Echoes of a Silent Beat

Chapter 1: A Virus?

The campus buzzed with excitement as Foundation Week kicked off today. It was the first time in years that we were able to celebrate something like this, the kind of event that everyone had missed during the long months of the pandemic. As a member of the Student Council, I had been up since the crack of dawn, helping to organize the stage, making sure the activities ran smoothly, and troubleshooting any last-minute issues that popped up. It was exhausting work, but there was something about the energy in the air that kept me going.

By the time the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the campus, the day's last activity was ready to begin—a friendly dance competition among the different colleges.

"Trish! Over here!" Angel called out, waving excitedly. I spotted her, Gab, and Mina near the front, where they had saved me a spot. I hurried over and joined them, eager to see what the dance troupe had prepared.

The lights dimmed, and the murmurs of the crowd quieted to a hush. The stage came alive with music, and one by one, the dancers stepped into the spotlight, moving with a grace and precision that made it impossible to look away. Each dancer had their own style, their own flair, but it wasn't long before my attention zeroed in on one dancer in particular. She didn't just move; she glided across the stage with an effortless fluidity, her presence commanding it as if it had been made just for her.

She was undeniably cool—the kind of cool that drew you in without even trying. Her short hair swayed with each sharp turn, catching the light at just the right moments, accentuating the lines of her body as she moved. There was a natural swagger in her steps, an edge to her every motion that set her apart from the rest. The other dancers were talented, no doubt, but she had something different—a raw intensity that blended power and elegance into a mesmerizing performance.

My eyes were glued to her—captivated by the way she seemed to embody the music, her every movement a perfect synchronization of strength and grace. She leaped and spun with such precision and freedom that it felt like she was dancing for herself, yet somehow, it felt like she was dancing just for me, even though I was just one face in a sea of spectators. She had this aura that pulled you in, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

"Who is she?" I blurted out, unable to tear my gaze away.

Angel glanced at me, following my line of sight. "Oh, that's Lexie. I think she's one of the officers in the dance troupe. Maybe the Vice President or something?"

"Yeah," Gab chimed in. "I've seen her around a few times. She's really good, isn't she?"

"Good?" I thought to myself, "She's incredible." But all I managed was a nod, still entranced by the way Lexie moved on stage. I had never seen someone dance like that before—not in real life, at least. There was something mesmerizing about her, something that made it impossible to look anywhere else.

After that day, it became impossible not to think about her. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Lexie on that stage, moving with that same effortless grace. It was like she had imprinted herself on my mind, a memory that refused to fade.

The moment I got home, I couldn't help myself. I grabbed my phone and immediately started searching for the dance troupe's page on social media. Maybe, just maybe, I could find out more about her. I scrolled through their posts, looking for any mention of her, any sign that could lead me to her account.

My heart raced as I combed through the comments and likes, hoping to find a username that matched. I clicked on profile after profile, my excitement building with each tap. And then, I found it—a comment on one of their latest posts, thanking everyone for supporting the troupe.