The night was calm, and the world outside was quiet, but in Kean's room, the warmth of their conversation lingered in the screen's glow.
Kaye: You're cute, have a goodnight, Kean!
Kean smiled, fingers tapping gently.
Kean: You're cuter. Have a goodnight, Kaye :>>
Kean: "Hey Kaye, just wondering… do you have IG or FB? Maybe we could add each other there too?"
Kaye: "Oh… um, I actually don't use those much anymore."
Kean: "Really? Why not?"
Kaye: pauses for a bit before typing "It's kind of hard to explain… but, I've been through some stuff in the past.
Kean: "Oh… I didn't mean to bring anything heavy up. I'm sorry."
Kaye: "No, it's okay. You're kind. I know you didn't mean it that way. It's just… I always break down. Social media makes me so anxious now. I get overwhelmed easily. People expect so much from you online, and I'm too sensitive for it."
Kean: "Hey… that's totally valid. I've been there too. Like… when I was silently going through stuff with my friends and no one noticed. It sucks."
Kaye: "Exactly. That kind of silence is heavy."
Kean: "Well, I just want you to know… I'm not here to expect anything. Just here to listen, and stay."
Kaye: "Thank you, Kean. That really means a lot."
He was about to lock his phone when Kaye suddenly typed again.
Kaye: Hey, can I say something before we sleep?
Kean: Of course, what's on your mind?
There was a pause. The "typing..." notification blinked, disappeared, came back again. And then:
Kaye: The reason I've been inactive on other platforms... it's because I had a really bad past with online relationships.
Kean: Oh...
Kaye: I've always tried to be kind, to trust. But it backfired so many times. I've been ghosted, lied to, hurt—so many things I couldn't say to anyone. I started breaking down more than I could handle. Every notification would make me anxious. And when I scroll through social media, I get overwhelmed. I feel... small. I felt like I was never enough.
Kean's heart sank. He wasn't expecting that much pain hidden beneath her sweet texts and sunny replies.
Kean: Kaye... that's really heavy. I'm so sorry you went through that.
Kaye: It's okay... it's just why I stay quiet online now. I feel safer this way. I don't want to be reminded of how I was left behind. I guess I'm just... too sensitive.
Kean stared at the screen for a moment, then softly replied:
Kean: I get that. I've had silent battles too. Back then, I was going through something with my closest friends, and I couldn't tell anyone. We were together in person, but I felt so invisible. Like I was there, but not really present. I guess that's my version of being ghosted too.
Kaye: ...That sounds painful.
Kean: It was. But then I met you.
Kaye: ...
Kean: You're not "too sensitive." You just feel deeply. And honestly, I'm glad you opened up. Thank you for trusting me with this. I'm not going anywhere.
Kaye: Thank you, Kean...
Kean: Let's just take this one step at a time. No pressure, just real talk, real smiles, and peace. I'm here for you, always.
Kaye: You're making my heart melt right now. I feel safe... really safe.
Kean: That's all I ever want you to feel, Kaye.
And with that, the night closed in gently. Kean turned off his phone, heart full. He wasn't just talking to someone anymore—he was starting to understand someone. And that meant more than any post, any like, any platform ever could.
The morning sun, golden and warm, streamed through Kean's window, pulling him gently out of sleep. His phone, lying on the nightstand, buzzed with a new notification. Kean's eyes fluttered open, a soft smile already forming as he reached for it, knowing who the message would be from.
It was a photo from Kaye.
She was wearing a fuzzy, brown animal hat with little bear ears that framed her face. Her cheeks were slightly rosy, and her eyes, still a little sleepy, looked straight into the camera. She had a mischievous, playful expression as she gave a small wave. The text below the photo was simple and sweet.
Kaye: Hello? Are you awake? :>
Kean laughed quietly to himself, his heart feeling a little lighter than it had the night before. He typed a quick reply.
Kean: I am now. :P
He looked at the picture again, the early morning light in his room making it feel even more intimate. He could practically hear her voice in the text.
