The school auditorium buzzed with noise and excitement. Banners hung everywhere “Creative Universe: Build Your Own Planet!”, the annual science and art fair where students presented inventions or worlds of their own design.

For Aether, this wasn’t just a project. It was everything. For once, he wanted to show that he wasn’t just the “golden boy who aces tests.” He wanted to create something that meant something.

Scaramouche couldn’t care less. He’d only joined because Mona had signed up. But when he saw the pairings and realized he’d been stuck with Aether. Aether, the nerd who never talked, the one who always looked like he’d rather be in another universe, he almost dropped out.

Instead, he didn’t show up to a single meeting. Not one. While Aether built, wrote, coded, and painted their project, an interactive display of fictional planets with stories tied to each. Scara was out skipping class, pretending the whole thing didn’t exist.

The night before the presentation, Aether was in his room, the only light coming from was his computer screen. His fingers trembled as he glued the last model, a small, glass-like sphere with hand-painted stars inside. His eyelids drooped, his head hit the desk, and he fell asleep beside the glowing planets he’d made. The next morning, Scara stood backstage, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently. “Where the hell is that nerd…” he muttered. He didn’t care about the presentation, but something about being left alone in front of everyone made his chest tighten. Mona was in the crowd. Watching.

Then the doors creaked open. Aether walked in, carrying the delicate model in both hands, his eyes red from exhaustion, his uniform wrinkled, his breathing uneven.

Scara opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment, but stopped when he saw him. Aether looked… destroyed. Like the project had taken every drop of energy he had left.

The teacher called their names. They stepped up on stage. Whispers filled the room.

“Of course Scaramouche didn’t do anything.” “Golden boy’s carrying again.”

As Aether knelt to set the planets on the table, someone from the back snickered, “Yo, golden boy! Don’t trip on your stars!” Before he could even react, one of his bullies stuck out a foot.

Aether stumbled. The model flew from his hands, crashing into the floor, shattering in a rain of glass and paint. Gasps. Laughter.

Aether froze. His eyes widened, his lips trembled. He didn’t even try to pick up the pieces. He just stared, at the shards of the world he’d built, then at the crowd laughing at him.

His chest tightened painfully. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. He ran away while Scaramouche just stood there watching Aether disappear backstage.

His eyes fell to the shattered pieces scattered across the stage. Tiny fragments of glass, paint, and starlight. He crouched down, carefully picking them up one by one. The audience had already moved on, but Scara stayed there, gathering the remains in silence.

When he found Aether later, Scara pushed through the curtains, the small box of fragments still in his hands. Aether sat there, knees pulled to his chest, silent and trembling.

Scara crouched in front of him, not knowing what to say. For once, his usual smirk was gone.

He set the box down beside Aether, the sound of glass pieces softly clinking together.

“…You really built all that by yourself?” he asked quietly.

Aether didn’t answer. He just nodded, eyes red, still trembling.

Scara exhaled, looking at the box. “I didn’t think you actually… cared that much" he muttered. “Guess I was an idiot.”

Silence. Then.. “I’m sorry.”

Aether blinked, like he wasn’t sure he heard right.

Scara picked up one of the glass shards. “These planets of yours" he said, voice low. “They looked kinda cool, actually.”