Note: This is just a prologue, offering a brief glimpse into his daily life and the people who hold significant importance to him. If you'd prefer to skip this, feel free to do so, as this section doesn't contain any essential scenes or lines critical to the main plot.
"Good job, Ryker!" His professor's voice cut out midair. "Also, don't forget the favor I asked you. See ya!" He teasingly added with enthusiasm, but he knew it was just a straight-up mockery of him. He slightly turned and nodded in response.
The bell rang, signaling the end of another class. The other students hurriedly packed their bags, chatting in groups, their voices blending into a hum of casual conversation. But for Ryker, the room felt colder with every passing second. He stayed at his desk a little longer than usual, pretending to organize his notes, avoiding the stares that lingered on him like shadows.
"You're getting there!" Lia's voice drifted towards him. He tried to slow his pace, but the words stung like a poem he makes. She said it with a soft tone, but it wasn't kind. It's too distant to be. He sighed slowly, trying to calm himself, hoping she didn't notice the way his hands trembled as he shoved his book into his bag.
As the classroom emptied, he stood slowly, trying to avoid bumping into anyone, but it was impossible. Kaito brushed past him with a practiced nonchalance, his shoulder jarring Ryker's. No apology, not even a glance back. Ryker flinched, lowering his head.
"You okay, Ryker?" He slightly looked up, enough to see Ava, who spoke. Ava said it with a smile, a tone with kindness but far away from being genuine. Ava's the only one who's too free to be bothered to talk to someone like him. But it didn't stop him from looking up to her even though he knew she was just always like that, a kind soul but with an empty heart. He flashed an awkward smile, signaling he's fine.
"Oh, you're here today," Emma added from across the room, her tone carrying that all-too-familiar undercurrent of mock surprise. She smirked, her eyes flicking to Ryker as if she was inspecting a specimen she didn't quite understand. "I thought you'd skip today, like usual."
Ryker's heart dropped, but he didn't say anything. What could he say? He could already feel their eyes on him, waiting for the inevitable misstep, the awkward silence, the answer that would never be right.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and glanced toward the door, but before he could leave, he caught Kaito's eyes from across the room. For a moment, their gazes locked, and Kaito did nothing. No sneer, no word. Just a look, cold and indifferent, before he turned away.
The hallway felt just as empty as the classroom, the voices of the other students muffled, like they were all part of a different world. Ryker walked slowly, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that he was being watched, that every glance held some unspoken judgment. It was always like this—everyone pretending nothing was wrong while they silently passed judgment on him, waiting for the moment he'd mess up again.
His footsteps echoed in the silence.
The bus ride home feels everything warped, wrong. It's pouring rain outside, like the sky is angry. The streets are mostly lively because of lights and buildings with open windows, letting the fresh air come in and out while the curtain danced like a whispering breeze, and the moonlight poured through the window. And the people who passed by with different stories that carried a sense of hope, but for him, all he has is emptiness.
At home it was no better. The scent of food greeted him as he stepped through the door—a warm, savory aroma that filled the air. It was a sudden reminder of his memories that doesn't feel like it exists somewhere in his mind. He never experienced getting greeted by his mom with a freshly baked bread that can fill any stomach with just the aroma. Just the cold glances of his mom as he comes home every night are the only thing that fills his mind, with an emptiness lingering. As he expected, his mother didn't ask about his day. She never did. She didn't need to. He could already tell what her answer would be—too tired to care. Maybe she thought that was what he deserved. Maybe they all did.
He collapsed onto the bed, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. The coldness in his chest feels worse than the chill in the air. The taunts and harsh words from school echo in his mind, only to be replaced by the familiar sting of silence at home. It's a different kind of cold here—one that wraps itself around him in the form of neglect, leaving him isolated. The bed, though warm, feels distant, as if it's not enough to shield Ryker from the relentless feelings that seep deeper with each passing moment. Ryker curled up, eyes closed, wishing the world would just stop spinning long enough for him to escape.
Then a soft knock at the door—unexpected, tentative. It's a small sound, but it cuts through the stillness like a lifeline. Ryker didn't bother to move at first, unsure whether to acknowledge it, torn between the urge to hide and a flicker of curiosity. Another knock follows, and then a voice, gentle but insistent.
"Are you okay?"
