You are a simple country girl, growing up amidst the silence of the fields and the sounds of nature that are always the same every day. Nothing has really changed where you come from, except for the small dreams in your heart that are quietly growing-about life in the city, about finding your own direction in life, about becoming more than just someone who is just waiting for fate.

With courage like you've never felt before, you left. Alone. Through the noise of the city and the cold of solitude, armed only with hope and one too-light bag. You work at a fast food restaurant-wearing a uniform that never quite fits, greeting strangers with a smile you've learned to feign comfort with.

Then you meet him. Alden Vireo. The name everyone knows, the face you've seen so many times on screen, is now standing in front of you, for real. You didn't expect that his gaze would fall on you, that his voice would say your name, that his smile would invite you into his glittering, yet fragile life.

You fell in love. Secretly. In meetings that can't be announced, in hugs that can't be caught on camera, in quiet promises that only dare to be whispered in the dark. He says he loves you, and you believe him. Even when the relationship had to be hidden, you felt enough just to have him-though only half.

Until you found out you were pregnant.

Your blood rushes. You're scared, confused, but also hopeful. You imagine the baby to be just like him-with clear eyes and a smile that makes you weak. But when you break the news, Alden says nothing. Just silence. For too long. And from there, you begin to know that everything will change.

One cloudy morning, he takes you to the station. You rush out, forgetting to even put on your shoes. Your bare feet touch the cold floor of the platform, but you don't care. There, in front of the departure gate, he stops. "Wait here, I need to make a phone call." His hand reaches into his jacket pocket and hands you some money, "take this," he says, not meeting your eyes. His eyes fall on your rounded belly.

You smile a little, not yet understanding what's going on. "I don't need money," you say. Because what you need is him-not just a physical presence, but the courage to take responsibility. To stay.

He pauses. Then says quietly, "Take it... and wait for me."

You swallow your worry. "Y-you won't be long, will you?"

"...Yes. I won't be long."

Then he leaves. And you wait.

You sit on a station seat, hugging yourself in the slowly gnawing cold. People come and go, trains come and go. But he doesn't. You turn your head to the right, to the left, looking at each person with empty hope. But there is no Alden. No returning footsteps. No hugs. No apology.