𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄, 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗼

01

THE WHOLE SUMMER BREAK had been a project in self-reinvention. You changed every little detail about yourself that you once despised.

You started with new glasses—round, all black with just a hint of gold on each side. They fit your face perfectly, lending you an air of maturity you had always longed for.

Next, you dyed your hair, a subtle shift that made your eyes pop. Piece by piece, you discarded every remnant of your old self. First the clothes, then the gestures, and finally, even the timid attitude that had defined you for so long.

Your phone had been ringing for ten minutes now, your hand instinctively hitting the snooze button on two alarms already.

With a groan, you kicked off the covers and sat up, rubbing your forehead. Your fingers brushed the familiar small scar, a relic of some forgotten childhood mishap.

Today was the first day back at school, and the sleepless night left you feeling disoriented.

You moved to the mirror, scrutinizing your reflection. Dark circles still clung under your eyes, but they weren't as pronounced as before.

You smiled faintly, tracing your fingers along the contours of your body, noticing how your waist had slimmed, how your posture had straightened. You looked... different.

Turning to your closet, you grabbed the outfit you'd laid out the day before: a beige plaid skirt and a white crewneck that just barely revealed the skirt's hem.

The look was simple yet classy, understated yet confident. You paired it with knee-high white boots, their low heels offering just enough height without sacrificing comfort.

Despite the end of summer, the day promised warmth, so you left your jacket hanging. The breeze against your skin felt like a promise of new beginnings.

Back in front of the mirror, you ran your hands through your hair, brushing it over one shoulder. You smiled again, wider this time.

Carefully, you placed a pink headband in your hair, the only relic of your old self that you couldn't quite part with.

Heels clicking on the marble stairs, you descended to the kitchen, eyes searching for the inevitable note from your parents.

There it was, in its usual spot on the table, a symbol of their absence. You didn't even bother to glance at it. Instead, you walked past, slamming the door behind you as you stepped outside.

As you made your way to the bus stop, nerves twisted in your stomach. You repeated silent mantras to yourself: You can do this.

You're strong. But doubts lingered. What if, once you stepped into the school, all your newfound confidence melted away, leaving you the shy, invisible girl you used to be?

The bus arrived, its doors hissing open. You climbed aboard, nodding at the driver. As you made your way down the aisle, you caught his muttered comment, crude and demeaning.

The words shot through you, igniting a spark of anger. You stopped, turned, and faced him with a smile that didn't reach your eyes. "Excuse me," you said, your voice dripping with false sweetness.

"If I ever hear you say something like that again, I'll make sure you never drive a bus in this city again." You let the threat hang in the air, enjoying the moment of silence that followed before you turned away.

The surge of confidence ebbed as you moved down the aisle, aware of the eyes tracking your movements. Shoulders slumping, you spotted the only available seat and sat down.

Moments later, the doors opened again, and someone nearly threw themselves into the bus. You didn't need to look up to know who it was. Matt.

"Sorry, sir, I slept in. Thanks for waiting," he said, his charm falling flat on the stoic driver. As he made his way down the aisle, he took the seat beside you.