"Hey Liam, we're going to the arcade after class. Want to join us?" Oliver asked, hopeful.
"Did he turn you down again?" George said with a crooked smile, as the boy behind Oliver scoffed. "Why do you even bother? That guy always says no. He doesn't care about anyone and barely speaks unless the teachers force him to."
"Yeah," another boy added. "It's like he thinks he's better than everyone. You invite him every day, and every day he just ignores you. Kind of rude, honestly.
Oliver didn't answer right away. He stared at the school gate and watched Liam walk down the street. After a moment, he said quietly, "He wasn't always like this. Back in middle school, we were close. He used to be laid back, always smiling and joking around. He was even the captain of our school's martial arts team. He's totally different now."
"No way. Really?" George said, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not mixing him up with someone else?" He laughed.
"That guy was the captain of the martial arts team? Come on, seriously?"
"Cut it out, George," Tom snapped. "That's not how you talk about someone, especially a classmate. Everyone has their reasons."
A pause followed. Oliver kept his eyes on the empty gate. "His oldman is a well-known martial artist, so it made sense that Liam got good at it too," he said softly. "But after the accident, he changed. I really feel sorry for him. That's why I always try to help, even if he doesn't respond."
One of the boys spoke gently, "Oliver, what happened to Liam?"
"You don't have to tell us if it's private," another added.
Oliver hesitated, then exhaled. "I'm not sure if telling you will change anything, but maybe if you knew, you'd see him differently. Right after middle school, he lost both of his parents in a car accident on the way to a martial arts tournament. Since then, he's been living with his aunt. But from what I've heard, it's not a good situation. He works part time just to cover his own expenses. He's not trying to be rude. He's just surviving." A heavy silence settled over the group.
"That's why I keep inviting him," Oliver continued. "Not because I expect him to say yes, but because maybe one day he will. We don't have to fix him. Just don't push him away.
" Tom nodded. "Yeah. Let's keep the door open. Who knows? Next time, maybe he'll walk through it."
The black haired, frail looking young man stepped into the house and turned on the lights. It was quiet; no one was home.
On the table, he found a note:
"Out for dinner."
After reading it, he crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash. He went to the refrigerator, pulled out some bread and jam, and started eating silently at the kitchen counter.
As he chewed, guilt tugged at him. I was too rude to Oliver today, he thought. He's the only person who still tries to include me. He's the only one who cares.
But Liam couldn't go to the arcade like the others. He had to work. If he skipped his part time job, he wouldn't have enough money for his expenses.
He knew his aunt and uncle didn't treat him kindly, but he didn't hate them. They had taken him in after all. His aunt, his mom's younger sister, had just gotten married when the accident happened. Taking in a grieving teenager couldn't have been easy.
They're rough on me, Liam thought, but I'm still grateful.
After dinner, he washed up and sat at his desk to study. His midterm exams were coming soon. He wasn't a genius or a top student, but he managed average grades across all subjects not great, but not bad either. He just hoped he could get a decent job after graduation.
When he finished reviewing his notes, he lay in bed and picked up his phone to read a novel, his favorite way to unwind.
Reading was his only escape. His schedule left almost no time for himself. School in the morning, part time job in the evening, then home to study. Just one or two hours a night were all he had to enjoy anything.
Novels helped him forget reality for a little while. He knew the worlds in the stories weren't real, but even knowing that, they gave him something he couldn't explain: comfort and hope.
Suddenly, a sharp pain hit his chest.
Grimacing, Liam reached for a painkiller. Maybe I should go see a doctor tomorrow, he thought. It's been a few days now. At first, I thought it was nothing, but it's getting worse.
He hadn't told his aunt. Medical bills were expensive, and he didn't want another harsh lecture about money. But he knew he couldn't ignore it much longer.
Still thinking about the pain, Liam slowly drifted off to sleep.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his chest.
"Ah!" Liam gasped, clutching at nothing. The pain grew sharper with each passing second. He tried to move his arms and legs, but nothing happened. His body wouldn't respond.
He wanted to scream, but no sound came out. The world around him faded; everything turned black.
What's happening to me? Am I dying?
His chest burned. He couldn't breathe.
No, I'm still young. I can't die here.
The pain peaked, twisting through every nerve. Then, it suddenly began to fade. Slowly, his vision started to return, blurred and trembling. He could see faint shapes and light breaking through the darkness.
He tried to move again, but something or someone was holding him down. His limbs felt heavy and strange.
Voices echoed around him, distant and muffled. He couldn't make out the words.
The pain was gone now confusion and silence took its place. He wanted to speak and ask what was happening, but no sound came from his lips.
Meanwhile, in the same room, the old nanny whispered, "*Lady Lunareth, it's a boy."(please, remember this "*" symbol means a word that Liam can't understand currently) He is strong and healthy," as she handed the newborn to his mother. For the first time, Lunareth felt the fragile warmth of her child, and her eyes filled with quiet tears.