shadows of perfection

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 1

The campus had only just begun to come alive as I took my usual seat on the stone bench beside the central fountain—my favorite spot to watch the world wake up.

The early morning always held a suspended quiet; only a few students strolled along the pathways, murmuring conversations between those who already knew each other, lost in recounting last night's tales or planning for the day ahead.

It was precisely in these moments that I felt I could slow down too, safe from the frenzy, the pressure, and the constant scrutiny.

The campus, with its red-brick buildings and ivy-covered towers, seemed to belong to another world, a universe with its own set of rules and traditions layered over time.

It was a place steeped in prestige and expectation; to me, more than anyone else, it meant constantly proving myself worthy, without room for error.

I took a deep breath, trying to let go of the tight feeling in my chest, but with little success. There was never a moment when I felt truly free from that pressure, from the invisible gaze that reminded me of who i was supposed to be—perfect and flawless, always and without exception.
My mother's visit scheduled for today certainly wouldn't help.

"Leila!" Emma's unmistakable voice sounded from behind, making me smile automatically, as always.
I turned to see her approaching with her usual bright expression, a colorful scarf wrapped around her neck like a splash of vitality against the campus's oppressive formality.

Emma Harper was an irreplaceable presence in my life.
If my existence was governed by rules and discipline, she was the spontaneous side, the free spirit who always managed to make me smile and remind me that there was more to life than the perfection i was so desperately trying to embody.

"I can't believe you're already here, sitting and ready to face the world before eight in the morning!" she remarked, eyebrows raised. "Anyway, I thought you'd need this." She handed me one of the two coffee cups she was holding, and I took it, grateful, nodding in appreciation.

"Thank you. My mother's visiting today, you know..." I said, clutching the cup as if to absorb all the warmth I could.
Just the thought of seeing her sent chills down my spine.

Emma nodded in silence, aware of what that visit implied.
Even without my explanation, she knew what it meant to have a mother like mine—a woman who accepted no deviations from the path she had mapped out for me. "I already know it's going to be a long day," I added with a sigh, looking at the water's surface in the fountain.

"Oh, I know those kinds of stories all too well," Emma said, a touch of sarcasm in her voice that made me smile slightly.

She had a way of lightening even the heaviest situations.
I had always thought that if I were ever to confide my secret to anyone, it would be her.

Just then, I spotted Ryan Blake, Alex's best friend, walking by with his hoodie up and his gaze lost in thought.
It wasn't common to see him on campus this early.
He was always quiet and reserved, yet his presence never went unnoticed; there was a calm determination about him, as if he owed explanations to no one.

I couldn't help it—my attention drifted instinctively, searching for Alex as though his appearance were an actual possibility.

Our encounters were rare and coincidental, yet each time our eyes met, a mixture of tension and curiosity sparked within me.

"Don't tell me you were looking for someone?" Emma asked, a hint of barely concealed curiosity in her voice as she followed my gaze.

"No, just a habit," I said, trying to hide my reaction. But Emma knew me too well to believe that.

Before she could press further, our conversation was interrupted by another familiar presence with an entirely different effect: Chris Taylor.

With his confident smile and flawless appearance, Chris was the kind of model young man any parent would want beside their daughter.
And he was exactly the kind my mother had in mind for me.

"Leila! So, we're still on for the student committee meeting later, right?" he said, stopping in front of us.
His voice had that hint of formality that always put me on edge, as though each sentence were carefully rehearsed.

"Yes, of course, Chris. See you there," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral.
I knew Chris wasn't a bad person, but there was always something artificial about the way he acted with me, as if his goal wasn't to truly know me but rather to follow a script written for him.

"Perfect," he said, walking away with a nod. As soon as he was out of earshot, Emma leaned close and whispered, "Chris is adorable, but... you feel it too, right? There's something unsettling about him."

"Exactly," I whispered back, nodding. "It's like he's always trying to please someone. He never seems... genuine."

At that moment, my gaze wandered beyond Emma and landed on a figure approaching with a slow, confident stride.

It was Alex. The guy who, without doing anything overtly provocative, managed to draw the attention of everyone who passed by. Tattoos, a cigarette between his fingers, and an intense gaze.

His presence clashed sharply with the campus environment, and perhaps that was precisely why I couldn't look away.

I watched as he cast a quick glance in my direction, a slight nod as if daring me.
I felt a wave of warmth flood through me and had to lower my gaze, hoping Emma wouldn't notice.

"Leila?" Emma pulled me back to reality. "Were you looking at Alex?"

"Just by chance," I tried to reply, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.

Emma sighed. "Please, tell me you're not taking that glance seriously."
Her tone was that of a worried mother.

"Emma, you know I'm not that kind of girl. But... there's something about him that's hard to ignore," I admitted softly, unable to hide the truth.
Each encounter, each look with Alex left me with a sense of unease and desire I had never felt before.

"Leila, be careful," she told me seriously. "That guy is nothing like us."

I wanted to respond, but just then I saw Professor Evelyn Amora walking down the hallway, talking to Alex and Ryan.

Professor Amora was one of the few teachers who seemed to see something more in Alex beyond his exterior.

Her gentle, reassuring voice drifted over as she tried to convince Alex to take part in a literature project.

It was clear that she cared about him, perhaps the only person on campus who looked at him without judgment.

Before leaving, Alex turned toward me one more time, giving me one last penetrating look that seemed to hold a promise.

I didn't know what lay behind those eyes, but one thing was certain: Alex was like a forbidden flame, and I felt unable to resist the temptation of drawing closer.