Angelo Zayne had always felt like he was drifting through life, like a passenger in his own story. He wasn't unhappy, but he wasn't exactly happy either—just… existing. Most people had aspirations, dreams, goals, but his only real ambition was to make enough money to live comfortably and adopt a few kids one day. That was it. No grand plans, no heroic ideals. He didn't even care much about romance. If anything, he actively avoided it.

He sat in his tiny, cluttered room, staring at the ceiling. His 14-year-old sister, Annabel, had been screaming at Emmanuel again. That wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that she was still at it, meaning this time, he had probably done something truly unforgivable—like breathing too loudly in her presence.

"ANGELO!" Annabel's voice pierced through the thin walls.

He sighed. "What?"

"COME AND TALK TO YOUR FAVORITE BROTHER BEFORE I KILL HIM!"

A pause.

"Correction," Emmanuel's voice cut in, calm but slightly panicked. "Before she ATTEMPTS to kill me. Big difference."

Angelo sighed again, louder this time, making sure they heard his suffering. He rolled off the bed, dragging himself out of his room like a man carrying the weight of the universe. Which, in a way, he was. He just didn't know it yet.

In the living room, Annabel stood with her arms crossed, her already messy hair even wilder than usual. Emmanuel sat on the couch, looking smug despite the fact that Annabel was one step away from launching a flip-flop at his head.

"What did he do this time?" Angelo asked, rubbing his eyes.

"He called me—" Annabel took a deep breath, eyes blazing, "—a 'spoiled dictator who lives in filth and rules through terror.'"

Angelo blinked. Then turned to Emmanuel. "That's… actually not a bad description."

Annabel gasped, betrayal clear in her expression. "You're supposed to be on MY side!"

"I am," Angelo yawned, stretching. "But I also believe in giving credit where it's due."

Annabel threw her slipper at him instead. He caught it effortlessly and tossed it aside.

"You know what? Forget it!" she huffed, stomping off to her room, slamming the door dramatically behind her.

Angelo turned to Emmanuel. "You're going to get yourself killed one of these days."

"Nah," Emmanuel grinned. "She's too lazy to actually follow through."

Angelo smirked. "True."

Their caretaker, Cordelia, walked into the room, shaking her head at them. "You two should be studying instead of causing chaos."

"Technically, I'm just an innocent bystander," Angelo pointed out.

"Uh-huh," Cordelia gave him a look that said she wasn't buying it. "Go get ready for your tutorial classes."

Angelo groaned, dragging his feet back to his room.

---

The tutorial center was exactly as exhausting as he expected it to be. Sitting in a cramped classroom with a mix of teenagers who either took studying way too seriously or not seriously enough.

Jade, his best friend, nudged him. "You didn't sleep through class this time. Proud of you."

"I'm trying to be a responsible adult," Angelo muttered, half-asleep.

Jade raised an eyebrow. "You were drooling on your notes five minutes ago."

"Small progress is still progress," he yawned.

JJ and Eli, his other friends, walked over.

"Bro, are you even prepared for the exams?" Eli asked.

"Not even slightly," Angelo admitted.

JJ laughed. "At least you're honest."

Jade sighed dramatically. "At this rate, I'll have to sew you a suit for when you inevitably fail and have to beg for a job."

Angelo smirked. "At least I'll look stylish while failing."

"You guys are hopeless," Jade shook her head.

---

The walk home was quiet. Angelo didn't mind. He liked the silence. Or at least, he thought he did. But something was off today. Something felt… missing.

When he got home, he walked straight to his room, intending to collapse on his bed. But the moment he stepped inside, he stopped.

His room felt… unfamiliar.

The books on his shelf were arranged exactly as he left them. The game console sat on his desk, untouched. The faint scent of detergent still lingered from when Cordelia had done laundry that morning.

And yet… something was missing.

Or rather, someone.

He frowned, trying to remember.

There was no one, right? He only had three siblings. Annabel, Emmanuel, and Gift.

So why did it feel like there should be someone else?

He shook his head. Probably just exhaustion messing with his brain.

He climbed into bed, closed his eyes, and let sleep take him.

And in the depths of his dreams, echoes of laughter he couldn't place faded into silence.

---

Angelo had always been forgetful.

But this wasn't normal forgetfulness.

This was something else.

Because sometimes, he didn't just forget little things.

He forgot people.

And sometimes, entire places.

Whole cities lost in his mind, names he couldn't recall, voices that once meant something slipping away like sand through his fingers.

The worst part?

He never realized it.

Because how could you miss something if you didn't even know it was gone?