The campus had quieted under a silver sheet of moonlight. Leaves rustled against the pathways, the faint hum of distant traffic blending with the chorus of unseen crickets. For most students, it was a night of rest. For eight individuals, it was the stirring of something else—something that tasted like storms yet to come.
In her small room, Aira sat with her back pressed against the cold windowpane. The glass vibrated faintly with the city below—lights flashing, car horns echoing, laughter drifting up from streets she no longer walked. The city was alive. She, however, felt nothing but the hollowness pressing on her chest.
Her reflection stared back at her. Blank eyes. An expression carved from stone. Not a single crack visible to the world.
Her lips parted in the faintest whisper, words more breath than sound."Do I… even deserve friends?"
Her fingers curled, brushing over the pale scars that trailed her hands—delicate lines that told a violent story. Her face did not shift, but in the stillness of her room, the weight of old wounds screamed.
She pressed her head back against the window, closing her eyes. Another whisper slipped past, this time hollow, as if pulled from the depths of a memory she could never erase."They say they want to be friends. Why now? Why me? Is this another betrayal waiting in disguise?"
Her eyes opened slowly, darker than before, a shadow swallowing what little light remained. Once, she had smiled at warmth. Once, she had believed love could heal. But love had burned her, and its flames had left her charred and cold.
Silence filled the room. Her silence. Her curse.
Elsewhere, in a private lounge so lavish it gleamed, the seven gathered. Golden chandeliers spilled warm light across velvet couches, crystal glasses lined the table, untouched drinks reflecting fractured rainbows. It was a world of privilege, of indulgence—and yet their conversation was about a girl who didn't belong there.
Valentina leaned forward, crossing her long legs, her voice slicing through the hush. "She's… weird. Not in a bad way. Just—like she's locked behind glass. Emotionally unreachable."
Bianca blew a strand of hair from her face, tapping her nails against the glass she held. "Cold as hell. But her eyes? They've seen something. I don't think she's heartless. I think her heart's been crushed."
Kai leaned back, his grin softer now, almost thoughtful. "I've seen confident girls. Ice queens, even. But her? She's… different. Like nothing can touch her anymore."
The group fell into a quiet ripple until Ivy, hesitant but honest, added, "I noticed the way she looked at her food. Calculated. Every bite. Like even eating was… a duty."
Rei's gaze lowered, remembering what he'd seen. "Her hands. Did you notice? The scars. She hides them, but they're there. Small. Faint. But real."
Damian's deep voice rumbled. "Self-inflicted or survival?"
Rei didn't hesitate. "Survival. No doubt. That girl's walked through fire."
Zane smirked faintly, his eyes catching the chandelier's light. "Ice that survived fire. Interesting."
Valentina rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched. "You always say the weirdest things, Zane."
Kai cut in before Zane could respond, his voice unusually serious. "None of you are really seeing it. She doesn't waste words. Every syllable she speaks is sharp, controlled. Her silence isn't weakness. It's strategy."
Bianca leaned closer, her tone edged with curiosity. "You think she's dangerous?"
Zane leaned forward now, his voice low, calm. "I think she's powerful. And in pain. But yes—dangerous. Not to us. To herself, maybe."
The air thickened. Their laughter had gone, their usual confidence tempered into something quieter. Even for them—the rich, the feared, the untouchable—there was something about Aira that unsettled their rhythm.
"Should we… actually be her friends?" Kai asked, uncharacteristically unsure.
Ivy fiddled with her bracelet. "She doesn't seem like someone who needs friends."
Rei, softer, answered, "Maybe she does. She just doesn't know how to ask for it."
Zane's voice cut through once more. "Or maybe she's afraid. Afraid we'll do what everyone else did. Abandon her. Break her."
A hush fell. Their glances met across the lounge. None of them spoke further, but the silence said enough. For the first time, all of them—rich, powerful, untouchable—sat quiet because of one girl.
Because of Aira.
Back in her room, Aira turned away from the window. The city lights disappeared from her eyes, leaving only shadows. Her voice slipped into the darkness, soft and cold."If they knew what I've survived… would they still want to stay?"
Her heart didn't race. Her hands didn't tremble. She looked calm—always calm.
But her soul was restless, questioning. Waiting.
The world was beginning to notice Aira Brown. But none of them—not the city, not the school, not even the seven who dared sit at her table—understood.
Behind her stillness, behind her blank stare, something was stirring.
A storm.And once it broke free, it would consume everything.