Keifer's POV (skips after 1 week )
The day started like any other.
That was the problem.
Same gates. Same uniforms. Same careless noise echoing through the corridors. The world insisted on being normal when I knew—deep down—that normal was already slipping.
Jay Jay arrived before the bell.
I noticed because I always noticed.
She walked in calmly, bag over one shoulder, expression neutral. No hesitation. No signs of weakness. Anyone who didn't know better would think nothing had happened between us.
But I knew.
And she knew I knew.
She didn't look at me.
That silence between us wasn't accidental—it was deliberate. Strategic. The kind of distance people put up when emotions are dangerous.
In class, she actually took notes.
That caught my attention.
Jay had never been careless, but this was different. Focused. Sharp. Like she was training herself to operate on autopilot.
The teacher droned on about economics.
Futures. Markets.
I almost laughed.
Irony had a cruel sense of humor.
During group discussion, people spoke just to be heard. I spoke to dominate. Confidence came easily—too easily. It always had.
But today, I felt eyes on me.
Not admiration.
Assessment.
Ever since the seminar, something had changed. Teachers were more observant. Administration more careful. Rumors about J & 'Elvara Global floated quietly through conversations, always followed by lowered voices.
A company like that didn't watch without intention.
I hated not knowing why.
Jay sat two rows ahead, pen moving steadily. She didn't contribute. Didn't seek attention. Yet somehow, she felt central—like a fixed point everyone else orbited without realizing it.
That irritated me.
At recess, Section E gathered as usual, but something was off. The laughter felt forced. Yuri tried to lighten the mood. Aries paced.
David stayed quiet.
Jay stood apart—with Chloe, Sebastian, Mateo, and Aurora.
They weren't loud.
They didn't need to be.
They looked… aligned.
That bothered me more than hostility ever could.
At lunch, I caught fragments of conversation around me.
"…heard J & 'Elvara rejected another partnership…"
"…no one's ever seen their CEO…"
"…they move like ghosts…"
Power without a face.
It reminded me too much of my father.
Jay didn't sit in the usual place. She chose a table farther away, her group forming a quiet barrier around her. She laughed once—soft, controlled.
Not carefree.
Measured.
I realized something then.
She wasn't avoiding me because she was hurt.
She was avoiding me because she was done reacting.
That realization sat heavy in my chest.
The rest of the day passed slowly. Not because time dragged—but because every second felt loaded.
This wasn't goodbye.
But it wasn't nothing either.
As the final bell rang, students surged out, already planning evenings, weekends, distractions.
Jay packed her bag calmly.
I watched her stand.
She walked past me, close enough that our shoulders almost brushed.
I wanted to stop her.
Say something.
Anything.
But words felt useless now.
She walked on.
And I was left standing there with a single, unsettling thought:
Whatever Jay Jay was preparing for—
it wasn't small.
THE SCHOOL DAY BEFORE EVERYTHING SHIFTS
Jay's POV
The day didn't require emotion.
So I didn't give it any.
I woke early, reviewed encrypted updates, then closed everything before stepping into the role the world expected of me—student, nothing more.
School gates. Familiar noise. Predictable chaos.
Kiefer was already there.
I felt him before I saw him.
I didn't look.
Not because I was afraid.
Because eye contact gives people access—and I was done granting that.
In class, I took notes deliberately.
Not for information.
For control.
Routine anchors the mind. It keeps emotions from leaking into places they don't belong.
The teacher talked about global economics. Market stability. Leadership ethics.
I almost smiled.
If they knew.
If any of them knew how thin the line really was.
I could feel Kiefer's attention shift toward me more than once. Not staring. Watching. Calculating
He didn't understand what he was sensing.
Good.
At recess, I stood with my people.
Chloe's presence grounded me. Sebastian observed everything without reacting. Mateo cracked a quiet joke. Aurora watched the corridors like a chessboard.
"You okay?" Chloe asked softly.
"I'm steady," I replied.
And I was.
Not calm—steady.
At lunch, whispers floated around us.
J & 'Elvara Global again.
Always them.
The mysterious empire. The invisible authority.
I listened without reacting.
The irony never failed to amuse me.
Kiefer sat across the room, surrounded by noise but isolated all the same. I didn't look at him.
That wasn't punishment.
That was clarity.
The rest of the day unfolded smoothly. No confrontations. No dramatic scenes. Just the quiet tightening of threads.
By the last period, I felt it—the shift approaching.
Not an ending.
A relocation of focus.
When the bell rang, I closed my notebook carefully and stood.
Keifer was nearby.
I felt the pause in him. The hesitation.
I didn't stop.
Not because I hated him.
Because whatever came next required distance.
Outside, Eli waited.
"Schedule remains intact," she said.
"Good," I replied. "Keep everything quiet."
As we drove away, the school receded into the background.
I didn't think of it as leaving.
I thought of it as stepping aside temporarily—
while the world rearranged itself.
I would come back.
But not the same.
And neither would he.
...