Adian sat alone in his living room, the dim ceiling light casting faint shadows across his face. His phone buzzed again on the table. Another message. Another invitation. Another plea.
"Come to TME," they all said. "We need someone like you."
He didn't even flinch.
He had once been a nobody. A ghost. No one respected him. No one cared. Now, they begged for his presence.
How strange.
He leaned back, the silence heavy around him, and his mind wandered—unwillingly—back into the darkness he thought he had sealed away.
When he was little, life had already turned cruel. His mother died giving birth to him, and his father followed a few years later, leaving him in the hands of a woman who never wanted him.
His stepmother.
She was never kind. She never cared. She called him a bastard. A mistake. A child cursed by fate. Her voice still echoed in his ears like a whip:
"You'll never be anybody. You're nothing. You'll always be nothing."
And so, he suffered. Bruised. Silent. Unseen.
When he was finally sent to the orphanage, it didn't feel like rescue. It felt like exile. He became the quiet one. The strange one. The boy who never spoke unless spoken to. The boy who had no one—not a friend, not a sibling, not a soul who cared.
He turned to books. They became his only companions. He buried himself in words, formulas, diagrams, and dreams. That was the only world where no one could touch him.
Even in college, he stood alone at the top—but in his heart, he was still at the bottom. Broken. Guarded. Wounded.
If only the people who admired him knew what it took to become "Adian."
Would they still want to be him?
He let out a quiet, bitter laugh.
He couldn't even remember the last time he smiled—truly smiled—from his heart. If his stepmother could see him now, would she still call him a nobody?
At least he made it to the top. At last.
He could still remember the day he graduated. He held his CV like it was his lifeline, going from place to place, looking for a job, for a chance. And then—he saw a company building. He applied for an internship.
And fate, for once, twisted in his favor.
He met someone he recognized—a woman from the orphanage. Her family used to donate food and clothes. He remembered her kindness… but she didn't remember his strength.
She told the staff there that he was the boy who had issues. That he had psychological problems. Mental struggles. That he was introverted and emotionally unstable.
She didn't mean harm. But she spoke like he was still that broken child.
And maybe, back then, he was.
Some believed her. They said he wouldn't keep up. That he'd never survive the pace of corporate life.
But one man didn't listen.
Mr. Gordon—the manager—saw something different.
He didn't care if Adian was introverted. He didn't care about labels or gossip. He believed that talent spoke louder than personalities. That what someone could do mattered more than what others saidabout them.
And Adian? He proved it.
Mr. Gordon trained him personally. Built him from the ground up. Helped him sharpen not just his skills, but his confidence.
Till today, Adian never forgot him. His gratitude ran deep, buried beneath his calm exterior. Mr. Gordon didn't just help his career—he helped restore his humanity.
Not long after, Adian applied for a major competition. He won.
Then he won again. And again. And again.
That was how he caught the attention of his current company—the Zonic Group.
And now… here he was.
One of the most influential mechanical engineers in the world.
Companies fought over him. Recruiters flooded his inbox. Conferences wanted him. Universities quoted him. He was the boy in black—untouchable, revered.
He never imagined he'd be here. Never imagined the world would know his name.
But sometimes, in the dead of night, when the shadows grew long and the phone buzzed with desperate invitations—
He still felt like that boy. Sitting by the gate. Waiting for someone who'd never come.