Arman Syed sat in the back of the class, chewing on his pen cap, trying to focus on the blackboard. Mr. Habib was explaining something about neural pathways, but all Arman could hear were thoughts.
Not just his classmates' thoughts—he had gotten used to those, the crushes, the judgments, the quiet envy and loud insecurity. It was her thoughts that buzzed like static in his head now. Rina.
"Almost there. Just a little more. Keep playing the role, girl."
She sat three rows ahead, legs crossed, ponytail swaying. She laughed at a joke one of the seniors cracked, her voice sugary sweet. Arman forced himself to smile.
She had been acting different ever since he told her about his powers. More attentive. More helpful. More... perfect. And that was the problem.
He leaned back in his seat. "Keep it cool, Arman. You're still the Thought Broker. No one plays the game better than you."
A bubblegum pop snapped nearby. It was Arefin, the class clown, blowing pink bubbles and stealing glances at the teacher's butt.
"Man, she thick for a physics teacher. Like, damn. If she just bent over one more time..."
Arman chuckled under his breath. Some things never change.
Suddenly, his vision flickered. Not physically—mentally. Like someone had just flicked through the pages of his mind.
"We have to move soon. He's starting to question her."
What was that?
He scanned the room. No mouths moved. No one looked suspicious, except Rina who casually twirled her pen and smirked. She heard that too... didn't she?
The bell rang. The class erupted like a popped balloon. Arman grabbed his bag and stormed toward the hallway.
"Yo, Arman! Wait up!" Rina called. She jogged after him, her chest bouncing under her shirt. He tried not to stare.
"Hey, I thought we were hanging out today. You promised."
He glanced over his shoulder. "Plans changed."
She pouted. "Is this because I wore perfume today? You don't like floral?"
She was always doing that—flirting to misdirect. A tactic he'd used himself.
They walked together through the corridor. Whispers trailed behind them. Someone snapped a picture. Rumors were already growing like mold.
"That's him, right? The guy who reads minds. Thought Broker."
"No way. That guy's a loser. Just look at him."
"Then why's Rina always with him? Think she's using him?"
The voices overlapped, some internal, some whispered. It was getting harder to tell them apart.
Outside, the sun baked the schoolyard. Arman walked toward the back building where fewer students roamed. Rina followed silently. She knew where he was headed.
The rooftop.
---
"You were in my head," Arman said, once they reached the top.
Rina leaned on the railing, pretending to admire the view. "You're always in my head. It's only fair."
He stepped closer. "Cut the act. You're not just a pretty face with a daddy complex. You're part of the group. The ones watching me."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what makes you think that?"
"Because your thoughts leak like a broken faucet. You want me to become something. Something useful."
Rina laughed. Not cruelly. More like someone caught red-handed stealing snacks. "You're not wrong. But you're not entirely right either."
Arman clenched his fists. "Did you ever actually like me? Or was it all just part of your job?"
For a moment, silence.
Then: "Both."
That hit harder than a slap.
She looked at him, her expression soft now. "I didn't expect you to be... this human. This broken. That's why they chose me. I was supposed to handle you. But you surprised me, Arman."
"Handle me? Like I'm some wild dog?"
"No. Like you're a god who doesn't know his own power yet."
Arman felt dizzy. The truth was too loud. Her thoughts were clearer now. She was connected to them—the unseen group that called themselves "The Network."
They collected anomalies. Mind readers. Empaths. Telepaths. And Rina was their recruiter.
She stepped closer and placed a hand on his chest. "Join us. You'll never have to be alone again. No more hiding. No more pretending."
He looked down at her hand, then back up at her eyes. There was something genuine there. But also something twisted.
He laughed.
"If I wanted to join a cult, I'd pick one with cooler uniforms."
Suddenly, she pinned him against the wall. Her body pressed close. "Don't be stupid, Arman. They're watching even now. Say yes. Or next time, it won't be me they send."
His breath caught in his throat. Not from fear. From confusion. From the undeniable attraction he still felt.
Even now, she's hot as hell. This is so messed up.
He leaned in, lips almost brushing hers. Then whispered:
"Tell your bosses... the Thought Broker doesn't work for free."
She blinked.
He smirked.
And then headbutted her.
Rina stumbled back, groaning. "You asshole! That hurt!"
"So did your lies."
He stepped away and walked toward the stairs.
Her voice called out one last time. "They'll come for you, Arman. This was the nice way."
He didn't look back. "Let them come. I'll hear them before they even knock."
---