The panic didn't disappear. It just shifted. Slid backward like a wave pulling away from shore, but it left something behind a cold weight sitting in her chest, quiet and heavy.
A dull ache that pressed behind her ribs.
Sarah didn't know where her feet were taking her. She only knew she had to leave that room.
The piano, the silence, the echo of the broken notes still rang behind her eyes, a low hum that refused to stop. Every step away from the practice hall felt like sinking deeper into a fog she couldn't shake.
She wandered through the stone corridors like a ghost, down the stairs past old portraits with eyes that seemed to follow her.
No one stopped her.
No one noticed.
When she reached a side door, she pushed it open hard, not caring how loud it slammed against the wall. The air outside rushed in cold, wet, and real. It tasted like rain and dirt and something sharp she couldn't name.
Anything was better than the stale, polished smell of failure inside.
The storm hadn't stopped.
Rain slashed down in sharp lines, drumming hard against stone and metal, thunder rolled above, deep and mean. The wind pulled at her jacket and tangled her hair but the storm didn't scare her. It felt like the only honest thing she'd felt all day.
She wrapped her arms around herself and kept walking. Her thin academy jacket was no match for the rain, but she didn't care. The cold was almost comforting. It numbed everything else.
She passed the manicured gardens, now nothing but torn-up mud and drowned flowers. Her shoes sank into the gravel. Trees loomed ahead, tall and dark, their twisted branches reaching like claws.
She didn't turn back.
The academy was full of quiet places, corners the teachers didn't talk about. She found herself drawn to one of them now past the music halls, past the sculpture rooms, toward the forgotten edge of the grounds.
That's when she saw it.
A flash of blue-white light sharp and sudden. It blinked through the rain like a heartbeat, bright enough to sting her eyes. Then came the sound, a sharp hiss, loud and violent, slicing clean through the roar of rain.
She moved toward it without thinking.
Branches clawed at her arms as she pushed through a thick hedge, water soaked her sleeves, mud splashed her legs. But something pulled her forward.
On the other side was a clearing she'd never seen before.
A sculpture yard.
Rusting, broken pieces of art surrounded her. Metal limbs twisted toward the sky. Hollow faces stared out from the dark. The rain made everything gleam as if the sculptures were sweating pain. Some looked half-finished, others looked like they had been abandoned mid-scream.
And in the center of it all, under a corrugated metal roof was him.
A boy.
Alone.
He stood hunched over a thick slab of metal, his face hidden behind a welding mask. In his hands, a torch sparked to life. White fire burst from its tip, screaming as it cut through steel. Sparks exploded around him in a blur of orange and gold.
Sarah froze.
She didn't speak neither did she move.
She barely breathed.
The boy moved with purpose, slow but sure, like every motion came from something deep inside. His back flexed beneath a wet, stained shirt, muscles shifting with every stroke of the torch. He didn't just work, he fought the metal, bent it and shaped it.
He dominated it.
She watched from the edge of the yard, the rain soaking her through. Her skin was numb. Her thoughts were quieter than they had been in days.
He was like a painting in motion.
All fire and noise and control.
And she...she was none of those things.
Her hands, once so certain on the piano keys, now shook when they reached for sound. She couldn't even play a scale without freezing.
But he.....he shaped light and metal in the middle of a storm like it was nothing.
She stared at the sparks.
At the heat.
At the boy.
And something in her chest cracked open.
It felt like watching someone refuse to break. Someone who took everything ugly and turned it into something raw and beautiful.
The storm roared and the yard blurred but she didn't move.
Then suddenly, the torch went out.
The light vanished.
The noise stopped.
All that was left was rain and silence.
The boy stayed hunched over, breathing hard. Then he straightened slowly and pulled the mask up onto his head.
Sarah saw his face for the first time.
He looked like he'd been carved out of stone; sharp cheekbones, shadowed eyes, rain and sweat dripping from dark hair. His skin was streaked with ash, his lips were pressed tight.
But it was his eyes that froze her.
Gray, pale, and stormy.
He didn't smile or frown, he just stared at the metal in front of him like it had taken something from him and hadn't given it back.
He hadn't seen her yet.
He placed the torch down, wiped his forehead with the back of his glove, then ran a hand through his hair. His movements were slow, tired. Like he was used to carrying weight. The kind that didn't show.
Then he looked up.
And saw her.
Their eyes met across the clearing.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't speak.
His face didn't change at all.
No curiosity, no surprise, no fear.
Just nothing.
It was like being looked at by a statue, cold, solid, and distant.
Sarah's chest tightened.
She didn't know why she expected him to say something, to ask why she was there, to care but he didn't.
He blinked slowly, deliberately and turned his back on her. He picked up a rag and started wiping down his tools like she hadn't existed at all.
That hit harder than if he'd yelled.
She stood in the rain a moment longer, heart pounding. Her clothes were heavy with water, her teeth had started to chatter.
The cold was real now.
Deep.
Still, she couldn't stop looking at him.
The way he moved, the way he stood, the weight in his silence.
She didn't know him. Didn't even know his name.
But something about him… it stuck. The way he fought the metal. The way he didn't care if anyone saw.
It made her feel small and alive at the same time, like maybe there was still something inside her worth digging out.
She turned and slipped back through the hedge.
The storm swallowed her again and the cold pressed tighter. But her heartbeat was louder now, offbeat and awake.
The image of him burned in her mind, firelight, metal, and storm.
And for the first time all day…
She didn't feel completely numb.