Some truths aren't meant to be heard.
But once you do—
you can't unhear them.
The day started like any other.
Classes. Conversations. The usual noise that filled the space between people who belonged.
Loid Ainsworth had started noticing patterns now.
Who people greeted.
Who they ignored.
Who they listened to.
And where he stood in all of it.
"Bro, you're quiet again."
Jay leaned against the railing beside him during break, sipping from a half-empty bottle.
"I'm thinking," Loid replied.
"That's never a good sign," Jay smirked.
Loid didn't respond.
His eyes had drifted again.
Charlotte stood near the courtyard, surrounded by a small group. Not loud. Not attention-seeking.
But present.
Always present.
People came to her.
Not the other way around.
"You're doing it again," Jay said, following his gaze.
Loid exhaled slowly. "…Do you think it's that obvious?"
Jay didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"Yeah."
Loid looked away.
That was enough.
"Look," Jay added, tone softer now, "it's not a bad thing."
"I didn't say it was."
"But you're thinking too far ahead."
Loid frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
Jay shrugged. "You're looking at her like she's the destination."
Loid stayed silent.
Because that wasn't completely wrong.
Before he could respond, voices nearby caught his attention.
"…I mean, seriously?"
Loid's gaze shifted slightly.
A group of students stood a few steps away.
Daniel Brooks was talking, his voice just loud enough to carry.
"I'm telling you, it's obvious," he said.
"Obvious what?" someone asked.
Daniel laughed lightly.
"That he likes her."
Loid's grip tightened slightly.
Jay straightened beside him.
"Relax," he muttered under his breath.
But Loid didn't move.
Couldn't.
Because Daniel wasn't done.
"Bro," he continued, "that's like… aiming way out of your league."
A few chuckles followed.
Not loud.
Not cruel.
Just… casual.
Which somehow made it worse.
"She's Charlotte Vale," someone added. "Be realistic."
"Exactly," Daniel nodded. "There's levels to this."
Levels.
The word settled heavier than it should have.
Loid stared ahead, expression unchanged.
But something inside him shifted.
Not anger.
Not embarrassment.
Just…
clarity.
Jay glanced at him. "…Ignore it."
Loid shook his head slightly.
"No."
Jay frowned. "Don't tell me you're actually—"
"I'm not upset," Loid said quietly.
And he meant it.
Because what he felt wasn't hurt.
It was confirmation.
Everything he had been noticing.
Everything he had been thinking.
It was real.
There was a gap.
A visible one.
A measurable one.
And now—
everyone else could see it too.
"That's just how people talk," Jay said. "Doesn't mean it's true."
Loid looked at him.
"It is true."
Jay paused.
For a moment, he didn't argue.
Because deep down—
he knew it too.
Silence stretched between them.
Then Loid spoke again.
"But that doesn't mean it stays true."
Jay blinked.
"…What?"
Loid's gaze shifted back toward the courtyard.
Charlotte laughed softly at something Ava said.
Completely unaware.
Completely distant.
"…It just means I haven't reached that level yet," Loid continued.
His voice was calm.
Steady.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Jay stared at him for a second.
Then slowly—
a grin appeared.
"…You're serious."
Loid didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Because for the first time—
he wasn't questioning where he stood.
He knew exactly where he was.
And more importantly—
he knew where he wanted to go.
The voices behind him faded into nothing.
Because they didn't matter anymore.
Not the comments.
Not the labels.
Not the so-called "levels."
All that mattered was one thing.
Closing the gap.
Step by step.
Without shortcuts.
Without pretending.
Without rushing.
Loid turned away from the railing.
"Where are you going?" Jay asked.
"Library."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "Already?"
Loid nodded.
"…If I'm behind, I don't have time to waste."
Jay let out a quiet laugh.
"Yeah," he said, pushing himself off the railing, "I'm definitely sticking around for this."
Loid didn't smile.
But something about his expression had changed.
Something sharper.
More focused.
More certain.
Because now—
this wasn't just a thought anymore.
It wasn't just a feeling.
It was a decision.
And decisions…
changed everything.