Between Screens and Hearts

Chapter 3: Heaved Sigh

The morning sun peeked through the heavy clouds as Dean Rivero sat in his usual spot near the back of the classroom. His head was tilted down, eyes fixed on his notebook, but he wasn't paying much attention to the lecture. He scribbled absent-mindedly, doodling small figures on the edge of the page, his mind far away from the math problems in front of him.

He had been up late the night before, streaming on ReAL as Epitaph, reading more of his unfinished work, and pulling that ridiculous voice prank. The virtual world was his escape—a place where he could shed the weight of real-life struggles, like his classes, his family's strained dynamics, or his lingering self-doubt.

But today, the noise of real life was seeping back in.

"Dean," a voice called from the front of the room, sharp and insistent. "Dean Rivero, are you even paying attention?"

He looked up quickly, meeting the stern gaze of his math professor, Ms. Aquino. A few students turned to glance at him, some snickering under their breath.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, Ms. Aquino," he muttered, straightening up in his seat, even though his attention was still elsewhere. His cheeks flushed slightly, embarrassed by the attention.

Ms. Aquino sighed, her tone exasperated. "If you're not going to listen, at least try not to distract the others."

Dean nodded quickly, hoping she'd move on. His gaze drifted back to his notebook as the classroom noise settled. He wasn't exactly bad at math—just distracted. Distracted by a million things that had nothing to do with school. His mind was still wrapped up in the life of Epitaph and the weight of unfinished projects as Finale.

But school was the least of his problems.

~~~

Across town, at an entirely different college, Saffron Andrews tapped her fingers impatiently against her desk. She was seated in the front row, as always, her full attention locked onto the professor's words. Yet, underneath her diligent exterior, she was restless. The day had barely started, and already she was itching for something exciting to happen. Her morning classes felt like a drag, and the upcoming lunch with her parents wasn't exactly something she was looking forward to.

She glanced at her phone, sneaking a quick look at ReAL notifications. Epitaph's latest stream had gone live, and she hadn't been there to catch it. A part of her felt disappointed. She loved watching his streams—his voice, his stories, the way he effortlessly created a mysterious atmosphere. It was all so captivating. And his silly prank last night? That had been a fun twist.

But real life, as always, pulled her back in. She sighed, pushing her phone into her bag as the professor finished his lecture.

As the students filed out of the classroom, Saffron gathered her things and prepared herself for lunch with her parents—her father, Daniel Andrews, the ever-jolly, well-meaning man who worked in finance, and her mother, Margaret Andrews, the strict, no-nonsense woman who always made Saffron feel like she had to prove herself.

~~~

Back at home, Dean found himself at the kitchen table, stirring a bowl of cereal while his mother, Angela Rivero, moved about the room in silence. The tension between them was palpable, a subtle but constant presence in the household. It wasn't that they didn't love each other—it was that they rarely saw eye to eye. And when they did speak, it usually ended in an argument.

"You're always staying up late," his mother commented as she passed by the table. "I don't know what you're doing, but it's not helping you at school."

Dean kept his eyes down, not wanting to engage. "I'm fine, Mom."

Angela stopped in her tracks, turning to face him with arms crossed. "Fine? Dean, you're barely passing your classes. You're never home, and when you are, you're locked up in your room. You need to focus on what's important."

"What's important, huh?" Dean muttered, dropping his spoon into the bowl with a clatter. "You mean, like school? Or like whatever you think I should be doing with my life?"

Angela's expression hardened. "Don't get smart with me. I know what's best for you."

"No, you don't," Dean shot back, his voice rising in frustration. "You think I don't know what I'm doing, but I do. You don't even care what I want."

The silence between them was thick. Angela opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Dean stood up abruptly, grabbing his jacket off the chair. "I'm going out," he said flatly, leaving the kitchen before she could stop him.

~~~

Saffron sat across from her parents at their usual table in the cafe they frequented. Her father was chatting away about his latest project at work, his cheerful demeanor filling the air. Her mother, meanwhile, sat quietly, sipping her tea with a look of constant disapproval.

"I heard about the art exhibit at school," Margaret said suddenly, turning her sharp gaze toward Saffron. "I expect you'll be entering something worthwhile?"

Saffron shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I'm working on it," she said, even though she hadn't actually decided what she'd submit yet.

"You should take it more seriously, Saffron. You have real talent, but if you don't apply yourself, you'll never get anywhere," Margaret continued, her tone as strict as always.

"I know, Mom," Saffron said, trying to keep her voice steady. Her father gave her a sympathetic smile, but it wasn't enough to dispel the weight of her mother's expectations.

As they continued their conversation, Saffron felt her phone buzz in her bag. She discreetly pulled it out and saw a notification from ReAL. Epitaph was streaming again tonight. Just the thought of it made her feel lighter, like she had something to look forward to beyond the heavy expectations of her family.

~~~

Hours later, Dean found himself in the downtown district, his hood pulled up and his face hidden behind his mask. He had needed to get out of the house, away from the constant arguments and expectations. The streets were busy with people, students from nearby colleges, and locals going about their day.

His thoughts were a jumble as he walked, but the fresh air was helping clear his mind. He pulled out his phone and checked the time. He still had a few hours before he had to stream as Epitaph, but already, his mind was drifting toward ReAL and the comfort it provided.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice when someone brushed past him.

"Sorry!" a voice called out, snapping Dean out of his daze. He glanced up, just in time to see a girl with long black hair, dressed in casual but stylish clothing, hurrying past him.

It was Saffron.

They both stopped for a moment, their eyes meeting briefly. Saffron noticed the black mask covering half of Dean's face, but paid no mind to it. The interaction was fleeting, just a moment of passing strangers, but something lingered in the air as they continued on their separate ways.

Dean watched her walk away, something about the moment tugging at him, but he couldn't place what it was. With a small shake of his head, he continued down the street, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Saffron, meanwhile, couldn't shake the odd feeling from that brief encounter. She continued walking, her mind turning over the image of the masked guy she had bumped into. It was probably nothing—just another student in the crowded city. But still, something about him felt oddly familiar.

She brushed the thought aside and made her way to the art supplies store, determined to focus on her next project. Yet, in the back of her mind, the thought of ReAL and Epitaph lingered, pulling her into the digital world she loved to escape into.