Monday, 7:30 A.M.
The sunlight pierced through my curtains like a blade, scattering across the walls of my room in sharp golden streaks. Dust motes drifted lazily in the glow, tiny particles dancing in the air like they had all the time in the world, unlike me. The warmth pressed against my skin, and the brightness seemed to crawl past my eyelids until it felt like the light was stabbing directly into my skull.
I groaned, turning over and yanking the blanket higher over my head. "Euh… damn it, that's too bright," I muttered, my voice muffled by the pillow. The sheets were tangled around my legs, sticky with sweat from the humid summer night. A faint breeze slipped in through the tiny gap in the curtains, carrying the faint smell of dew-wet grass and the distant exhaust of early commuters' cars.
Just as I was on the edge of drifting back into unconsciousness, the peace shattered. Footsteps—four light taps, rapid, deliberate—echoed across the wooden hallway outside my door. A rhythm I knew all too well. My ears tensed before my brain even processed it.
Then, her voice.
"Big brother! Breakfast is ready! Time for school!"
Nellie. My little sister. Seven years old, small as a sparrow, but loud enough to put an air raid siren to shame. Cute? Sure—her brown pigtails and oversized pajamas gave her that cartoonish sort of charm that strangers gawked at. But for me? At this hour? She was nothing short of an alarm clock with lungs.
I buried my head deeper into the pillow, my words muffled and heavy with irritation. "Just… leave me alone. I don't wanna go to school."
But Nellie wasn't the type to back down. Not when she'd already decided on something.
"But you promised you'd walk me today!" Her voice cracked, halfway between pleading and pouting, dragging each word like it weighed a ton. "You prooooomised!"
I clenched my jaw, hoping silence would make her go away. Wrong move.
Her tone pitched higher, sharp enough to pierce straight through the door.
"WALK ME TO SCHOOL OR I'M TELLING MOM!"
The shriek rattled through the walls, making the picture frame above my desk tremble. I shot upright with a long, suffering sigh, rubbing a palm down my face. "Fine… I'll take you. Just—get out already."
---
A few sluggish minutes later, after dragging on my uniform—a blazer that smelled faintly of detergent and summer heat baked into the fabric—I stepped into the hall. My tie hung loose around my neck, and my hair was still a mess, sticking up in stubborn tufts.
"Nellie, hurry up!" I barked, my voice echoing down the hallway. "You're the one rushing me, but you're not even at the door."
I heard a frantic patter of feet and the clatter of something falling in her room. A drawer slamming. A bag zipper yanked shut. Then, she came skidding into the hall, nearly tripping over the carpet. Her cheeks were flushed, strands of hair sticking out of her hastily tied pigtails.
"Sorry! I was doing my makeup!" she declared breathlessly, clutching her tiny backpack like it was a shield.
I froze mid-step, staring at her. "…Makeup? At seven years old?"
She blinked innocently, as though I'd asked the dumbest question on earth. "Yeah! Just lip gloss. Don't look at me like that!"
Unbelievable. My little sister was already sprinting down the track to adulthood, while I could barely drag myself out of bed in the morning. Girls these days were trying too hard to grow up fast. I dragged my hand down my face in disbelief.
"Whatever," I muttered, shaking my head. "Let's just go. You didn't forget anything, right?"
Her chest puffed out proudly. "I checked twice! I've got everything, big brother!"
I narrowed my eyes. "Stop calling me that. Just use my name."
The change was instant. Her shoulders dropped, eyes flicking to the floor, her voice shrinking. "…Sorry, Niklas."
The guilt pricked me before I could stop it. I reached out, my hand landing on her head, ruffling her messy hair. "Don't worry about it. Everyone slips up sometimes."
"Ow! That hurts! Stop it already!" she whined, stomping her foot, cheeks puffing out like a squirrel.
I smirked, pulling my hand back. "Alright, alright. Let's go."
---
After the short walk, I left Nellie at her elementary school gates. She waved at me with both arms, grinning wide enough to split her face in two, and then darted off into the crowd of uniformed kids. For all her noise, she blended in the second she stepped among them, just another little body swallowed by the swarm of children.
I sighed, tightening my grip on the strap of my own bag before breaking into a jog toward my school. The air was thick, humid, making every breath feel heavier. My chest burned with each step, sweat prickling at the back of my neck as I pushed myself faster.
If only my parents weren't so damn stingy. If they weren't so obsessed with treating me like a kid, I'd already be driving by now. I'd aced those driving lessons with a private instructor, memorized every damn rule in the book. But nooo—"Niklas, you're not mature enough." "Niklas, responsibility comes first." What a joke.
Still, luck was on my side. Just as the school gates creaked shut, I slid through, bent over and gasping. "I made it," I muttered, sweat dripping down my temple.
The second I stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The halls weren't loud—not in the way Nellie was—but the silence carried weight. Eyes flicked toward me, then darted away as if burned. Whispered voices coiled like snakes around my ears, hushed but calculated to make sure I heard.
"That's him…"
"…Niklas again…"
"Did you hear what they said about his family?"
The words blurred together, a constant undertone, meaningless yet sharp enough to dig beneath my skin. Lies. Rumors. Petty gossip about things they didn't even understand.
My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms. This was the rhythm of this place—whispers, stares, and poison behind every polite smile.
This is why I hated them. Every last one of these pests.
Especially him.
"Yooo! What's up, man? Just a couple more seconds and you would've been late—but lucky for you, you made it right on time! So, how are you on this beautiful, wonderful Fridaaaaay?"
His voice carried down the hall like a song, cheerful and exaggerated. A few students laughed, others rolled their eyes, but no one could ignore him.
This is why I hate this guy. Always smiling, always cheerful—like life's one long joke. I've never seen him sad. Not once.
"What do you want from me?" I snapped. "You keep acting like we're friends, but we're not. We've never been friends."
He gasped so loud a few kids turned their heads. "Huuuhhh? What are you talking about? We've been friends forever! I've known you since childhood—don't you remember?"
His grin widened, almost too wide, as if it might crack his face.
Then he laughed again, brushing it off. "Ah, whatever. Too early for this kinda talk anyway."
The bell screamed through the building.
"Oh well! Guess I'll see you at lunch!" he shouted, already dashing off.
His foot slipped, and he crashed against the floor with a loud thud. A few people snickered.
"…Ow," he muttered, his voice flat for just a heartbeat—then he popped right back up, grinning like nothing happened, sprinting away down the hall.