, brushing off his jacket. The night was growing colder, and the world didn't stop for anyone.
As he walked away from the bench, he whispered into the night, as if she could hear him:
"I'm still looking, Faith. For you, or maybe for me. I don't know anymore."
The stars above seemed to shimmer, their distant light a quiet reminder that even in the darkest moments, something was still shining or maybe everything's is just a dream , a nightmare that's haunting ever since------.