Jay's POV:
School felt quieter than usual, or maybe I'd just stopped trying to fill the silence.
Every corner, every hallway still carried traces of them — laughter echoing off lockers, whispered jokes behind textbooks, the kind of chaos that once made me feel alive.
Now, it just hurt.
When I passed Section E's corridor, I kept my eyes straight ahead.
I could still feel Cin's gaze even if he wasn't there — that wide grin that used to pull me into trouble, the late-night calls where he'd rant about dumb movies, the way he always found me first when I got lost.
I missed him.I missed all of them.
And that realization tasted bitter because missing them felt like betrayal.
Classes blurred by. I didn't talk, didn't smile, didn't even bother pretending I was okay.
By the final bell, I'd already made up my mind — home was the only place left to breathe.
–––
The mansion was calm when I got there.
Stella's music hummed from the kitchen, Cole was on the desk on a meeting about some products, and David sat at the counter scrolling through his phone.
I mumbled something about homework and slipped into my room before anyone could ask.
The card from Cin lay on my desk, creased at the edges from how many times I'd unfolded it.
Come home, Ate. Just once.
I stared at the words until they blurred.
Cin had always been the heart of everything — the one who made everyone else laugh when the world got too heavy. He didn't deserve to be caught in the middle of everything that broke us.
If there was anyone worth showing up for, it was him.
I sighed, finally whispering to the empty room,
"Just for you, Cin."
–––
The next day, I found myself wandering the mall.
Every shop window flashed with things that screamed generic: watches, headphones, limited-edition sneakers — none of it felt right.
Cin didn't need things; he liked meaning.
I remembered the time we'd stayed up making paper stars, scribbling dumb quotes and hopes inside each one.
He'd said, "Each one's a little wish. One for every bad day, so you never run out of reasons to smile."
And that's when it hit me.
A jar of stars.
Three hundred sixty-six little pieces of paper — one for every day, and one for the leap that kept us going.
–––
By the time I got home, my bag was filled with pastel papers, markers, and a plain glass jar.
Stella peeked in curiously. "What's all that for?"
"Project," I said quickly, forcing a smile.
Cole and David tried hovering, offering to help, but I shook my head.
"This one's mine."
So I sat by the window as the city lights flickered, folding paper until my fingers cramped.
Each star held something — a memory, a line, a quiet apology.
For the time you waited for me after class.
For the time you covered when I couldn't speak.
For every time you made me laugh when I didn't want to.
Hours slipped by, the room filling with the soft rustle of paper and my own uneven breathing.
When the last star fell into the jar, I exhaled slowly — it felt like sealing away a piece of my heart.
I needed air.
–––
Outside, the night air was cool, brushing against my skin like a quiet warning.
I walked down the empty lane, jar still in hand, the city whispering low under the hum of streetlights.
That's when I saw someone familiar.
Leaning casually against a black motorbike, dark jacket, messy hair that caught the glow of the lamps — and eyes that looked like they'd been waiting for me.
He smirked, chin tilting slightly.
"Jay, right?"
My steps slowed. "Who's asking?"
He pushed off the bike, closing the distance with an ease that made me tense.
"Name's Jason," he said, voice smooth but edged. "Heard a lot about you."
"I'm not interested." I turned to leave, but his next words made me freeze.
"Either you get on this damn bike… or I'll make you."
The tone was teasing, but something underneath it told me he wasn't bluffing.
My eyes flicked to the bike — sleek, black, familiar.
And then it hit me.
He was the one who'd chased me that night.
"You," I whispered.
Jason's grin widened, a touch of mischief in it. "So you do remember. Didn't think you'd forget me that easy."
I folded my arms. "You think flirting is going to help your case?"
He chuckled lowly. "Not flirting, sweetheart. Persuading."
"So you getting on it yourself or do I have to make you because if I have to then..." He looked with a smirk. I thought about it
I should've walked away.
But something in his gaze — sharp, knowing, dangerous — kept me rooted.
Reluctantly, I swung a leg over the bike.He pulled me onto him smirked..
He revved the engine, the sound splitting the silence, and we sped into the night.
When he finally stopped, it was outside a dimly lit roadside restaurant.After ordering we looked into each other souls and before anything I slid off, crossing my arms again. "What do you want?"
Jason leaned forward, eyes steady on mine.
"Revenge," he said simply.
"From Keifer."
My breath hitched.
He smirked again, but this time it wasn't playful — it was cold.
"I know what he did to you, Jay. And trust me… I'm not here by accident."
The world seemed to tilt, the night suddenly heavier, sharper — like everything I thought was behind me had just found its way back.
And this time, it wasn't done with me...