"Ethan... Ethan..."
At first, the sound was quiet, like a distant train getting closer. But it kept getting louder and louder.
"ETHANNNNNNN!"
Sam shouted angrily, holding a book in front of him.
"Huhhhhh?!" Ethan snapped awake, eyes wide in surprise. He jumped in shock and fell off the chair, landing with a loud thud.
Ethan looked around, his face flushing with embarrassment, feeling exposed as if he were standing there naked. His heart pounded against his ribs like a drum in a storm. He could almost hear the laughter echoing around him, like everyone was mocking him. The air felt thick, and the walls seemed to inch closer, suffocating him. Each whisper felt sharp, like claws scratching at his mind, dragging his thoughts into a pit of panic.
"Come on, buddy, calm down," Sam said, trying to ease the tension. "It's lunchtime. Let's go. I've got a delicious lunch packed for both of us."
He smiled, hoping to distract Ethan from the embarrassment and lift his spirits.
"I'm sorry, I need to go to the restroom," Ethan stammered, his voice shaky. His chest tightened, and it felt like his heart was about to burst from the fear and anxiety gripping him. He could barely catch his breath. His shirt clung to his damp back, and his fingers felt ice-cold despite the warmth of the room. He quickly turned away, desperate to escape the suffocating feeling that was drowning him.
"He's weird," one of the students said, their voice dripping with attitude. "He never looks active around other people. I don't like that guy."
"Yeah, I agree," another student chimed in. "I don't think he has any emotions at all. He's like a zombie, just walking around without a care." They both chuckled, unaware of how much their words stung.
"Shut up, you guys! Stop talking behind his back! You don't even know anything about Ethan!" Sam snapped, his voice full of anger. He glared at the students, fists clenched. "You have no right to say things like that." With that, he turned and stormed out of the classroom, leaving the students in stunned silence.
Ethan sat on the roof, watching the students below. They were laughing, playing, and enjoying their time together—something he could never seem to be a part of. The breeze kissed his face, yet he barely noticed. The distant scent of freshly cooked food drifted up from the cafeteria, but his stomach remained tight with unease.
"Why can't I be normal?" he thought. "My anxiety is keeping me from living like everyone else." He paused, staring at the scene below, the fun and ease they had together, and then whispered to himself, "But... am I just making excuses?"
His thoughts turned darker as he watched them interact. "I can't even look or talk to my classmates properly. They already think I'm cold-hearted, self-centered. But... it's not their fault. If I were in their shoes, I'd probably think the same."
Ethan lowered his head, feeling a deep ache in his chest. The distance between him and the world below seemed wider than ever.
"Haaaaa," Ethan sighed, a little annoyed with himself. "I think I'll write something to calm myself down." He pulled out his small notebook and pen, something he always kept with him.
He stared at the blank page for a moment, his pen hovering above the paper. Doubts crept in. "What if it's not good enough? What if my ideas are useless?" His hand trembled slightly, and he considered putting the notebook away. But then he shook his head. "No... I'll just write. Even if it's bad, I need to try." With a deep breath, he pressed his pen to the paper and began to write.
He stared down at his notebook, the half-written page mocking him.
"I need to finish the journey of the story I've been writing, but... what could I add to make the hero more attractive?" Ethan thought deeply, tapping his pen against his chin. His gaze drifted across the rooftop, searching for inspiration.
That's when he heard it — a voice, soft yet powerful, like a flame flickering to life in the cold air.
He turned his head, drawn in by the sound. The voice swelled, gentle yet full of warmth, as if it were breathing life into everything it touched. Each note seemed to brighten the world, the sunlight feeling just a little warmer, the breeze carrying her melody like a whispered secret.
His eyes landed on her — a girl standing by the fence, her hand moving softly like a breeze stirring flower petals. Her fingers danced through the air, swaying as if she were painting her song into the sky. The leaves around her seemed to rustle in rhythm, and for a moment, Ethan forgot to breathe.
"Who is she...?"
"Wow..." Ethan whispered to himself, the word slipping out before he could stop it.
The girl's voice faded, and she turned to face him. Their eyes met — hers bright and curious.
"Did you enjoy the show?" she asked, her smile playful yet warm.
"I... uh... yeah," Ethan stammered, heat creeping up his face. "You're really good."
"Thanks," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I just like to sing when no one's around... or at least when I think no one's around."
"Sorry," Ethan mumbled, dropping his gaze. "I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine," she interrupted with a grin. "I don't mind. I'm Mira, by the way."
"Ethan," he replied quietly.
"Nice to meet you, Ethan." Her smile lingered for a moment before she added, "Next time, you should sing along."
Ethan let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah... I don't think that's a good idea."
Mira shrugged. "You never know — you might surprise yourself." With a wave, she turned and walked away, still humming softly as she disappeared down the path.
Ethan stood there for a while, staring at the spot where she'd been. The sound of her voice lingered in his mind, like a fading melody that refused to leave.
For the first time in a long while, the tightness in his chest felt... lighter.
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
"I need to hurry or else I might miss class," Ethan thought, panic rising in his chest. He grabbed his bag and took a step forward — but then stopped.
"Wait... if I go back now, everyone will think I'm weird. I left the class like a total mess... what if they're all still whispering about me?"
He groaned softly, dragging his hand down his face. His mind spiraled, replaying the awkward moment when he'd rushed out earlier.
"They're probably laughing... they probably think I'm a freak..."
For a moment, he considered skipping class altogether. The thought of walking back in, feeling every stare burn into him, twisted his stomach.
"No... I can't keep doing this."
He took a shaky breath, his fingers curling tightly around his bag strap.
"Okay... okay... I'll just go. Even if they talk, I have to go tomorrow anyway... I'm just overthinking this. I can do this."
His heart pounded as he walked to class, head down and eyes fixed on the floor. Every step felt heavy, like he was dragging his body through a storm of silent judgment.
When he finally sat down at his desk, his muscles stayed tense, like he was bracing for something bad to happen.
The teacher walked in moments later. "Alright, class, settle down," he announced. "We have a new transfer student today."
The classroom buzzed with whispers and curious glances.
"Come on in," the teacher called.
The door opened, and Ethan's breath caught.
It was her.
The girl from the rooftop — the one with the voice that felt like sunlight cutting through the clouds.
She stepped inside, her posture relaxed, her smile calm yet full of quiet confidence.
"Hi, everyone," she said brightly. "I'm Mira. Nice to meet you."
"Wow, she's pretty," someone whispered.
"She's cool," another voice added.
Ethan stared at his desk, his pulse racing. Of all the classes... why his?
"Why don't you sit next to Ethan over there?" the teacher said, pointing directly at him.
"No... no, no, no..."
Mira walked over, her footsteps light. She pulled out the chair beside him and sat down, flashing him a smile as if they were already friends.
"Hey," she said softly.
"...Hey," Ethan mumbled back, barely able to meet her eyes.
"Looks like we're classmates now." Mira grinned, her voice full of warmth. "Don't worry, I'm a fast learner... so if you fall asleep in class, I'll cover for you."
Ethan blinked in surprise, unsure whether to laugh or panic. But somehow, her presence — so easygoing and carefree — seemed to push away some of the fear twisting inside him.
For the first time since the morning, his chest felt just a little lighter.