Kaye: Good. I didn't want you to miss out on the cuteness.
Kean: I'm sure the hat is very happy to be on such a cute head.
Kaye: Stop! You're going to make me blush.
Kean felt a small, genuine warmth bloom in his chest. He set the phone down and stretched, the feeling of their conversation lingering like a pleasant melody. He knew he had a day full of chores ahead of him—the dishes in the sink, the clothes waiting to be folded, and then, of course, online classes. It was the same routine he had every day. But today, the tasks felt a little less mundane.
He went to the kitchen, the sunlight illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. As he worked, he thought about Kaye, wondering what her day would be like, what she would be doing right now. He smiled as he scrubbed a plate clean, picturing her in that cute little hat. It was a small thing, a simple photo, but it felt like the start of something special. He wasn't just going through the motions anymore. He was living his day, and so was she, connected by a thread that was still invisible, still new, but felt stronger with every passing morning.
The morning light in Kaye's room was cooler, a soft, hazy gray that promised rain later. She sat at her desk, a mug of steaming tea clutched in her hands, staring at the orientation schedule on her laptop screen. The subject line for her first class made her stomach do a little flip: Filipino 101.
She let out a quiet sigh. Filipino was a beautiful language, but the grammar felt like a tangled web, and the speaking exercises always made her feel clumsy and self-conscious. She was staring at the professor's cheerful face on the screen when her phone buzzed with a video call from Kean. She smiled as she answered. His face popped up, looking a little sleepy but still bright, propped up on a pile of books.
"Good morning," she said, her voice a little softer than usual.
"Good morning to you too," Kean replied, his smile wide. "Ready for your first class?"
"Not really," she admitted, pointing her phone camera at the screen. "Filipino 101. My least favorite."
Kean chuckled. "I feel you. I have a Calculus class first. The numbers just start swimming."
They stayed on the call as their respective professors began their orientations, the background noise a comfortable mix of academic voices. Kaye felt her shoulders relax, the anxiety of the class melting away as long as he was there, a silent, smiling presence on her screen.
When her orientation finally ended, she leaned back in her chair. "Okay, that's done. Now I have an open study session for history.
It was a grid of faces, some muted, some with cameras off, all students getting ready for the new term. Kaye's eyes scanned the screen, and then she froze. In the upper right corner, a student with dark, wavy hair and a familiar smile was adjusting his camera. He looked almost exactly like her ex-crush, a boy named Liam.
A soft gasp escaped her lips.
"What's wrong?" Kean's voice came through her phone.
"Nothing, it's just… there's someone in this call who looks just like an old crush of mine," she said, still staring at the screen. "His name was Liam."
"Oh yeah?" Kean asked, a playful note in his voice. "Was he a good guy?"
Kaye smiled wistfully. "Yeah. He was. Actually, you two kind of look alike. It's a little strange. The same wavy hair, the same kind of thoughtful eyes."
"Yeah," she said, her gaze still fixed on the other boy. "One time, in our high school class, someone was making fun of me for my drawing, and Liam stood up and told him to stop. He got so mad, a little hot-headed. The teacher had to tell him to calm down. He got a reputation for raging, but it was just because he was defending me."
Kean was quiet for a moment. "Wow," he said, his voice softer now. "That's… a really sweet thing to do."
"It was," she said, her eyes now on Kean's face on her phone screen. She saw the resemblance more clearly now—not just the features, but the same quiet strength in his eyes, the same protective energy she felt from him every night.
"I didn't know you had it in you to be a defender," she teased.
Kean grinned. "I've got a lot of secret talents, Kaye."
"I'm starting to believe that," she said, her heart feeling warm. The coincidence was uncanny, but it also felt like a sign. The universe, in its strange and mysterious way, had brought her someone familiar, someone she could trust, someone who felt like a piece of a story she already knew.
