It was a bright, sunny day outside.

As usual, I chose to distance myself from socializing, preferring my own company.

It wasn’t out of selfishness, but rather because I had the perspective of seeing how people often overshared, only to create unnecessary complications.

Naturally, I wanted no part of that.

So, as much as possible, I avoided befriending anyone—absolutely anyone.

Many of them seemed to wear a mask, projecting a “personality” that felt far removed from who they truly were.

Eventually, I entered the classroom and settled into my seat.

My ears caught the sound of laughter, and my eyes instinctively followed the noise until they landed on a group of friends.

Most of them were laughing—except for one particular person: you.

You, the one who seemed so genuinely innocent that even your so-called friends took advantage of it.

And yet, you acted as though it was fine, clinging to the fragile title of “friendship,” even when they clearly never regarded you as one.

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FREE TIME – 1:04

A cluster of classmates gathered nearby, close enough for me to overhear their chatter.

They were talking, laughing, and indulging in their usual games.

And, of course, you were there too—surrounded by a circle of liars.

I paused, putting down my phone, my attention drawn to you.

You looked as though you wanted to speak, yet the noise around you drowned out your voice before it could even surface.

You tried again, but one of your supposed “friends” immediately cut you off, telling you to shut up for once.

And, obediently, you fell silent.

You looked so utterly dejected—it made my chest tighten.

I don’t know why… but I couldn’t stop myself from feeling it. Could I?

I exhaled sharply in frustration.

“Hey, don’t listen to them,” I muttered, my gaze still turned away from you—for now.

“I’m all ears.”