Celeste Ashford POV
The morning sunlight poured through the tall windows of the mansion, warm and bright, but it did little to lighten the weight of the day ahead. Saturdays were never simple. My father had already outlined the plan for the day: school, then the tea talk with Mr. Clarke, and later my language lessons. No deviations allowed.
At school, the day was ordinary classes, notes, and teachers reminding us of exams. Conversations with classmates were polite, mostly about assignments, upcoming events, or small gossip. I kept my distance, aware of my father's expectations and the importance of presenting myself properly in every space.
By mid-afternoon, the school day ended. I returned home, knowing the tea talk was waiting. My father had made his intentions clear: Adrian Clarke was someone important, influential, and it was expected that I associate closely with him.
In the mansion, the staff greeted me as usual.
"Good afternoon, Miss Celeste," said Mr. Lawson, bowing slightly.
"Afternoon," I replied, smiling faintly. "How's everything?"
"All well, miss," one of the housekeepers answered, straightening the table. "Tea is ready, as requested."
I nodded. "Thank you. And make sure the silverware is polished."
"Yes, miss," she said, smiling.
Even these small interactions reminded me of how structured life was here. The staff were kind, but our worlds were different, separated by rules, expectations, and wealth.
---
The tea talk began in the drawing room, with polished floors and afternoon sunlight spilling across the furniture. I entered, keeping my posture perfect. Adrian Clarke was already there, sitting casually, his presence confident and poised. His family was influential, wealthy, and deeply connected to my father's network. I knew exactly why this meeting was happening.
"Celeste, meet Mr. Adrian Clarke," my father announced, gesturing toward him.
I nodded politely. "Hello, Mr. Clarke."
"The pleasure is mine," he replied smoothly, extending a hand.
We shook hands, and I felt the weight of expectation pressing down again. Every word, every expression, every gesture mattered.
"So, you go to Westview Academy as well?" Adrian asked, settling across from me.
"Yes," I said. "We have a few classes together, though we haven't interacted much."
He smiled faintly. "That will have to change. My father speaks highly of your family."
The conversation continued, polite and measured. He asked about school, hobbies, and future plans. I answered carefully, aware of my father watching every reaction, gauging my performance.
"You seem… thoughtful," Adrian said quietly at one point. "Not like the others."
I blinked. "I suppose… we all have our ways of coping," I replied softly.
"Coping?" he repeated, curious.
"Yes," I said. "Life… sometimes requires it."
He nodded, his gaze lingering, perhaps sensing there was more I wasn't saying. I didn't explain. Some truths were too heavy, too complicated, to be revealed even in front of him.
Finally, the tea talk concluded. I excused myself, relieved to be free from another carefully choreographed encounter. The mansion, polished and pristine, felt heavier than usual as I moved toward the exit, toward the freedom that awaited me.
---
The streets were quieter now, evening settling softly over the city. I moved swiftly, slipping through back alleys I had memorized over years, until I reached the stairwell leading to my secret rooftop hideout.
The rooftop stretched wide, private and untouched, the city sprawling below. I leaned against the railing, exhaling deeply, letting the day's weight slide off my shoulders. For the first time all day, I could be Celeste no schedules, no expectations, no invisible eyes monitoring my every move.
From a distance, hidden in the shadows of nearby buildings, Jaden watched quietly. He had finished his last bakery deliveries, walking home through his neighborhood. He paused, noticing her silhouette above the city lights, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
She has her world… I have mine. But somehow… we're not that different.
Two lives, separate yet quietly mirroring each other, both carrying their own burdens, both longing for a moment of freedom. Even if they didn't know it yet, their evenings had aligned, if only for a few fleeting minutes, under the same stars.
---
From a distance, hidden in the shadows of nearby buildings, Jaden watched quietly. He had finished his last bakery deliveries, walking home through his neighborhood. He paused, noticing her silhouette above the city lights, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
She has her world… I have mine. But somehow… we're not that different.
Two lives, separate yet quietly mirroring each other, both carrying their own burdens, both longing for a moment of freedom. Even if they didn't know it yet, their evenings had aligned, if only for a few fleeting minutes, under the same stars.
---
(Jaden POV)
The day at Westview Academy had been like any other long, exhausting, and full of subtle reminders that I didn't quite belong. The teachers treated me kindly enough, but the other students… most barely acknowledged my presence. A scholarship could get you into the best schools, but it couldn't buy acceptance, popularity, or privilege.
I saw her in the halls during lunch, of course. Celeste Ashford, always perfectly poised, walking as if the world itself bent around her. She didn't notice me, naturally. I didn't belong in her world, and my scholarship, however prestigious, was invisible to her. I lingered a few steps behind, just far enough to see the effortless way she interacted with her friends, laughing lightly, her hair catching the sunlight in a way that seemed almost deliberate.
At the library, I focused on my assignments, pushing away the thoughts that wanted to wander toward her. My best friend, Marcus, sat across from me, scribbling notes for algebra.
"Man, you're quiet today," he said. "Something on your mind?"
"Just… tired, I guess," I replied, keeping my voice low. "School's rougher than usual."
He nodded, understanding. "Yeah… some people make it look easy, but it's not. Don't let it get to you."
I smiled faintly, returning to my notes. It wasn't just schoolwork. It was the constant feeling of being… separate. Always measured, compared, and seen as someone who had to prove he belonged.
When the final bell rang, I packed my bag slowly, watching as students who could afford taxis or drivers streamed out of the gates. I walked home instead, as I always did, stopping by the bakery to help my father deliver bread to the small shops scattered through the neighborhood.
"Jaden, be careful with that tray," my father said, handing me another batch.
"Don't worry," I replied with a grin, careful not to drop anything. I knew the streets like the back of my hand. By the time I finished, the afternoon sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows over the buildings.
After the deliveries, I wandered a bit through the neighborhood. Children waved as I passed, neighbors greeted me, and I felt a warmth I never experienced at school. Here, my presence mattered. People knew me, trusted me, respected me for what I did, not the money I had. It felt… real.
And yet, despite the familiarity of my world, my thoughts drifted back to her. Celeste. The way she moved through her day school, tea talks, lessons all planned, all observed. I could almost see the exhaustion in her movements, even if she hid it behind that perfect composure.
By evening, after finishing deliveries and helping my father, I made my way to the rooftop the small, quiet place I had found months ago, away from the noise of the streets. I liked coming here; it felt like the only corner of the world where I could think without pressure, without expectations.
As I climbed the final steps, I froze for a moment. She was already there. Celeste. Leaning against the railing, shoulders slumped slightly, as if the day's weight had finally caught up with her. The city lights shimmered behind her, casting her silhouette in soft gold.
I stayed back, careful not to startle her. Even in her exhaustion, she carried a presence that made the air feel heavier, more alive. I wanted to say something, even just a word, but I held it in. Not yet.
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I settled a few steps away, keeping my distance.
She has her rooftop… I have this moment. But somehow… we're not that different.
Two lives, now sharing the same space, quietly mirroring each other, each carrying burdens invisible to the rest of the world. Both longing for a moment of freedom. Even if they didn't know it yet, our evenings had aligned, if only for a few fleeting minutes, under the same stars.