The school hallways buzzed with the usual chatter and the shuffle of students heading to their next class. But in the midst of it all, Clara Reed remained an observer. Her presence was like the soft click of a camera lens, unnoticed yet always there, capturing the moments that no one else seemed to notice. With her glasses perched on the tip of her nose and a camera always hanging from her neck, Clara had become something of a silent witness to the world around her.
She wasn't the type to be the center of attention. In fact, she preferred it that way. Her thick-rimmed glasses served as both a shield and a window, a way to disappear into the background while still keeping a close watch on the world unfolding around her. And, more often than not, that world seemed to revolve around Autumn.
Clara had always been quiet, observing, recording life in all its unspoken complexities. While the others were caught up in their own dramas—love, jealousy, and fleeting friendships—Clara found solace in documenting the little moments, the ones that could slip away unnoticed. She saw the subtle glances, the hidden tension, the emotions painted across faces that most people overlooked. And Autumn, with her fierce beauty and increasingly distant demeanor, was always at the heart of it.
From the first moment Clara had seen her, Autumn had been an enigma. She didn't speak much in the beginning, but there was something magnetic about her. Something that drew people in, even when she wasn't trying. But Clara, always watching from the edges, noticed the cracks beneath the surface. She saw how Autumn's eyes, once full of confidence, now flickered with something darker—a restlessness, perhaps, or a quiet ache that she tried to hide behind her sharp words and perfect façade.
Clara's camera was the perfect tool for capturing those fleeting moments. When Autumn laughed with her friends, Clara would snap a photo, freezing that smile before it vanished. When she passed through the hallways with her usual air of superiority, Clara would catch the fleeting sadness that passed through her eyes, as if for a moment, she wasn't quite sure who she was anymore.
But it wasn't just Autumn that Clara documented. It was the entire web of relationships that surrounded her—the subtle shifts in loyalties, the whispered secrets, the quiet betrayals. She understood things about people that they didn't even realize about themselves. And it was that understanding that made her stand apart. She wasn't part of the drama, but she could see it all unfold from her place in the shadows.
Autumn had always been a star, shining brightly in her world of popularity and power. But recently, Clara had noticed something strange. The star was beginning to flicker. The cracks were widening. It was almost as if Autumn's universe was shifting, and Clara, ever the silent observer, was watching it all unravel.
As Clara walked to her locker, the familiar weight of her camera felt comforting against her chest. She hadn't taken many photos of Autumn lately—not for lack of interest, but because something about the way Autumn was slipping away made Clara hesitate. What was it about the girl that had once seemed so untouchable, so confident, that made her feel as though she was losing her grip? And what was it that made Clara feel so deeply connected to her, despite the distance?
Clara turned her attention to the hallway ahead, where Autumn's presence still commanded attention. She wasn't surrounded by her usual circle today. In fact, she looked almost alone, standing with her arms crossed, her eyes scanning the room like a hawk. Clara's finger hovered over the shutter button, but she didn't press it. Not yet. Something told her that this wasn't the moment to capture.
Instead, Clara waited. Watched. And understood.
She understood that Autumn's pain was not just in losing her place, her friends, or her power. It was deeper than that. Autumn's pain was the kind that came from realizing, all at once, that nothing lasts forever. That the world you thought was yours could crumble away in the blink of an eye. Clara saw it, clear as day.
Autumn may not have known it yet, but Clara understood her more than anyone else. Maybe that was why she watched. Maybe it was because, in a way, Clara saw herself in Autumn—lost, trying to hold on to something that was slipping away, unable to speak of the things that truly mattered.
But Clara didn't need to speak. She didn't need to stand in the spotlight. She would continue to watch, continue to capture the world around her, even if no one else saw the story she was telling. Because Clara Reed understood that some stories weren't meant to be told in the loudest voices. Some stories, like Autumn's, were meant to be quietly observed, understood, and perhaps, someday, told through the lens of a camera that captured the moments when no one else was looking.
The school bell rang sharply, echoing down the hallways as Autumn lingered at her locker, her fingers drumming absently against the cold metal. The once-familiar clatter of laughter and gossip no longer felt like part of her world. It was as if the walls around her had started to close in, leaving her isolated in a space she no longer recognized.
She had always been the center of attention—the girl everyone knew, the one who commanded rooms with a smile, who always seemed to fit in, to belong. But now, standing in the middle of the crowded hallway, Autumn felt like a ghost. She watched as her friends passed by, exchanging jokes and plans for the weekend, but they barely glanced in her direction. Her smile, once effortless, felt foreign. Every word that came out of her mouth now felt like a rehearsed line, waiting for the right response that never came.
It had been a long time since Autumn had felt like this—an outsider in a world she once ruled. But lately, everything felt off. The friendships that once defined her were slipping through her fingers, like grains of sand she couldn't hold onto. Even her relationship with Adams, once the most secure part of her life, had become strained, distant, as if they were two strangers passing in the night.
