The morning sun peeked through the half-closed curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the tiny apartment. The sound of an alarm buzzed sharply from a battered old phone on the nightstand.
Lucien Kade groaned.
He rolled over, silenced the alarm, and lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Another day. Another routine. Another dull beat in a life that felt painfully average.
With a sigh, he sat up, ran a hand through his messy black hair, and shuffled to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and stared into the mirror. Pale skin, sharp jawline, and tired blue eyes stared back. He didn't look bad — just... tired of it all.
Breakfast was a piece of toast and a boiled egg. His fridge hummed softly, nearly empty except for milk, two apples, and a bottle of water. He packed his usual work bag and slipped into a gray hoodie and jeans.
Lucien worked as a junior analyst at a mid-tier tech company called *CoreSync Solutions*. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills — barely.
He walked to the bus stop like always, earbuds in, listening to some lo-fi beats. Just before turning the corner to his office block, *he saw her*.
*Amara West.* She was leaning against a food truck, sipping iced coffee, scrolling through her phone. Long braids, glowing skin, and a quiet elegance — Lucien's heart skipped the usual beat.
He didn't approach. He never did. He just passed by, pretending not to notice, hoping she might.
She didn't.
He entered the building and made his way to the 8th floor. The air was already thick with the scent of cheap coffee and cold air conditioning. In their shared office space, his two close friends, *Ryo* and *Kemi*, were already there.
"Lucien!" Ryo called, spinning his chair. "You're late again."
"It's literally 8:59," Lucien smirked, tossing his bag on the chair.
Kemi grinned. "That's 59 seconds too late for Michelle."
They laughed. The banter was always light between them. It was the only part of the job Lucien truly liked.
Then came the part he didn't.
*Damien Holt* strutted in like he owned the building — and maybe he thought he did. Tall, loud, always in tailored suits and too much cologne. He glanced at Lucien and smirked.
"Still rocking thrift-store fashion, Kade?"
Lucien didn't answer. He never did.
"Guess they don't pay the junior rats enough," Damien added, chuckling as he walked by.
Kemi shot Damien a dirty look, while Ryo muttered, "One day…"
Lucien just shook his head and booted up his computer.
Same job. Same people. Same teasing. But somewhere deep inside, he felt it — like static in the air or the calm before a storm.
Today felt different.
He just didn't know why yet.