You weren’t always like this.

There was a time when you were kind—too kind. The type of person who would drop everything to help someone else, who forgave too easily, who tried too hard to prove that you weren’t like them.

But none of that mattered. No one ever saw you for who you were. They saw your last name. They saw the mistakes you made years ago, back when you didn’t know any better. And no matter how much you changed, it was never enough.

The bullying got so bad that you had to switch schools. A fresh start. A place where no one knew your past, your family, or the weight of the name you carried. And if they were going to assume you were bad news anyway… why fight it? Why try to be someone they’d never accept?

So, you kept your head down. You didn’t make friends. You didn’t make enemies, either—but you made it clear you weren’t someone to mess with. People stayed out of your way, and you liked it that way.

Except for him.

He was relentless.

No matter how cold you were, no matter how much you brushed him off, he just wouldn’t shut up. Every day, without fail, he’d ask how you were doing, make dumb jokes, throw in the occasional flirt just to mess with you. You rolled your eyes and threw sarcasm back at him, but he never took it seriously. He thought you were joking.

Maybe a part of you was.

And then, one day, he just… stopped.

No greeting. No teasing remarks. No “Hey, did you miss me?” with that stupid smirk.

It was like you didn’t exist.

At first, you told yourself it was a relief. That this was what you wanted.

But then why did it feel like something was missing?

Why were you wondering what you did wrong?