It's a voice he didn't expect to hear, a familiar one, yet it feels like an intrusion in his fragile world of solitude.
The door remains shut. "Are you hungry, Lim? Do you want to eat with me?"Ryker's answer sounded like a whisper but enough to be heard on the other side of the door. The offer feels both simple and profound, a small attempt to bridge the gap between the heavy air and the need for comfort.
The door creaks open slowly, hesitantly, as if he's testing the waters. Ryker's brother steps inside, his face a mix of concern and awkwardness, the kind he always wears when he doesn't know what to say. He's holding two plates of food—simple, but warm. The scent of something comforting, maybe fried rice or soup, fills the room, cutting through the icy stillness.
He sets one plate down on Ryker's desk without a word, then sits on the edge of his bed, balancing his own plate on his lap. For a moment, he doesn't look at him. Instead, he picks at his food, breaking the silence in his own way.
"I… didn't know if you'd come out," he finally says, his voice low. "So I brought it here."
There's no lecture, no prying questions. Just his quiet presence, awkward yet steadfast. It's his way of showing up, of saying he's here without forcing Ryker to speak. As he glanced at the plate, Ryker realized he had even brought his favorite, the little detail tugging at something deep inside.
"It's okay if you don't feel like talking," he says, his eyes flicking toward him briefly. "But… it'd be nice if you ate. With me."
His attempt at normalcy feels fragile, like he's walking on eggshells, but it's enough to crack through the wall he'd built, if only a little.
"Lim, why are you doing all of this?" he asked, his voice quieter than he intended. "Like… like you always know how to make me feel better. Like you've got it all figured out or something."
Lim lets out a small laugh—dry and self-deprecating. "I don't have anything figured out," he admits, leaning back slightly. "I just... I hate seeing you like this. It sucks. And if sitting here and eating with you can help, even a little, then... I'm going to do it."
For a moment, he doesn't know how to respond. The vulnerability in his words catches him off guard, like he's laying himself bare in a way he has never seen before. There's no pity in his eyes, just a quiet determination to remind him that he's not as alone as he feels.
Lim sets his plate down, leaning forward slightly as if trying to bridge the gap between the two of them. Despite his soft demeanor, there's an underlying strength in the way he carries himself—like someone who understands more than he lets on.
Lim is Ryker's younger brother, though at times it's hard to tell who depends on whom. For Ryker, Lim has always been more than just a sibling. He's an anchor, a steady presence in a world that feels too chaotic and uncertain. Despite his quiet nature, Lim has a way of making people feel seen, of noticing the cracks others try so hard to hide.
To Ryker, Lim is the one person he can rely on without hesitation—the person who's stood by him in his darkest moments without asking for anything in return. It's not just that Lim knows how to comfort; it's that he chooses to, even when it's not easy.
The steady patter of rain against the window fills the silence in the room. Lim stands, his hands shoved into his pockets as he tilts his head toward the door. "It's raining outside," he says, his voice calm but edged with a flicker of determination. "Wanna go?"
Ryker raises an eyebrow, caught off guard. "If that's what makes you happy, I wouldn't—" he starts, but Lim cuts him off with a small laugh, glancing up from under his lashes. His brother's unfinished sentence falters when he sees the intensity in Lim's gaze, sharp and unwavering.
"Fine," Ryker mutters, rolling his eyes. "I will."
Lim's expression softens for just a moment before his eyes flicker with mischief. "Then can I use Blue?"
Ryker freezes. His eyes narrow. "My skateboard? No way—"
But before he can finish, Lim bolts down the stairs. Ryker's protests turn into a sharp yell as he hears the sound of something being dragged. "Shoot. Not my baby!"Ryker shouts, scrambling off the bed as he grabs the nearest thing—a slipper.
By the time Ryker reaches the door, Lim is already outside, clutching the blue skateboard like a trophy. He slams the door shut just in time for the slipper to smack against it with a dull thud.
"Bring him back!"Ryker yells, shoving the door open and darting after him. The rain pelts against his skin as he steps outside, but the sight of Lim, grinning like an idiot as he rolls the skateboard over puddles, fuels his chase.
"You're dead, Lim!" Ryker shouts, his voice drowned by the rain as he sprints after his younger brother, both
of them laughing despite the storm.