In a dark, cozy room, not too big and not too small—just enough space for someone to live comfortably.
Tick-tock. With every passing second, the clock's steady rhythm fills the air.
A familiar voice calls Zak's name. He looks to see a girl in a beautiful dress, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't make out her face.
He tries to ask her name, but she only replies with a smile—a smile Zak wishes he could see forever.
As she looks at Zak, she says:
"You really are stupid," she says. "I already told you many times. It's..."
She knows Zak heard it, but he doesn't know what she told him. He tries to recall it, but...
"Um, you might think I'm stupid, but can you say it again?" Zak asks.
"You really are the stupidest person I know," she replies, still smiling.
"Alright, but it's only for you that I'll say it again," she concedes, getting ready to speak. Zak leans closer to hear.
"It's..."
BEEP BEEP BEEP! The alarm blared.
The harsh blare of the alarm ripped Zak from the dream's embrace. He blinked, staring up at his familiar ceiling, and felt the warmth of a tear tracing a path down his cheek.
He remembered having a dream, a vivid one, but its details were frustratingly out of reach. No matter how hard he tried to recall, he just couldn't.
A sudden, familiar feeling hit Zak: the feeling of missing something he didn't remember, a feeling of a gap that would never be filled.
He looked to his phone, the screen glowing in the dim room, and saw the time. A jolt went through him as he remembered: he had a shift this morning before going to class.
The dream, for a moment, receded into the background, replaced by the immediate, undeniable demands of his schedule.
"I forgot I have work this morning before going to class," Zak muttered.
Throwing his legs over the side of the bed. The comfortable warmth of his sheets instantly gave way to the cool morning air.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep, his mind already racing with the day's tasks. There was no lingering thought of a girl, or a missing word—just the pressing need to get moving.
The felt cozy and intimate in his dream , now seemed merely small and a little cluttered. Clothes draped over a chair, textbooks stacked precariously on his nightstand, and an empty mug with dried coffee rings sat on his desk. The faint scent of leftovers noodles remained in the air from last night's dinner. This was his reality: a cramped apartment, a demanding schedule, and a constant scramble to make ends meet.
Zak glanced at the messy table, and a glint caught his eye. A pendant lay nestled among the clutter, an old, tarnished thing with a chain tangled into knots. He didn't recognize it at all. But as his fingers closed around it, a strange, undeniable sense of familiarity washed over him.
The matron at the orphanage, and the other caretakers who'd raised him, had told him about it. It was the only thing his parents had left for him. This wasn't just some old trinket; it was the only thing they'd ever left him.
Zak stares at the pendant for a moment longer, a strange mix of emotions swirling within him. He carefully places it on his nightstand, a silent promise to himself to figure out its story later.
The clock on his phone flashes, a stark reminder of his looming shift at the diner. He sighs, the weight of the day settling back onto his shoulders.
"Time to get moving" he said to himself. He pushes himself up, the worn springs of his mattress groaning in protest. He grabs his work uniform, the familiar faded blue a stark contrast to the swirling emotions from the pendant. A quick shower, a change of clothes, a quick breakfast with a toast bread and bacon, and again he'd be ready to face the day.
The chill of the morning air bit at Zak's face as he stepped out of his apartment building.
The world is again starting to wake up, he could now hear the sounds of car in the distant traffic as he walk. He pulled his thin jacket tighter, the faded blue fabric offering little defense against the brisk breeze. The pendant, now safely on his nightstand, still tugged at a corner of his mind.
His walk to the diner was a familiar route, past closed storefronts and the occasional early bird heading to their own grind. He navigated the cracked sidewalks, the uneven pavement.
The bell above the door jingled as Zak pushed it open, the warm, greasy scent of frying bacon and brewing coffee washing over him. The diner, "Hearthstone Place ," was already open, even at this early hour. There were already a few customers. The clatter of plates, the hiss of the espresso machine, and the low murmur of conversations created a comforting, if chaotic, symphony.
"Morning, Zak!" called Mrs. Elena from behind the counter,
"Your to early this morning "her voice surprisingly bright for the hour.
She was a woman of ample proportions and an even ampler heart, her graying hair usually tied back in a messy bun. She'd been running this diner since before Zak was born, and it was a second home to him, a place where the rules of individual strength seemed to soften into something more akin to community.
"Morning, Mrs. Elena," Zak replied, giving a tired but genuine smile. He quickly shed his jacket and hung it on a hook in the back.
"But it was opened by the time I got here" a hint joking confusion, as Zak was grabbing his apron from the shelf
Mrs. Elana smiles, from what Zak says.
The last of the crowd was gone, and Zak's shift was finally over. Mrs. Elena approached, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Zak, a new person's starting this evening, I won't be around then, so would you mind teaching her a bit later?"
He considered it for a bit, but then Zak just shrugged. If it wasn't going to impact his work, then it was a non-issue.
Zak nod and agreed to Mrs. Elana request, Mrs. Elana's face lit up with a grateful smile.
"it's okay , I see no problem with it "
With his shift finally done, Zak changed out of his work clothes, the smell of bacon and coffee clinging faintly to his shirt. He grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, and gave Mrs. Elena a quick wave goodbye.
The morning rays of sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the street as he stepped out of Hearthstone Place. The usual place rush was in full swing, students spilling out of the nearby crossing, their laughter and chatter filling the air. He pulled out his phone, checking the time.
"7:50 Am , I still have few minutes before the first class."
He still had a few minutes to spare before his first class. The schoolwasn't far, just a five-minute walk if he cut through the park. He decided to stop by nearby vending machine and sit in a bench and thought about his life, as time past he notices the time and start to walks again.
while nearing the main gate, and lots of students now in the gate, a flash of movement caught his eye. A girl, her hair a whirlwind behind her, was practically sprinting in his direction, her arms laden with books that looked ready to spill. She weaved through the dispersing crowd like a seasoned obstacle course runner, a look of desperate urgency etched on her face.