EPISODE 3 — “Why Are You Protecting Me?”

The last bell rang like a crack of thunder through the empty halls.

Most students rushed out laughing, talking, bumping into each other without care. Aira Noor walked slowly, her footsteps light, as if she was afraid to make noise in a place that felt too loud for her existence.

She clutched the strap of her bag tightly.

Her fingers were cold.

Her chest was tight.

Every corner felt unfamiliar.

Every shadow felt like it was watching.

She couldn’t forget his voice.

“Stay invisible.”

“My name is Rayan.”

Why did he care?

Why was he warning her?

Her phone vibrated softly in her palm.

A message appeared.

Unknown Contact:

You looked like you might faint today.

Her heartbeat stuttered.

Was it him?

Her fingers hovered above the screen, unsure, afraid, curious all at once. Her mind filled with questions she had no answers to.

Why would someone like him… notice someone like me?

She typed back slowly.

Why do you care?

The three dots appeared almost instantly.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Reply:

I don’t.

Aira frowned.

That was a lie.

She could feel it.

She reached her locker, her hands shaking slightly. The hallway was mostly empty now, only the sound of distant voices and the buzz of fluorescent lights filling the space.

Her locker opened with a soft metallic click.

Inside was not her books.

Inside was a folded paper.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

She pulled it out slowly, afraid of what it might say.

Her fingers unfolded the paper.

Stay away from the rooftop.

Her breath left her lungs in a silent gasp.

The world tilted slightly.

Why the rooftop?

She swallowed hard, scanning the hallway. No one stood nearby. No one watched.

But she felt it.

That feeling of being seen.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind her.

Steady. Calm. Controlled.

“You found it,” a familiar voice said.

Aira turned.

Rayan stood there.

Hands in his pockets.

Eyes sharp.

Expression unreadable.

Her voice barely worked.

“What… is happening?”

He stopped an arm’s length away from her.

“You’re being noticed now,” he said quietly.

Those words felt heavier than any threat.

Being noticed.

Her worst fear.

Her chest tightened.

“I didn’t want this,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he glanced around before moving closer.

The hallway felt too small.

The air felt heavy.

“Go home early today,” he said.

“Don’t take your usual route.”

Aira nodded slowly, though she didn’t understand why she trusted him so easily.

She shouldn’t have gone near the rooftop.

She knew that.

But curiosity pulled her forward anyway, like a quiet hand at her back.

The stairwell was darker.

Quieter.

Her footsteps echoed too loudly.

Every sound made her jump.

Halfway up the stairs, she felt it.

That strange silence.

That warning feeling.

She turned.

A hand grabbed her wrist.

She almost screamed — but stopped.

It was him.

Rayan.

His grip wasn’t harsh.

It wasn’t gentle either.

It was protective.

Panicked.

“Are you insane?” he whispered.

His breath was warm against the cold air.

Her wrist was warm where he held her.

“I told you not to come near here.”

“I…” Aira swallowed. “I just wanted to understand.”

Silence fell between them.

Her heart beat wildly.

His hand still held her wrist.

Neither of them moved.

Softly, she asked,

“Why are you protecting me?”

His jaw tightened.

His fingers loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go.

“Because…” he began, then stopped.

He looked away for a brief moment.

His voice dropped.

“Because the world doesn’t look at weak girls kindly.”

The words hurt.

But they also felt honest.

Aira’s eyes stung.

Weak.

She had heard that word her whole life.

But from him… it felt different.

He wasn’t mocking her.

He was worried.

Her fingers trembled.

She slowly, carefully pulled her hand back.

He let her.

Not because he didn’t care —

But because he respected her.

She looked down.

Then up again.

Her voice came out smaller than she wanted:

“Am I really that weak?”

Rayan didn’t answer right away.

He studied her face.

Her shaking hands.

Her guarded eyes.

Her fragile strength.

“No,” he said finally.

“You’re just… not pretending to be strong.”

She didn’t know why — but that almost made her cry.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her phone vibrated again.

A message.

Rayan:

Go straight home.

No music. No distractions.

She stared at the screen.

Her heart felt heavier.

But stronger.

Invisible…

But slowly learning to be seen.

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