Fragments

The afternoon sun bled through the library windows, casting long, golden bars across Lyla’s sketchpad. The only sound was the rhythmic scritch-scratch of graphite against paper.

“Oh, come on, Lyla. Why don’t you just tell him already?” Celine leaned back, her chair creaking as she let out a dramatic, playful sigh.

Lyla didn’t look up. Her hair fell like a curtain, hiding her face. “I can’t… not now,” she muttered, her grip tightening on the pencil.

Celine rolled her eyes, leaning into Lyla’s personal space. “It’s not like he’s going to kill you for having a crush, girl. It’s 2026, not the dark ages.”

Lyla’s hand froze. Her gaze fixed on the half-finished jawline on the page—a jawline she knew by heart. “Who knows…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Maybe he would.”

“Excuse me?” Celine frowned. She waited for the punchline, for Lyla to laugh it off. But Lyla just flipped the page with a trembling hand, burying the drawing in white space.

The Hallway.

The atmosphere shifted the second he entered. It was like a magnetic pull.

Kael walked with an easy, lethal confidence. He didn’t look at people; people looked at him. His sharp smile never quite reached his eyes—the eyes of someone born to be admired, but never touched.

“Ah, Kael! Check out those nerds over there,” Jeremy snickered, jerking his chin toward the corner where Lyla and Celine stood.

Kael’s gaze flicked toward them. It was a cold, clinical swipe. “Not worth our time,” he said. His voice was low, husky, and carried a weight that made Lyla’s heart stutter.

He kept walking. But Liam—always the one to push for a reaction—smirked. “Come on, a little mischief wouldn't hurt.”

In a blur of motion, Liam broke from the group. Before Lyla could even gasp, he snatched the sketchpad from her hands.

“Hey! Give that back—right now!” Lyla shot to her feet, her face flushing a deep, angry crimson. She reached for it, her fingers brushing the air, but Liam held it high above his head, laughing.

“Careful,” Celine whispered, grabbing Lyla’s arm and pulling her back. Her eyes were darting toward Kael’s retreating back. “They’ll crush us if we push too hard. Just let it go, Ly.”

“And what if I don’t?” Liam twirled the pad, his lips curling into a taunting smirk.

Jeremy clapped his hands, his laughter echoing in the crowded hall. It felt like a spotlight was being shined on Lyla’s

humiliation. “Wait—hold up. Is this… is this Kael?” Jeremy snorted, flipping a page.

Liam’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Oh my god. A nerd like you actually thinks she has a chance with Kael?”

Lyla lunged again, her throat tight. She didn't care about the crowd anymore. She just needed those drawings gone. Her fists clutched at the air, her eyes shimmering with the hot threat of tears.

Then, a shadow fell over them.

“What’s going on here?”

The voice was like ice. Kael stood there, his presence suffocating. He plucked the sketchpad from Liam’s hand with practiced ease. He didn't look angry; he looked bored.

Until he saw the page.

His eyes skimmed the detailed shading, the way she had captured the exact tilt of his head. His lips curved into a faint, cruel smirk.

“You like me, huh?” Kael stepped into her space. Lyla’s breath caught. He smelled like expensive cologne and cold air.

“She just—” Celine started, but Kael’s eyes sliced toward her.

“Shh. I asked her, not you.”

Lyla’s throat went bone-dry. She took a stumbling step back, Celine’s hand steadying her waist. The world felt like it was tilting. “I… I kinda do…”

A sharp, hollow chuckle escaped Kael. He turned the sketchpad over in his hands, admiring it for one final second.

RIP.

The sound was deafening. He tore the page clean in half. Then another. And another. Torn fragments of her heart fluttered down like dead white petals, settling in the dirt around Lyla’s shoes.

“Bold of you to even hope I’d like a nerd like you.”

The words cut sharper than the paper scraps. Lyla opened her mouth, but the air wouldn't come. Behind him, Jeremy and Liam were practically vibrating with mockery. “We told you so.”

“I’d better not see this again,” Kael said coolly. He brushed past her, his shoulder hitting hers just enough to make her stagger.

Lyla’s knees buckled. She sank to the floor, her fingers hovering over the shredded remains of her soul. The whispers of the hallway rose like a tide around her.

“Lyla, get up… everyone’s staring,” Celine whispered urgently, kneeling beside her.

“I poured everything into those, Celine!” Lyla’s voice cracked. Her body shook with a sob that tore through her chest. “All my emotions—and he just… he just destroyed them.”

The Principal’s Office

The air was thick with tension. The Principal sat behind his mahogany desk, his glasses slipping down his nose as he surveyed the group: Kael, Lyla, Celine, and the two boys.

“I’ve heard about the disturbance at recess,” the Principal said, his voice stern. “This behavior is unacceptable."

“Sir,” Jeremy interrupted, leaning forward. “Lyla drew Kael’s likeness without his consent. He was just… removing the sketches. I don’t see the problem.”

“What?!” Celine snapped, her eyes blazing.

The Principal sighed, looking toward Kael. “Kael, tell me—do you have any feelings for this girl?”

Kael didn't even look at her. His jaw was tight, his expression bored. “Absolutely not. She’s not my type.”

Lyla felt the words like a physical blow to the stomach. She clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood. She refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

“Very well,” the Principal said. “Kael, do not publicly humiliate students again. Am I clear?”

Kael gave a curt nod.

“Dismissed.”

The Drive Home.

Lyla pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the car window. The city was a blur of neon and grey.

“How was school today, honey?” her mom asked, her voice bright and oblivious.

“Fine.”

“Just fine?” Her mom glanced at the rearview mirror. “You look a bit pale.”

“No, Mom… I’m just tired.” Lyla forced a smile that felt like it was breaking her face.

At home, the front door had barely opened before a small weight slammed into her legs. “Lyla!” Sam squealed, his tiny arms wrapping around her knees.

For a moment, the weight in her chest lifted. She scooped him up, burying her face in his neck. He smelled like baby powder and innocence. “I missed you, buddy,” she whispered.

Dinner was a struggle. Her father watched her over his glasses. “Is everything okay? You’re barely eating.”

“Of course, Dad!” Lyla’s voice was an octave too high. She distracted herself by feeding Sam his rice, laughing at his messy face.

But later, in the silence of her room, the mask shattered.

She collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. She pulled out her phone. The passcode—his birth date—felt like a brand. His initial, a glowing K, sat on her wallpaper.

She couldn't bring herself to reply to Celine’s worried messages. Instead, she put on her "Rainy Days" playlist, letting the sad lyrics drown out the sound of her own breathing.

Meanwhile, at the Vane Estate.

Kael sat in a dining room that felt more like a museum. The chandelier above cast a harsh, golden glow over the perfectly seared steak on his plate.

“Mom, you won’t believe what happened today,” he said, his tone casual.

“Oh? Do tell,” Isabella said, dabbing her lips with a linen napkin.

“That nerd I mentioned—Lyla. She confessed. In front of the whole school.” He smirked, twirling his fork. “We made sure she won’t be trying that again.”

Isabella let out a soft, melodic chuckle. “Middle-class girls… they always dream too much. Just let her live in her silly imagination, Kael. It’s harmless.”

...----------------...

“That’s what I thought,” Kael replied, taking a bite of his steak.

......................

But for a split second, his hand trembled. He remembered the look in Lyla’s eyes—not the anger, but the pure, shattered betrayal. The image flickered in his mind, irritating and unwelcome. He took a long drink of water, forcing the image down, pretending it didn't taste like ash.

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