on the edge

one - a glimpse of vulnerability

Do you ever wonder what your purpose in life is?

Y/N's thoughts often spiraled into a labyrinth of uncertainty, feeling like a ghost in a world brimming with laughter and happiness and light, drifting through her own life without purpose and belonging.

What does it mean to truly live? Why does she feel like an outsider in her own skin?

Clenching her fists tightly in reaction to the icy breeze, Y/N stands at the top of her apartment's rooftop, taking in the view of the skyline and the city below her. She had only come up here for some fresh air and calamity, but the longer she stood there looking down, she could feel the weight of her own insignificance.

Her eyes scan over the sidewalks below, vibrant storefronts and friends and families enjoying their night out on the town. Her eyes then drop directly down past her feet, staring at the pavement below her.

Perhaps the search for purpose and meaning isn't a destination. Instead, it's a journey through the unknown. But Y/N doesn't want to go through that journey at all. What if it's all for nothing, what's the point?

The sound of rustling can be heard behind her but she thinks nothing of it until a man's voice follows the sound.

"What are you waiting for?"

What? 

"No one will come and stop you if that's what you're waiting on." The voice speaks again.

Y/N doesn't bother to turn around and face this person, clenching her fists even tighter and squeezing her eyes shut. "I don't want to be stopped." she mutters with uncertainty, slightly annoyed with this person's commentary. Can't he see that she's having a midlife crisis here?

"Then why are you still standing there? Hurry up and jump."

Y/N's heart raced as the stranger's words hung in the air. She's hit with a wave of fear and a bit of anger.

What am I doing?

She snaps her eyes open and turns her head in the direction of the voice, she isn't able to see his face but this guy's identity is the least of her concerns at this moment.

"If you're gonna do it, do it." His voice carries no warmth, no compassion,just a cold and flat indifference. Y/N turns a bit more to completely look at him but can only see a shadowy figure leaning against the wall. His hands are stuffed into his coat pockets and he isn't even facing her, his gaze towards the skyline like her presence is an inconvenience to him.

Y/N finds the courage to respond. "What kind of a person says something like that?"

"The kind who's seen it all before." he responds with a shrug. "You're not special."

Y/N's lip quivers and she's been clenching her fists so hard that she didn't even realize that she'd broken the skin on her palms. She snaps. "What the hell is your problem?" 

"My problem?" he repeats back with a humorless laugh. "You're the one standing on the ledge of a rooftop. I don't have a problem."

Her eyes darted back down to the pavement below, her head spinning. The world feels both so far away yet so suffocatingly close at the same time. "Why are you even here then? Why say anything at all if you don't care."

He sighed, sounding bored. She could almost feel him shrugging again without even needing to look.
"You know," he finally replied, a strange edge to his voice, "you're wasting your time."

Y/N's shoulders tensed. "What are you talking about?"
"Standing up here, playing at whatever you're playing at. You're not going to do it. You don't want to do it. You just want a reason to feel something."

Her throat tightened, and she found herself looking back at him, unable to stop herself. His face was still obscured, but she could make out a faint outline now, his body leaned against the railing, dark and unfazed. "How could you possibly know that?"

He turned his head just enough for her to catch the outline of his jaw. "Because I've been there. And I know the difference."

Y/N swallowed, trying to make sense of the tangled mess of anger, embarrassment, and a strange curiosity in her chest. His words hit too close to home, and yet his coldness only fueled her frustration. But she didn't know what else to say. This stranger had walked in and dismantled her, just like that, and she had no defense.

"Who are you?" she asked finally, her voice barely a whisper.

For a long, tense moment, he said nothing. Then he pushed himself off the railing and walked away giving Y/N a quick glimpse of his face along with ash blonde locks, his steps echoing on the rooftop. "Just someone who doesn't have the patience for theatrics."

And with that, he disappeared down the stairwell, leaving her standing alone in the cold night air, more lost than ever.