Where had she gone wrong?
She glanced around, watching her peers interact with ease, their lives flowing effortlessly, while she remained anchored in a sea of confusion. No one seemed to notice the shift. To them, Autumn was still the girl they admired from a distance, the one who had everything. But Autumn knew the truth. She wasn't part of that world anymore.
The feeling of isolation crept in deeper, wrapping around her like a cold, unwelcome cloak. She had always been the one with the answers, the one who knew exactly what to say or do, but now she felt like a stranger to herself. The power she once held seemed like an illusion, slipping further and further away, leaving her unmoored in the quiet chaos of her own mind.
And in the background, Clara eyes seemed to watch, as if she knew something Autumn didn't. Something that could either tear her world apart or show her what lay beyond the edges of everything she had ever known.
Autumn thought as she walked down the cold streets, When will the universe officially end?
Main Street, Snowfall Avenue.
Autumn walked in a street filled with Christmas decorations, winter decorations that remain like this throughout the season leading up to Christmas, the street is filled with shops owned by elderly people.
Autumn went towards one of the shops
Viala, my little dear (said the old lady) **viala: hello in Frostbitten**
Viala!!! Moura, how are you?
**moura: old lady, grandma**
-Fine, fine, there are a lot of visitors this year, business is at its best now
This is amazing!
- Is your mother still talking about her and Paris's nonsense? The gentleman did more than he could when he left her her last name and didn't realize that it only fueled her madness even more.
(Autumn laughed) Well, I understand her, after all she was young, and she loved a man from an unknown city, he told her about the beauty of the city, he charmed her as any teenager could be charmed, but she followed him to the ends of the world, from Paris to here, how clumsy she is.
-True, but not only teenagers are stupid when they love, even adults when they love sometimes lose their natural intelligence.
Moura, Pray for me. that I never grow up to be a fool, never live to end up a fool, never love someone enough to be a fool.
(Moura laughed) My dear, we are all fools. We hate life but we live. We love it but we prepare for death. We love people but we leave them. We hate them so we choose to be close to them and make things difficult for them. To be human means to be foolish.
Autumn sighed, hating the way life was going.
Moura held out her hands to Autumn's some smoked cheese cakes, "Although life is hard, my dear, you have to warm your belly to be a good warrior."
Autumn smiled as she took a bite, a tear rolling down her cheek. Moura said, "Why are you crying, dear? Is the food too hot?"
- It's so warm and delicious, I'm crying because I'm happy.
Moura smiled, took off her gloves and arranged Autumn's hair, "Heh, eat, my dear fool."
While Autumn was chewing her food, she asked, "Moura, do you think I'm a good person? Maybe better than others in this world? And the city? That's really too much to ask."
Moura smiled, "Of course not, my dear. Your question is not much. I don't know everyone in the city, or the world, and I certainly don't care, but I know you, so I love you, so you are the best."
Tears streamed down Autumn's cheeks, "Moura, our house has a very large heating system, and yet every meal is colder than the last and tasteless. But despite the cold in the streets, your food is all warm and delicious."
Moura sighed, "Oh dear, but never mind, you know where my house is, whenever you come out of the dining room hungry, you know where to go." Autumn nodded at her and bowed and said goodbye and went on her way.
Crystal Lake
When Autumn went, waiting for the place to be empty, she found a celebration, and people dancing around the lake, which made her greet one of the old men and turn around, but she threw Theo in her face, "Oh my God, Theo?"
Theo laughed silly, "I love hearing my name from you."
What are you doing here?
- I was walking around, and then I found myself here.
Oh
- Where did you learn the local language?
(Theo asked)
It's natural for me to learn, it's part of my journey as an ideal hot girl, as a spiritual judge for many girls.
- Did you learn a complete local language to speak it one or two days a year?
(Autumn laughed) Everyone deserves someone to speak their language, don't you think, Theo?
-And who speaks your language?
Silence fell, and snow fell, Autumn's smile that she tried to maintain evaporated with the snowy atmosphere.
For her, in this wide world, no one understood her language.
The music swelled like a quiet whisper carried on the winter wind, and before she knew it, hands reached out, pulling them into the heart of the crowd. Autumn stumbled at first, her breath catching in her throat as snowflakes melted against her flushed cheeks. But then she saw him—Theo—standing just a step away, his eyes alight with something almost mischievous, almost tender.
He extended his hand, a silent invitation. She hesitated for a beat, as though holding back a part of herself, but he only smiled, that boyish smile that made everything else disappear. Slowly, cautiously, she slid her hand into his.
And just like that, they were dancing.
