When She Gets Burned

Forbidden Connection

Alani woke up to the distant hum of the city outside her window, a constant reminder that another day was clawing its way into existence. She felt the weight of the night's shift at the bar still clinging to her bones, each ache and pain singing its own sad, tired song. Rolling over in her worn-out bed, she blinked away the remnants of sleep and tossed the tangled mess of her hair away from her face. Dragging herself out of bed, Alani stumbled towards the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face as if trying to wash away the residue of the night. The mirror reflected a tired but resilient face — eyes that had seen more than they should, and a spirit that refused to be extinguished. She couldn't afford the luxury of youth; she had bills to pay and dreams to chase, even if those dreams were elusive and distant. As the water ran, Alani gazed at herself, lost in thought. The note from the mystery man, Ezra, lay on the dresser like a riddle waiting to be solved. She picked it up, the paper slightly crumpled, evidence of a night spent tossing and turning. His name danced before her eyes – Ezra – a mystery wrapped in a man; a man wrapped in shadows. The warmth of the water couldn't wash away the thoughts that swirled in her mind. Ezra, the man with eyes that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand stories. The note was a lifeline to a world she hadn't dared to enter, a world beyond the smoky haze of the bar. She toyed with the idea of picking up the phone, of dialling those digits scrawled on the note. But reality crashed down like a ton of bricks. Ridiculous, she thought, rubbing her temples. He's a man with a life, a man who's seen more than my twenty-one years could fathom. What could he want with a girl who's only just begun to navigate the tangled mess of adulthood?

Alani sighed, the weight of her years settling on her shoulders. At twenty-one, she was older than most entering university, a choice she made to shield herself from a world that crumbled when her father walked away. Money was scarce, and she'd traded textbooks for bar tabs, clinging to the night as a shield against the day. The mystery man lingered in her thoughts, a puzzle she wasn't sure she wanted to solve. As she dressed for the first day of university, a clash of worlds awaited her – the dimly lit bar where she hid her scars, and the bright halls of academia where she sought refuge in the written word. The note lay on the dresser, a whisper of temptation in the sobering light of morning.

The university greeted Alani Holt with its concrete arms and buzzing corridors. The scent of academia wafted through the air – ink, old books, and the promise of new beginnings. She navigated the crowded hallways, feeling like a ship lost at sea, surrounded by eager faces and voices that seemed to echo with the confidence of those who knew where they belonged. She found herself in a classroom, her name on a desk that felt foreign beneath her fingertips. The wooden surface held the weight of dreams deferred and choices made under the dim glow of bar lights. Alani yearned for something more, something beyond the smoky haze of the night. As the professor droned on, Alani's mind drifted to the dusty corners of her ambition. The desire to be a writer, to create worlds with words, had always burned within her. The university was her chance to ignite that flame, to mould words into stories that echoed the complexities of her own tangled existence.

But fitting in wasn't as easy as slipping on a borrowed identity. The faces around her seemed to form a collective force field, an impenetrable barrier that repelled the solitary wanderer. Alani felt like an intruder, an outsider in a world that spoke a language she hadn't fully grasped. Then, there was Owen Vaughn – a self-absorbed beacon of privilege who floated through the halls like a ghost from another era. He approached Alani with a smile that seemed borrowed from a toothpaste commercial. "Hey there," he drawled, adjusting the collar of his crisp shirt. "Owen Vaughn, pleasure to meet you." His words oozed affluence, and his friendly demeanour concealed a detachment from the struggles of those who didn't come from old money. Alani, however, appreciated the lifeline in a sea of unfamiliar faces.