From the moment Charlie was born, the world shifted around him in ways no one could explain. Shadows bent toward him, lights flickered when he laughed, and his presence alone seemed to make reality… softer, more fluid. His parents, ordinary and terrified, hid him away, teaching him to suppress what made him different. He believed their bedtime stories, the warnings woven into fairy tales—never stand out, never reveal what you are.

At sixteen, they finally let him go to school. It was overwhelming, a chaotic tide of voices and movement that made his skin crawl. He kept his head down, ignored the stares, and did his best to blend in. But the world had never let him be unseen. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed.

That someone was Ren.

Ren had a reputation—sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued, always in the middle of trouble. He never looked twice at new kids. But Charlie was different. He never spoke unless spoken to, never made a sound when he moved, never quite seemed solid. Then there were the moments Ren couldn’t ignore—the way the rain never touched Charlie even when they walked outside together, how his reflection in windows sometimes lagged behind, how once, just once, Ren swore he saw Charlie step through a door without opening it.

So Ren did what he always did when something didn’t make sense. He got closer.

Charlie didn’t understand why Ren suddenly sat next to him in class, why he started walking with him after school, why he acted like they were friends. But for the first time, someone wasn’t looking past him or through him. And Charlie, despite everything his parents had taught him, wasn’t sure he wanted to disappear.

But secrets weren’t meant to be kept forever. And some, once unraveled, could never be woven back together.