The Weight of Time
The chandeliers still shimmered in Adrian's mind long after the gala ended. Laughter, applause, the endless clicking of cameras—it was all the same noise that had haunted him for four years. Yet this time, something was different.
Her.
That girl had appeared again, slipping into his world as though fate itself was determined to press her into his life. The stubborn tilt of her chin, the refusal to lower her gaze—Maya. Even when hidden behind a server's uniform, she had stood out in his eyes, like a single star in a city sky.
But Adrian Cole could not afford distractions. Not now.
---
At the Cole estate, silence held weight. The house itself was a fortress of wealth, its halls filled with marble and oil paintings, every inch screaming of power and legacy.
Adrian stood in the grand drawing room, the familiar chill of his mother's presence pressing against his skin. Helena Cole was as regal as the portraits behind her, her posture straight, her features carved in ice.
"I saw the reports," Helena said, her voice cutting through the air. "That girl is becoming a stain on your name. A servant parading herself in public, humiliating you, and by extension, us."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "It's being handled."
Her lips curved in disdain. "Handled? If it were handled, we would not be seeing her face splashed across every tabloid. You've always been too soft, Adrian. Too forgiving. That girl will drag you down if you let her."
Adrian's fists curled at his sides. "She doesn't matter."
Helena's sharp eyes narrowed. "Everything matters. You've had your rebellion, your fantasy. But you cannot forget—one year remains."
The words landed like a blow.
One year.
Adrian remembered the night of his eighteenth birthday. The long dining table, the cold stares of his parents, the suffocating future laid before him: boardrooms, deals, a life without music.
"No," he had said back then, his voice trembling but firm. "I won't live my life in chains. I want to sing. I want music."
His father had slammed a hand against the table. His mother's fury had lit the room. But Adrian had not wavered. He had walked out that night, abandoning wealth and inheritance for a dream no one believed in.
No one but Lila.
Her small hands had gripped his, her eyes wide with determination. "I'll help you. You don't have to do it alone."
She had given him shelter when his family shut him out, had lent him money when his savings ran dry, had stood by him when the industry slammed its doors. Sweet, gentle Lila—the only ally in a war he had chosen to fight.
And in return, Adrian had made the promise.
Five years.
Five years to prove he could succeed. If he failed, he would walk back into the cage his parents had built.
Now, only one year remained.
---
Maya knew nothing of promises or golden cages.
Her life was built on smaller burdens, quieter sacrifices.
At home, her siblings waited for her in their cramped apartment. The faint hum of the old refrigerator filled the silence, her father's cough echoed from the bedroom, and the peeling wallpaper reminded her of everything they lacked.
"Maya," Leo tugged at her sleeve as soon as she stepped inside. His eyes, wide and trusting, searched her face. "I saw you on TV again. They called you names. Why are they so mean?"
Maya crouched, brushing his hair back gently. "Don't listen to them, Leo. They don't know me."
Clara, older than Leo but still too young to carry such heavy eyes, spoke from the couch. "Mom said you should stop. She's scared. She doesn't want you to get hurt."
Maya swallowed. Her mother's exhaustion was a shadow in the apartment, her father's silence another weight. She forced a smile for her siblings' sake. "I won't get hurt. I promise."
Later, in her room, she pulled out her sketches. Dresses, suits, patterns scribbled in fading pencil filled the table. She ran her hands across the lines, imagining fabric that shimmered, imagining her name whispered not as an insult but as a brand.
Her dream of being a designer burned bright. But her reality—bills, her father's medicine, rent—kept her trapped. The catering job had been another small step, another way to inch closer to the world she longed to belong to.
And at the center of it all was Adrian.
Not just a star, not just an idol. He was her impossible dream. The music that had soothed her through nights of hunger and despair. The reason she believed she could still reach for something more.
---
Adrian sat in his studio later that night, staring at the sheet music in front of him. Notes blurred together, melodies refused to take shape. He pressed his hands to the keys, but the music felt empty.
Her face intruded again—Maya's eyes, clear and unbroken despite the cruelty of the world.
"Why won't you disappear?" he muttered to the silence.
His phone buzzed. Lila's name lit the screen.
He answered, and her voice spilled through, sweet and warm. "Adrian! Did the gala go well? I saw the photos. You looked so handsome."
His lips softened into a faint smile. "It went fine."
She tilted her head on screen, pouting cutely. "You sound tired. Are you working too hard again?"
"I'm fine."
"Promise you'll rest? For me?" Her eyes sparkled with that same innocence that had once been his lifeline.
"I promise," Adrian said softly.
When the call ended, he leaned back, closing his eyes. Lila had always been there, constant, dependable. She was the one who had believed when no one else did.
And yet…
It was another woman's defiance that haunted him.
---
The world outside Adrian's glittering halls had no patience for dreamers like Maya.
At the boutique where she occasionally sold designs, the owner, Mrs. Ramos, eyed her sketches with a sigh. "Your ideas are bold, Maya, but clients want safe, predictable pieces. Simple dresses. Affordable. We can't risk on something untested."
Maya bowed her head. "I understand."
Still, she tucked the sketches into her bag, refusing to throw them away. Someday, someone would see them. Someone would believe.
As she left, her phone buzzed with a message from Tessa:
You're reckless. One day you'll regret chasing him.
Maya stared at the words, her lips tightening. Maybe she was reckless. Maybe she was chasing an impossible dream.
But her life had never been about playing safe.
She had siblings who needed her, parents who had given everything. And she had a heart that refused to settle for less than the impossible.
---
At the Cole estate, Helena watched her son from a distance, her eyes cold.
"You think music will save you," she murmured, though Adrian couldn't hear. "But when your time is up, you will return. And that girl—whoever she is—will never set foot in this family's world."
Adrian, seated at the piano, pressed a chord that rang through the hall like defiance.
One year.
That was all he had left.
And somewhere in the city, Maya stitched fabric under dim light, her hands raw but steady, her heart set on a dream that would collide with his.
Neither of them knew how cruel the clock could be.
But both of them were running toward it.
---