10/11/2050
(Present)
Are these tears... or simply the rain streaking down my cheeks? That sound, which can be so soothing, overwhelms me with an emotion I can't explain. Am I sad... or simply lost? It's so dark. I can't see anything. I was certain it was daytime.
"Leila!!!"
The voice drifts away. It's so warm. I remember... that day. It was unbearably hot, and yet, not a single drop of sweat touched my skin.
"Leila..."
"Leila..."
***
10/10/2049
(Past)
"LEILA!!!"
"Here!!" I answer jumping out of my seat.
A few laughs travel across the room.
At the back of the classroom, the teacher rolls her eyes.
"Yes, Miss Karima, we all know you're present… Please sit down."
The class bursts into laughter, then quickly settles down.
Every gaze moves forward, settling on the board
My heart is still beating too fast. I sit back down slowly, trying to hide the unease washing over me. The image of the dream lingers—deep darkness, even though it was daytime. And that voice… unfamiliar, calling my name. It still resonates inside, forcing me to keep my eyes open, afraid that a tear might slip free and trail down my face.
I hear someone hold their breath, clearly trying not to burst out laughing.
I turn around and catch sight of a cascade of black hair falling over a hidden face, bent forward over his desk to avoid being noticed.
"Mr. Éros, is there a problem?" the teacher asks, one eyebrow raised, clearly intrigued by his reaction.
"No, everything's fine, ma'am," he replies, his voice shaking, his shoulders trembling as he struggles to hold back laughter.
That boy is Cédric Éros.
Not very talkative. All I know is that he was recently transferred from another school. Either way, his tan gives him away he clearly isn't from here. The rumors say his father, a powerful executive, had a child with one of his mistresses. To Among the students, he's nothing more than a street kid who just happened to inherit his father's money.
The bell rings, pulling me out of my thoughts about Cédric. The room empties out as the conversations fade. Within moments, the classroom is almost empty.
"Are you coming, Leila?" My best friend Jade asks, standing by the door with a group of girls just behind her.
As I check my phone, a name flashes on the screen.
Daniel McCann.
I freeze for a moment.
"I have something to take care of. I'll catch up later."
The sound of their voices disappear into the distance. There's no one left but me. I don't move. Eyes fixed on my phone, I shut myself off from the rest of the world, as if it no longer exists. Time passes.
The handle turns slowly. he door opens, letting out a faint, almost unsettling creek
I instinctively look up.
When I catch sight of the figure stepping inside, a shiver runs through me.
My fingers freeze on the screen.
A knot tightens in my throat, finding myself gasping for air.
An icy chill wraps around me, tensing every muscle in my upper body for a brief moment.
"Is this where you've been hiding?"
"Didn't you see my messages?"
His voice is calm, but I sense a hint of frustration beneath it, as if he's trying to keep it under control.
I remain silentr. I Istand there, frozen in place, my eyes still fixed to my phone, as if I could wish this situation away.
The silence grows thick and heavy, enveloping me in a suffocating veil
Each second feels endless.
The sound of my breathing suddenly becomes too loud in my ears.
"Come on. Let's go. Everyone's waiting," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument.
But my body won't move. No words come out.
I hear him moving closer.
His footsteps are almost silent, leaving behind nothing but a cold pressure in the air.
Before I can react, his hand settles against my back, gently forcing me up from my chair.
I can't tell how close he is anymore.
The touch of his long, slender hands against my back makes me flinch ever so slightly. Just enough not to upset him. Each finger feels like it could cut into me at any moment.
As soon as I reach the hallway, something inside me snaps. An invisible force seems to grab a hold of me, pushing me forward. Before I can stop myself, I start running, my footsteps ringing down the hall.
I just need to get away from him.
I can't stay here.
I take the stairs two at a time.
The sound of my footsteps echoes off the empty walls, but I don't dare look back.
I have no idea if I'm being followed.
My heart pounds painfully against my chest, each beat sharp and relentless, but I keep going. My thoughts are blurred, focused only on one thing, escape.
Finally, I reach the door leading to the school's rooftop.
I shove it open, my hands shaking, and rush outside.
Warm air floods my face, knocking the breath out of my lungs, but I don't stop.
I take deep, ragged breaths, panting as I try to calm the turmoil in my head, as I try to convince myself that I am safe, that I can finally breathe.
The sun shines relentlessly, the sky clear of clouds.
The heat is crushing, almost suffocating.
And yet, despite it all, I'm not sweating.
The intensity of my emotions smothers anything that could make me feel human.
My body is locked in survival mode, without a single trace of sweat, as if everything in me is focused on this exact moment.
In front of me, nothing but empty space.
The rooftop.
The drop below.
I have no idea what I'm supposed to do next. But I don't have time to think. My steps carry me to the edge of the roof.
The drop.
The silence.
I jump.
Suddenly, a voice—louder than before—shatters the silence.
A questioning tone, filled with uncertainty.
"Leila?!"
I don't understand.
I'm not falling. I'm not moving. And yet, I was sure I had jumped.
I remember the sensation of throwing myself into the open air, but suddenly I'm pressed against the ground, lying along the low wall to the right of the rooftop door.
Out of breath, my heart racing wildly.
How is this possible?
I try to make sense of it, but my head is spinning, the back of my head pressed hard against the wall.
I hear a voice—blurred—coming from the door.
"She's not here. Sorry."
Another voice answers, sharper this time. Tense. Almost aggressive.
"There's nowhere else she could be! What are you talking about?!"
I move carefully along the low wall, crouched, trying not to make a sound.
My breathing is shallow. My hands—slightly scraped—grip the rough edge of the scorching concrete.
One step at a time, I inch closer to the corner.
When I reach the end, I slowly rise just enough to see without being noticed.
And then… I see him.
A boy.
Completely still.
"Let go of me, sir. Please."
I can't see clearly from this angle.
The only things I make out are his black hair and the fact that he's speaking to Daniel.
Sir ?
My eyes widen.
Did he really just call him mister? They're almost the same age…
Daniel steps back from the boy, calm and collected, as if some instinct told him to give way. He does so without resistance, his gaze locked on something unseen like an approaching danger. Then, without another word, he turns around and heads back toward the stairs quickly, ready to leave.
The moment he's gone, the boy lets out a quiet sigh of relief.
He doesn't look at me, his eyes hidden behind a thick fall of black hair. He bends down slowly, picks up his bag beside me, then straightens without a word.
With quiet determination, he heads for the exit, his silence hanging between us like a barrier.
"Thank you. Cédric, right?"
He pauses for a brief moment, but doesn't turn around.
Just a slight nod barely noticeable before he keeps walking, leaving behind a heavy, unreadable silence as he disappears toward the exit.