During my childhood, there were very few people I truly cared about.
Looking back now, it almost feels inevitable.
Most of the students in my school didn't like me. Some disliked me openly, others kept their distance, whispering behind my back.
It wasn't entirely their fault—my personality made it difficult from the very beginning. I wasn't loud. I wasn't friendly. I wasn't approachable.
In my first days, I was the kind of kid who barely spoke to anyone. I answered questions with nods or single words.
I avoided eye contact.
Even the teachers struggled to hold a normal conversation with me, often exchanging awkward glances when their attempts failed.
Soon enough, some students started naming me.
The quiet kid.
The weird kid.
The one who never smiled.
Some avoided me entirely—not only because of my silence, but also due to the scars on my body.
They peeked out from under my sleeves, faint lines across my arms, my neck, and sometimes my back during physical training.
That made me look more dangerous to them.
So, I confronted my father and mother about it.
Whenever I asked, my parents told me they were from an accident.
And because I was just a child, I accepted it… never asking further.
Back then, I was unaware of the darker truth behind those marks.
With no one talking to me, no one sitting beside me, no one calling my name, I probably would've turned into some edgy, self-destructive emo kid eventually.
If not for a girl.
Stella Lorien.
She was everything I wasn't.
The most popular girl in school, perfect at everything she did, and easily the most beautiful among all the students.
She even had a fan club dedicated to her—crazy to believe, but she really did.
And she noticed me.
I still remember that day clearly. She walked up to my desk, smiled, and tried to talk to me as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
The reaction was immediate.
Many students stopped her.
Warned her.
Told her to stay away from me.
They told her about the scars, even some rumours about me bringing bad luck to those near me.
Stupid 10-year-old kids.
She listened.
And then ignored all of them.
She still approached me.
At first, I didn't respond.
When she tried to hold my hand once, I flinched violently, pulling away before I could even think.
I thought that would've been enough.
I thought she'd get uncomfortable, embarrassed, and leave me alone like everyone else.
Instead… she did the exact opposite.
From the next day on, she stuck to me like a loyal dog's tail.
Sitting beside me. Walking with me.
Talking to me—even when I didn't answer.
Every single day.
Naturally, a lot of students didn't like that, especially the boys.
Some confronted me, others threatened me.
One idiot even tried to beat me up.
Keyword: tried.
I broke his nose before he could even land a hit.
After that, no one dared to touch me again.
Rumours started spreading that I was some unhinged psycho.
Sigh.
And then came the rumours about Stella and me.
As a result, her popularity dropped.
Yet she didn't change.
Not even a little.
She kept chasing after me—everywhere I went, every single day.
Eventually…
I gave in.
How could I ignore that cuteness of her for that long?
I talked to her.
And slowly, our bond grew.
Without me realising it, my behaviour shifted.
I wasn't that gloomy, lonely kid anymore. I laughed sometimes. I spoke more. I even looked forward to school—just a little.
She became like a sun in my dim world—bright, warm, impossible to ignore.
So I started calling her Star.
The star of my life.
You might think it as cringe, but… fuck you.
Anyways.
Just like I said in the beginning… there are very few people I care about. Very few whom I love.
And she was one of them.
Until—
She left the school.
No warning.
No goodbye.
Just like that, she vanished.
The teachers said that she had transferred somewhere else, and they didn't even know where.
I had no way to reach her.
I never saw her again.
…until now.
***
(Back to the present)
"Are you done?"
It had been five minutes.
Five long minutes, and she was still hugging him like she was afraid he'd vanish the moment she let go.
People around them stared openly now; some whispered, others shamelessly raised their phones.
"I missed you," she said, her voice trembling.
Something warm soaked into his shirt.
She was crying.
Lucian sighed softly and patted her head.
"I missed you too," he said honestly.
"Though I am angry at you for vanishing without any notice."
Stella trembled more and looked at him hastily.
"I didn't mean to! I really didn't! I didn't know that my father would transfer me to another school. And…"
Lucian's brows furrowed.
"And?" he asked, concern slipping into his voice.
He realised that he knew next to nothing about her family, other than the fact that they were insanely rich.
"The school was a special one," she continued quietly.
"I had to stay there until I turned eighteen. Even during holidays… my father didn't allow me to go out."
"Oh."
That was all he could say.
Should he be happy that she hadn't forgotten him, or be sad at the fact that she had to live like that?
"It must have been hard, living like that," he said, patting her head.
She blinked, then shrugged.
"It was boring."
***
They sat together in a nearby park.
Because of Stella's injured ankle, she'd called someone to pick her up later.
"I tried to find you after I came back," Stella said softly.
"But I couldn't."
They were both sitting on a bench, their shoulders brushing.
"I knew your address, so I went there, but found out that your family had moved out. They told me that your parents died in an accident."
Her tone grew sad. She had met them a few times. They'd been kind to her.
She held his hands tightly, as if trying to pass her warmth to him.
'This girl… She is too kind. Just like before'
"It's fine," Lucian smiled.
She stared at him for a long moment—then abruptly changed the topic.
"I even went to your school," she said.
Lucian raised his eyebrows.
"But they told me that you dropped out of there."
Her brows furrowed.
"Why?"
"Just… something happened, and I couldn't continue."
"If you don't tell me, then I won't talk to you."
She narrowed her eyes and puffed her cheeks, hearing his vague answer.
"Really?"
Seeing his sad face, Stella hesitated.
"Hmph, in the past, you said that you would be honest."
Lucian hesitated.
He didn't want sympathy. Not from her or from anyone.
But lying?
No.
He was already lying to his mother by hiding his identity. He wouldn't do it again.
"I… I was paralysed."
Stella's eyes widened.