New York City

The subway doors hissed open, and Ziek stepped in, weaving through the crowd until he found an empty seat. He slid his earbuds in, letting the music drown out the chaos around him. With a quiet sigh, he leaned back against the cold metal seat, eyes scanning the flood of passengers before drifting down to the book in his lap.

Another stop. More people.

He barely noticed someone sit beside him — just the shift of weight, the faint brush of a jacket sleeve. But when he glanced up for a split second, his gaze snapped back.

It was her.

The quiet girl from school.

Always in the back of the room, tucked into hoodies and notebooks. Never caused a scene, never said much — but Ziek had noticed her. Always noticed her.

His voice was barely above the hum of the train. “Hey,” he said, glancing sideways at her with a softness he didn’t show many people.

There was something about her. Something calm. Something real.

Something good.