I met Destiny when I was five.

He had those brown, curious eyes that looked like they’d seen the world twice over and still found something to wonder about.

By fourteen, I knew I was in trouble. Because I didn’t just like him—I ached for him.

But Destiny wasn’t meant to be loved. Not like that. He was the boy who slipped through your fingers even when he stood right in front of you. The boy who smiled like he had secrets he’d never tell.

And me? I was the fool who tried to hold on.

This is the story of a boy who ran from love like it was a wildfire.
Of the boy who chased after him, even when it burned.

Destin is a slow, aching exploration of first love, unspoken truth, and the kind of heartbreak that leaves you staring at the ceiling at 3 a.m., wondering if some people were made to be loved…

Or just remembered.

I met Destiny on a Wednesday. I remember because my mom made me wear the itchy green sweater that made my neck red, and he was the only one who said it looked like a superhero cape.


He had these crooked little teeth and brown skin that glowed like warm toast under the sun. A Nigerian boy with a name that felt too big for a five-year-old.


It sounded like something out of a book I wasn't old enough to read.


We became friends fast. The kind of fast that only happens in childhood, where you go from strangers to soulmates in a sandbox. We made up languages. Drew treasure maps no one could read but us. He once told me he wanted to build a time machine out of cereal boxes, and I believed him. Of course I did.


Chapter 1 - He Was Five, and So Was I