Dave hadn't slept.
Not even for a moment.
Each time he closed his eyes, the same image returned—clear, uninvited, and impossible to ignore. A girl standing beneath a dim streetlight, her expression calm in a way that didn't match the storm behind her eyes. There had been something unsettling about it… something quiet, something broken.
And somehow, that silence had been louder than any scream.
He shifted slightly on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as though answers might reveal themselves in the cracks above. They didn't. They never did.
With a frustrated exhale, he ran a hand through his hair and sat up.
"Lina…" he whispered.
The name lingered in the air, soft but heavy, like it carried more meaning than it should.
He stood and made his way to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to look outside. The city stretched endlessly before him, glowing under the night sky—alive, restless, full of people who carried on as if nothing in the world was broken.
But somewhere out there…
She was.
Alone.
Maybe still hurting.
Maybe still thinking about disappearing.
His jaw tightened.
"I hope you're okay… wherever you are," he murmured quietly.
For a moment, he hesitated.
Then, softer—
"I wish you could let me help you."
---
A knock broke the silence.
"Dave, open up."
Andrew.
Dave closed his eyes briefly before responding. "It's open."
The door creaked as Andrew stepped in, Lucas following close behind. Their presence filled the room instantly—but the moment they looked at him, they paused.
Lucas raised a brow. "You look terrible."
Dave gave a dry huff. "Good morning to you too."
Andrew leaned against the wall, studying him carefully. "You didn't sleep."
"Not really."
"And you're not going to tell us why?" Lucas added.
Dave grabbed a shirt from the chair and pulled it over his head. "There's nothing to tell."
Andrew scoffed lightly. "You've been distracted since last night."
"I'm fine."
"You always say that when you're not," Lucas muttered.
For a brief second, Dave hesitated.
But only for a second.
"Drop it," he said simply.
Silence followed.
Andrew and Lucas exchanged a look, but neither of them pushed further.
"Meeting in an hour," Andrew said eventually. "Try to look human by then."
Dave gave a small nod.
They left.
---
Once the door shut, the room fell into silence again.
Dave sank back onto the edge of his bed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His hands hung loosely between them, his thoughts running faster than he could keep up with.
He could've told them.
Could've said everything.
About the girl he met.
About the way she spoke as if life had already lost its meaning.
About the way her tears had stayed with him longer than they should have.
But he didn't.
Because somehow…
It didn't feel like a story to share.
It felt like something personal.
Something fragile.
Something that didn't belong to anyone else.
He let out a slow breath.
"This is crazy," he muttered under his breath.
But deep down—
He knew it wasn't.
---
Across the city, in a house that appeared perfect from the outside, Lina stood in the kitchen.
And nothing about it felt perfect.
Flour dusted the countertops like a thin layer of snow. Cracked eggshells lay scattered beside mixing bowls, and half-prepared ingredients covered nearly every surface. The air was thick with heat, the oven humming softly as another cake layer baked inside.
Lina stood in the middle of it all, her body still, her mind racing.
Her shoulders ached from hours of work. Her fingers were sore, small cuts stinging every time she moved them. Her eyes burned from exhaustion, but she hadn't stopped—not once.
She couldn't.
Not when so much depended on her.
Not when failure wasn't an option.
---
"Is the cake ready yet?"
Anna's voice cut through the quiet.
Lina turned quickly. "Not yet… I'm still working on it."
Anna stepped into the kitchen, her gaze sweeping across the mess with clear disapproval. "You've been 'working on it' for hours."
"It's a four-layer cake," Lina explained softly. "Each layer takes time—"
"I don't need excuses," Anna interrupted sharply. "I need results."
Lina lowered her gaze. "Yes."
Anna moved closer, inspecting the counter as though she expected to find something wrong.
"This better not look cheap," she added coldly. "We're not embarrassing ourselves in front of our guests."
"I understand."
Anna gave one last look before turning and leaving.
And just like that—
The pressure doubled.
---
Lina turned back to the counter slowly, gripping the edge tightly as her hands trembled.
"I can do this," she whispered.
But even she didn't believe it.
---
She forced herself to continue.
Mixing.
Measuring.
Baking.
Cooking.
Moving from one task to another without pause.
Hours passed, though she barely noticed.
Everything blurred together—the heat, the effort, the exhaustion.
---
At one point, she stopped.
Completely.
The spoon in her hand stilled mid-air as she stared blankly ahead.
Her mind had gone quiet.
Too quiet.
---
And then—
A voice broke through.
---
"You don't just throw your life away."
---
Her grip tightened.
Her chest rose slightly as she inhaled.
Why did his words still linger?
Why did they feel… important?
---
She closed her eyes briefly.
"Focus," she whispered to herself.
---
Back at THEVOICE, Dave sat through the meeting in silence.
Voices filled the room, ideas bouncing back and forth, plans being laid out with precision—but none of it reached him.
Not really.
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant.
"…Dave?"
Jeremy's voice pulled him back.
"What do you think?"
Dave blinked slowly. "About what?"
Lucas groaned under his breath. "You're not even listening."
Dave exhaled. "It's fine. Do whatever you think works."
Andrew frowned slightly.
That wasn't like him.
Dave was always sharp.
Always involved.
Always present.
But today—
He wasn't.
---
Back in the kitchen, the smell reached her before she even realized what had happened.
Burnt.
---
Lina's eyes widened.
"No…"
She rushed to the oven, pulling the tray out quickly.
Her heart dropped instantly.
Another layer ruined.
---
She stared at it, her hands trembling.
"I followed everything…" she whispered.
Her vision blurred.
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.
But she forced them back.
Again
She couldn't cry.
Not now.
Not when there was still so much left to do.
Taking a deep breath, she set the ruined cake aside.
And started again.
From the beginning.
Night fell slowly, wrapping the house in silence.
Lights dimmed.
Voices disappeared.
Footsteps faded.
---
But Lina remained.
Still in the kitchen.
Still working.
Still pushing herself beyond what her body could handle.
---
Her movements had slowed, her energy nearly gone—but she refused to stop.
Because stopping meant failure.
And failure…
Was something she couldn't afford.
---
Across the city, Dave stood by his window once more.
The same spot.
The same silence.
The same thoughts.
---
"Lina…"
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I hope you're okay… wherever you are."
He paused, his gaze distant.
"I wish you could let me help you."
---
And somewhere, not too far away—
Lina wiped her hands slowly, staring at the unfinished cake in front of her.
Her body screamed for rest.
Her heart yearning for peace yet neither came , the birthday had to be perfect .