Kean's online class felt like it was moving in slow motion. He stared at the screen, a slideshow of historical dates and figures, but all he could see was the lingering image of Kaye's face. He kept replaying her story about Liam, about being defended. It was strange, the way the details of her past seemed to fit so perfectly with the present. The guy who defended her looked like him. It was a coincidence, of course, but it felt like something more. A thread connecting two different lives.
When his class finally ended, his phone buzzed with an incoming video call from Kaye. He answered immediately, a wide smile on his face.
"Okay," she said, her voice a little shaky from holding the phone. "This is it. The grand tour."
Her camera swung from her face to her room. It was cozy and bright, with a window that looked out onto a wall of misty green. A few potted plants sat on her windowsill, and on her desk, a sketchbook lay open, a half-finished drawing of a fantasy landscape on its pages. He recognized her drawings from the quick doodles she sometimes sent him.
"This is my little sanctuary," she said. "The quietest place in the house."
She moved her camera to the doorway, and he got a glimpse of a hallway. "That's my mom's room and my lola's room over there." She didn't linger on them, but the simple act of showing him felt incredibly personal. He was seeing the most intimate parts of her life.
She walked out of her room and down a short hallway, then held the phone up to a glass sliding door. "And this," she said, her voice full of pride, "is my favorite place."
She stepped out onto a small balcony. A cold gust of wind seemed to blow through her camera, making the leaves on a nearby tree shiver. He could see his own breath condense on his screen, even though his room was comfortably warm. And then, he saw the view.
The landscape was breathtaking. Rolling mountains, a deep, majestic green, stretched into the distance, their peaks shrouded in a soft, ethereal fog. The air looked clean and crisp, the sky a bruised purple that hinted at an impending storm. The neighborhood below was a quiet cluster of lights, with the occasional plume of smoke from a chimney curling into the sky.
Kean gasped, a genuine sound of awe.
"Kaye, it's… it's so beautiful."
"Right?" she said, her voice a warm whisper. "It's so cold here. Most people would hate it, but I love it. It feels so… peaceful. Everything is so quiet up here."
He watched her as she took in the view, her face bathed in the cool light. He could feel the stillness, the peace she was describing. He was thousands of miles away, but for a moment, looking at her and at the view she was showing him, he felt like he was right there with her, sharing in her world. It was a feeling of deep connection, a silent understanding that transcended the simple words they exchanged. He realized then that he wasn't just falling for her. He was falling for her world, too.
After the call ended, Kean sat on his bed for a long time, the image of Kaye's mountain view still burned into his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling of being there with her, of feeling the cold air on the balcony. He was no longer just talking to a girl on an app; he was talking to a girl who lived in a quiet house with a breathtaking view and a warm family.
His curiosity, which he'd tried to suppress the night before, bubbled up again. Her story about social media anxiety was honest and real, but a nagging thought lingered in the back of his mind. Why did it feel like there was something more?
He picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over the IntoGram app. He told himself he was just curious. He wasn't trying to be a detective or betray her trust; he just wanted to see if she was really as "inactive" as she claimed.
He opened the app and typed her name into the search bar.
He scrolled through the results. There were dozens, maybe even hundreds, of profiles. Girls with her same name, same age, same general location. He clicked on a few, but none of them felt right. The bios were wrong, the photos didn't match her face, and the overall vibe was completely different from the Kaye he knew. He tried searching for her full name, but that didn't help either.
He went to Fluebook, then to Weeter, but the results were the same. It was as if she didn't exist in any of those spaces. It wasn't just that she was "inactive"—she was nowhere to be found. The lack of a digital footprint was so absolute that it was unnerving.
A cold sense of wonder settled over him. It didn't make sense. In a world where everyone was online, where a simple search could reveal a person's entire life, Kaye was a ghost. He didn't bring it up with her, and he didn't tell anyone else. He simply locked his phone and lay back, staring at the ceiling.
He was connected to her, that much was clear. But for the first time, he was starting to realize that the connection they shared might be far more mysterious—and complicated—than he ever could have imagined.