The snow fell around them, soft and steady, a million tiny stars blanketing the world in quiet magic. The laughter of others faded into the distance, a blur of movement and sound, as if the night had given itself entirely to the two of them. Theo spun her gently, his grip steady and warm against the winter's bite. Autumn's dark hair tumbled around her face, streaked with snowflakes like tiny diamonds.
She looked up at him, her smile softer than she'd ever allowed it to be. "You're terrible at this," she teased, though her voice was barely louder than a whisper.
He laughed, unbothered, his voice rich and warm. "And yet here you are, following my every step."
It was true—awkward or not, they moved as if they'd danced this dance a thousand times before. Beneath the dark sky, the stars glimmered faintly, watching them like distant guardians. Theo held her close for a moment longer, their breaths mingling in the cold air, the snow weaving around them like a spell.
"Look at us," he murmured, his voice softer now, for her and her alone. "Dancing in the snow like fools."
Autumn blinked up at him, her expression unreadable—vulnerable, perhaps, for just a moment. "Not fools," she whispered back. "Just… free."
And there it was. The truth that neither of them dared speak aloud. For those fleeting minutes, there was no past, no pain, no rivalry. Just her and Theo, two souls caught in a timeless rhythm under the sky's watchful gaze.
The snow fell heavier now, dusting their shoulders and hair, but neither of them seemed to notice. The cold could not touch them—not when the warmth in their hands and the look in their eyes said more than words ever could.
As the last note of music faded into the night, Theo slowed, his hands lingering on hers for just a moment longer than necessary. Autumn's heart stilled, the air between them thick with something fragile, something unspoken.
"Thank you," she said softly, though she wasn't sure what she was thanking him for.
Theo only smiled, his eyes glowing like firelight in the dark. "Anytime, Autumn."
And as they stepped apart, the world rushed back in—laughter, footsteps, the chill of the evening—but that moment remained, cradled in the snowfall, as though the stars had promised to keep it safe forever.
Clara Reed had always been there—on the sidelines, where no one ever noticed. She stood near an old wooden stall where an elderly woman sold handmade trinkets, bundled in a fraying wool coat. The camera hung around Clara's neck like a second heart, one that beat only when she captured something extraordinary. Her eyes always saw what others missed, flitting from detail to detail like a secret keeper of moments.
Tonight, the world unfolded differently. The snow fell like whispers, dusting the ground in a quiet silver, and the warm golden lights flickered gently on the edges of the scene. Clara saw them.
Autumn and Theo.
It happened so quickly—a tug, a laugh, a step forward. Autumn was pulled into the center of the crowd, and there he was. Theo's hand found hers like it belonged there, steady and certain. The music swelled, the air alive with laughter and melody, as the two began to dance beneath the stars.
Clara's breath caught in her throat. Her fingers moved instinctively, lifting the camera to her face. Click. The first shot. She dropped the camera slightly, eyes flicking over the scene in front of her, and for a moment, it was as if time itself held its breath.
Autumn's head tilted back with a laugh—free, unguarded. Theo watched her, the faintest smile tugging at his lips, as though he knew something no one else did. The snow spiraled around them, their figures framed by the soft glow of string lights.
Clara whispered to herself, her voice a breath of disbelief.
"Wow... I just witnessed a legend by accident. This is definitely my lucky day."
She chuckled softly, half in awe, half afraid to break the magic that seemed to linger in the air.
As she snapped another picture, Clara realized this wasn't just a dance. It wasn't just two people lost in the moment. It was more. A story unfolding before her very eyes—a story she'd somehow stumbled into, one she was now responsible for keeping safe in her lens.
In that moment, they weren't just Autumn and Theo. They were characters from a fairytale—rebels against time, moving as though the snow and stars existed solely to frame them.
Clara lowered her camera, her heart fluttering. "Some moments," she murmured to no one but herself, "exist just to be captured. As if the universe hits pause... just to prove magic is real."
And there she was, on the sidelines, unnoticed yet indispensable. Clara—the quiet observer, the unseen narrator—had witnessed something rare: two lives colliding, a moment that wouldn't ever come again.
The heavy part of it all was that Clara, with those eyes hidden behind her glasses, didn't just see dancing or falling snow. She saw something greater—a moment that broke the silence, defeated loneliness, and proved that even strangers could witness the most beautiful stories in the world.
And for that, she felt lucky.
....In the middle of silence, a black screen, then the sky appears, the sound of autumn appears, and she says to herself, "I feel sorry for my mother, I cannot be part of an ancient French painting, but I just want to be part of this cold city, Frostbitten, it is my true being that explains who I am. I want to live here and die here, this place is much deeper than any place, and lovers can go to every spot and never get bored, it is better than Paris and any place in my opinion. for my mom, if she ever saw the world how i see it, she will get rid of that Paris memory of her. i also think such a cold place suits her better"