I wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour.

The knock came suddenly, sharp against the quiet of my room.

It echoed louder than it should have, like it didn’t belong in the stillness.

My heart skipped.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the door, wondering if I had imagined it. No one ever came here this late. No one ever came looking for me.

Then it came again.

Knock. Knock.

Slowly, I walked to the door and opened it just a little.

“What are you doing here?”

Charles didn’t answer immediately. He just stood there, a small smile playing on his lips—like he knew something I didn’t.

Like he had been waiting for this.

Then he stepped inside, brushing past me as if he had every right to be there.

“I missed you.”

I blinked. Once. Twice.

My mind completely blanked.

“Huh?!”

He chuckled softly and poked my nose. “Gotcha.”

I frowned, trying to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks. “That’s not funny.”

“Maybe not to you,” he said lightly.

“I was hiding,” he added, glancing around my room like it belonged to him. “Kitchen duty. Long story.”

“At this hour?” I crossed my arms. “That sounds suspicious.”

“Relax,” he said, already dropping onto my bed. “I just needed somewhere to crash.”

He stretched like he had no worries in the world, like he wasn’t casually turning my entire night upside down.

“It’s okay… make yourself at home,” I muttered under my breath.

His eyes landed on the book beside me.

“Studying?” he asked, picking it up before I could stop him.

“H-hey! That’s—” I rushed forward and grabbed it. “It’s my journal.”

“You write?” He raised a brow, clearly amused. “Didn’t know that.”

“It’s personal.”

“Alright,” he said, lifting his hands slightly. “Didn’t mean to invade.”

I hugged the journal to my chest, my fingers tightening around it.

For a second, I wondered how much he had seen.

He smiled faintly, like he noticed my reaction but chose not to comment.

“Your room suits you… it’s quiet.”

I looked away. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Lemon soda, if you have it.”

I nodded quickly, grateful for the distraction, and grabbed one from my mini fridge, handing it to him.

“Thanks.”

Our fingers brushed.

Just for a second.

But it was enough.

My heart raced instantly, faster than it should have, faster than I could control.

He took a sip, completely unbothered, while I stood there trying to act normal.

And without meaning to…

I found myself staring.

The way he leaned back so comfortably. The way his hair fell slightly into his eyes. The way he looked like he didn’t care about anything—and yet somehow noticed everything.

“Hmm,” he said suddenly. “Are you staring at me?”

“N-no!”

He laughed. “Relax. I’m joking.”

“H-hey!” I threw a pillow at him, more embarrassed than annoyed.

He caught it easily, like he had expected it.

“Aww… that’s how you treat guests?”

“You should go,” I said quickly, turning away so he wouldn’t see my face.

“Or…” He leaned closer.

Too close.

Close enough that I could feel the shift in the air, the way everything suddenly became quieter, heavier.

“…I could stay.”

My breath caught.

“Charles…”

But he didn’t stop.

For once, he wasn’t teasing.

His eyes softened, and something in them changed—something I couldn’t quite understand, but couldn’t look away from either.

The space between us disappeared slowly… dangerously.

My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

Every second stretched longer than it should have.

And for a moment—

I didn’t want him to stop.

Then—

The door burst open.

“Warren! You’re the head cook, remember?!”

The sudden noise shattered everything.

We both froze.

Charles clicked his tongue and leaned back, clearly annoyed.

“Floyd,” he muttered.

I sat there, still frozen, my heart refusing to slow down, my thoughts tangled in something I didn’t know how to name.

Nothing felt the same anymore.

That night…

everything started to change.

Hi… thanks for picking up this book.

I’m not really sure how to start this, but… I’m glad you’re here.

If I tell you everything now, that would ruin the story, right?

So let’s take it slowly.

Oh—and maybe, after each chapter, you could tell me what you think.

That would mean a lot.

…

My name is Lily.

I’m twenty years old.

Pisces. Born February 27th.

And apparently…

I bring bad luck to people.

Both my parents died on the same day.

It wasn’t just tragic—it was sudden, inexplicable, like the world had snapped a finger and my life changed forever.

After that, things just kept going wrong.

People leaving. People avoiding me. Whispering. Judging. Pretending I wasn’t there.

So tell me—

Would you stay close to someone like that?

…

I grew up in an orphanage.

I watched other kids get picked. Chosen. Loved.

Over and over again. Birthday parties, weekend trips, families who came to meet them and smiled as if they’d been waiting their whole lives.

But no one ever chose me.

At some point, you stop hoping.

You just… exist.

I had this strange way of coping.

I imagined people differently.

Everyone had a perfect, glowing circle in their eyes.

Everyone… except me.

Mine looked like a star.

Funny, right? Something that looked beautiful…

was the very thing that made me an outcast.

