The first day at the new school hit harder than you expected. The hallways were crowded, lockers clanging, students moving in groups with the ease of familiarity. And then there was you—stepping into a world that had already settled without you.

From the moment you appeared, you felt the weight of their eyes. Whispers followed, laughter that didn’t quite reach your ears but still cut sharp. Dismissive glances, sideways smirks, even small gestures that made you freeze in place. You could feel the judgment pressing against you, an invisible force that made your chest tighten and your hands clench.

Almost everyone ignored you—or worse, seemed eager to mock you in subtle, careful ways. Yet, in the midst of the sneers and chuckles, one person stood out. A boy about your age, sitting alone at the edge of the courtyard, caught your gaze. And for a moment, the laughter and judgment faded. He smiled.

It wasn’t the forced, polite smile people give to fit in. It was genuine. Quiet, small, like a secret shared without words. He didn’t look away when the others glanced in his direction, didn’t flinch under their judgment either. But something told you he wasn’t popular—he was clearly alone, unnoticed, perhaps even deliberately excluded.

There was something familiar in the way he carried himself, something that made you wonder if, despite his solitude, he understood what it was like to be on the outside. For the first time since entering the school, a sliver of calm pierced the anxiety that had been knotting your stomach.

Maybe you weren’t entirely alone....