SEPTEMBER 3RD

The first day of high school. New faces, loud voices, a world I wasn’t part of yet.

And then I saw him.

On stage, holding the mic like it was made for him. Calm, confident, like he had nothing to prove. His voice carried through the air, smooth and effortless, as if the world itself paused to listen.

I don’t know why, but in that moment, he felt like a story I wasn’t ready to write—yet somehow, already had.

Maybe it was the way he never once hesitated. Or the way his eyes held something deeper, something unspoken, as if he was chasing something only he could see.

I didn’t know his name yet.

But somehow, I knew—this was just the beginning.