“ The desire we all share as humans is to be seen and heard. ”
***
— Cecile —
I woke up to a text saying I had just earned a three-digit royalty for my poem.  
It’s only been a few days since it was posted, and I can’t help but feel amazed by the responses I’ve received. People I’ve never spoken to, classmates who used to ignore me, are now reaching out, telling me how much they relate to my words.  
Even Layla, one of the popular girls, has gotten close to me. She opened up about her own journey through heartbreak and healing, and her vulnerability moved me in ways I didn’t expect.  
It’s incredible how words, shared experiences, and hope can connect people.  
But despite the warmth I’ve felt, nothing changes the fact that I miss him. Words can’t explain how much.  
The past few days have been the same—blank stares, quiet moments.  
Yet, I’ve noticed something: it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.  
And that, in itself, makes me feel a little lighter.
***
— Joel —
I watched Cecile walk into the classroom, stunning as always. But lately, she’s become even more beautiful. There’s something about the way she smiles now—dazzling, almost like a light I can’t touch.  
She didn’t even glance at me, not once. It’s been like this for weeks, but it still stings every time.  
Doesn’t she miss me?  
Does she ever think about us? Or has she forgotten everything?  
The thought tears through me, and I can almost hear my aunt’s harsh words echoing in my head. “We both know you’re not worthy of love, Joel.”  
Am I really not?  
I turn my focus back to the painting I’m working on—loneliness bleeding across the canvas.
***
— Cecile —
I felt Joel’s gaze the moment I stepped into the classroom, something I hadn’t felt in weeks. What changed?  
Essy once told me that guys often start missing a girl only after she’s out of reach for a while.  
I didn’t believe it then. Why would he miss me now? He’s the one who started ghosting me.  
With those thoughts swirling in my mind, I made my way to my seat and began writing my to-do list. I always made my list in the morning once I arrived at school; it helped me feel prepared for the day.  
As always, at the top of my list: *Ignore Joel Maverick.*  
The day passed like any other, and soon enough, the bell rang for dismissal. “Already?” I thought, glancing at the sky. It was a strange mix of blue and gray, like it couldn’t decide whether to rain or shine.  
I packed my books, ready to leave. As usual, I had told my driver not to pick me up. I liked riding my bike home on Fridays, enjoying the freedom and the scenery.  
But today, I regretted that decision. I didn’t have an umbrella, and the sky looked ready to burst.  
Fifteen minutes into my ride, the rain came down hard. I had no choice but to seek shelter. After a few minutes, I found a small shed and rushed inside, my bike in tow.  
What I didn’t expect was to see Joel there, staring at me like I was something he’d been waiting for.  
I felt self-conscious, water dripping from my hair, my clothes soaked. When I looked back up, his eyes were still on me.  
We stayed like that, locked in silence, until I finally spoke.  
“Joel.”  
“Cecile.”  
We said each other’s names at the same time. I was about to say more when he suddenly crossed the distance between us and kissed me.  
I froze. This wasn’t my first kiss, but it was so unexpected that I didn’t know how to react.  
How do you react when someone who’s been ignoring you for weeks suddenly kisses you?  
“Joel—” I started, but he silenced me with another kiss, and this time, I found myself kissing him back.  
The kiss deepened, more passionate than I thought possible, until I pulled away, tears blurring my vision.  
“I hate you,” I whispered, the words sharp and heavy. I regretted them as soon as they left my lips, especially when I saw the pain in his eyes.  
“You ignored me for weeks, and now you kiss me? Do you think I’m a doll you can just pick up whenever you feel like it?” I yelled at him, my voice shaking with the emotion I’d been holding back.  
I wanted to scream, to demand answers. Why did he ghost me? Why now? Why did he kiss me? I wanted him to tell me he was sorry, to say he’d make it right.  
But he didn’t.  
We stood there, inches apart, staring at each other in the silence that had always been our undoing.  
Finally, just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”  
But it was too late.  
I turned and ran out of the shed, mounted my bike, and pedaled into the now-clear sky.  
The rain had stopped, but my tears kept falling, unrelenting. I didn’t wipe them away.  
“I hate him,” I whispered, throwing myself onto my bed, still in my damp clothes.  
It didn’t matter that I was soaked. My heart was bleeding, and that was what hurt most of all.
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A/N: Wow, this was intense to write. What do you guys think?