Some nights, I would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering why the universe thought it was okay to make me different.

Why did it choose me to be the one who didn’t fit in?

I couldn’t stop imagining what it would feel like to be like everyone else. Invisible, maybe—but normal.

…

Then, on my 18th birthday—everything changed.

An organization came for me.

Not just me… but people like me. People who didn’t belong.

“Outcasts,” they called us.

At first, I didn’t want to go.

I was scared, uncertain, clinging to the only life I’d ever known.

But staying hurt more than leaving ever could.

So I left.

…

And that’s how I ended up here.

A place that’s part school, part college… part something else entirely.

Everything you need is here. Classes. Dorms. Cafeterias.

It’s like a whole country built for people like us.

Sounds perfect, doesn’t it?

Yeah…

That’s what I thought too.

…

My first year wasn’t so bad.

I focused on my studies. Stayed quiet. Kept my head down.

I even won awards. Small victories, but they felt like proof that maybe, just maybe, I could belong.

For a while, I thought maybe… I had finally found my place.

I was wrong.

People here may be outcasts…

but that doesn’t mean they’re kind.

Groups formed. Circles closed. Secrets whispered. Alliances made and broken.

And somehow—I became invisible all over again.

So I kept to myself.

Only leaving my room for classes, for food… and nothing else.

It was easier that way. Safer.

I decorated my room with small things that made it mine—posters, a few plants, a tiny jar of stars I’d painted myself.

Even those small comforts weren’t enough to make the world outside my door feel welcoming.

I watched the other students from afar, laughing in groups, forming bonds I could only imagine having.

…

Until him.

Until him.

Charles Warren.

If I’m being honest…

I didn’t notice him at first.

Not because he was invisible—no.

It was the opposite.

Everyone noticed him.

He had this way of walking into a room like he belonged everywhere… like the world adjusted itself for him.

And people let it.

Girls liked him.

Guys respected him.

Even the teachers didn’t bother him much.

And me?

I stayed out of his way.

Or at least… I tried to.

…

The first time he spoke to me, I thought he got the wrong person.

“Hey.”

I looked behind me.

No one.

“Yeah, you.”

I blinked, pointing at myself. “Me?”

He laughed softly. “Do you see anyone else?”

I frowned. “What do you want?”

“Ouch,” he said, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “That’s how you talk to someone trying to be nice?”

“I’m not used to people ‘being nice’ for no reason,” I replied.

That seemed to amuse him.

“Charles,” he said, holding out his hand.

I stared at it for a second before reluctantly shaking it.

“Lily.”

“I know.”

That made me pause.

“You… know?”

“Hard not to,” he shrugged. “Top student. Quiet. Always alone.”

I pulled my hand back. “You’ve been observing me?”

“Maybe,” he said with a smirk.

I turned away. “That’s weird.”

“Or maybe…” he stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly,

“I’m just interested.”

My heart skipped.

And I hated that it did.

…

From that moment on…

He didn’t leave me alone.

At first, it was small things.

A seat taken beside me in class.

A casual “Hey, Lily” like we’d known each other for years.

The way he’d glance at me like he was trying to figure something out.

It was annoying.

Unnecessary.

Dangerous.

…

“Why do you sit alone all the time?”

I didn’t look up from my notebook. “Because I want to.”

“Or because no one sits with you?”

I paused.

“…Same thing.”

He hummed, unconvinced.

“I don’t believe that.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was some kind of experiment.

“You know,” he said, “people here are weird.”

“That’s the point,” I replied flatly. “It’s literally a school for outcasts.”

“Yeah… but even outcasts have groups.”

I didn’t respond.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

…

Lunch was worse.

I had just found my usual corner when—

“Move.”

I looked up.

Charles dropped his tray in front of me and sat down like it was already decided.

“You’re in my seat,” I said.

“No, I’m in our seat.”

“There is no ‘our.’”

“There is now.”

I sighed. “You’re exhausting.”

“And you’re interesting,” he shot back.

That again.

Interesting.

Like I was something to study… not someone to understand.

…

“You should stop following me.”

“I’m not following you.”

“You’re literally sitting in front of me.”

“Coincidence.”

I gave him a look.

He grinned.

“Okay, not a coincidence.”

…

Before I could respond, the cafeteria suddenly went quiet.

Not completely.

Just… enough to feel wrong.

I frowned slightly.

“Do you feel that?” I asked.

Charles didn’t answer immediately.

His expression changed—just for a second.

Like he noticed it too.

Then—

Everything went back to normal.

Noise. Voices. Movement.

Like nothing happened.

“…Weird,” I muttered.

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

But he wasn’t looking around like everyone else.

He was looking at me.