Morning sunlight spilled lazily across the cracked pavement outside the student apartments.
Not every part of Kelvora glittered like the business district.
Here, the buildings were older. Paint peeled from the walls. Laundry lines hung between balconies. The elevators worked only half the time.
This was the Kelvora most people pretended didn't exist.
And this was where Lior lived.
A tiny third-floor apartment with thin walls and a window that rattled whenever the trains passed.
His alarm rang at six.
He groaned and smacked it off.
For a moment, he just lay there staring at the ceiling fan that rotated too slowly to be useful.
"…Five more minutes," he mumbled.
But he already knew he couldn't.
Part-time shift at the café before class.
Scholarship didn't cover everything.
Rent didn't pay itself.
Kelvora wasn't kind to people without money.
Especially not Omegas.
The café on Maple Street smelled like roasted beans and burnt toast.
"Late again," a voice called out.
"I'm two minutes early," Lior argued.
"Two minutes late in spirit," the girl behind the counter shot back.
Mireo.
Short hair. Big hoodie. Permanent smirk.
Third-year student. His coworker. Self-appointed life commentator.
She tossed him an apron.
"Table three keeps asking for you."
"Why?"
"Because you smile at customers like they're the only person in the world. It's illegal."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
He ignored her and grabbed the tray.
But he noticed it again.
The stares.
Always the stares.
Customers glancing too long.
An Alpha man sniffing the air unconsciously.
Someone whispering, "Is he an Omega?"
Lior kept his expression calm.
Pretended not to hear.
Pretended not to care.
But inside—
it was exhausting.
Being noticed all the time.
Being wanted for reasons that had nothing to do with who he was.
Sometimes he wished he were just… ordinary.
Just another Beta.
Just someone people forgot.
By the time he reached college, the campus was already loud.
"Lior!"
He didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Only one person said his name like that — warm, soft, like it mattered.
Alaric.
Running toward him with messy silver hair and a half-buttoned cardigan.
"You didn't text me," Alaric said, slightly out of breath.
"I was working."
"You work too much."
"You worry too much."
They fell into step together naturally.
Like they'd done it a hundred times before.
Because they had.
Alaric always carried two things:
A sketchbook.
And snacks.
He handed Lior a small wrapped pastry.
"You forgot breakfast again, didn't you?"
"…maybe."
"I knew it."
Lior smiled despite himself.
Alaric was like that.
Quietly taking care of everyone.
Even when no one took care of him.
As they passed a group of rich students near the fountain, voices dropped.
Not about Lior this time.
About Alaric.
"Isn't that Vale's brother?"
"Yeah… the Omega one."
"Oh…"
That soft "oh."
The kind that meant pity.
Or worse.
Disappointment.
Lior saw Alaric's shoulders stiffen slightly.
Just slightly.
Like he was used to it.
Like it still hurt anyway.
"You okay?" Lior asked gently.
Alaric smiled.
Too quickly.
"I'm fine. I'm used to it."
Used to it.
Lior hated those words.
Because no one should get used to being unwanted.