Cracks in the Spotlight

10

The Fragile Sunshine

Eve's day began like any other, with the harsh ringing of his alarm dragging him out of a fitful sleep. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, not quite awake, but not exactly asleep either. The room was a mess, scattered with empty takeout boxes and crumpled clothes. He sat up slowly, rubbing his face, his thoughts still heavy with the weight of the night before. The past few weeks had been a blur of half-hearted work, misdirected anger, and confusion.

He couldn't help but think back to his 16th birthday. It had been the day after his mother passed away. Alone, with no family to comfort him, Eve had wandered the streets, feeling more isolated than ever. His heart still ached from the loss, the crushing emptiness of being left with nothing but memories. He had ended up sitting on the curb of a busy street, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to make sense of a world that suddenly felt so much darker.

It was then that he met her.

A figure appeared in front of him, her presence imposing despite her small frame. She was battered and bruised, her face marked with a few cuts and bruises, but her eyes-those sharp, unyielding eyes-were focused on him with an intensity that made him flinch.

"You're pathetic," she'd said, voice low and cutting. "Crying on your birthday like this. What a joke."

He had looked up, feeling both embarrassed and strangely intrigued. She hadn't waited for a reply, instead sitting next to him on the curb, her posture stiff and unapologetic.

"You know what?" she had continued, her words rough but strangely comforting. "People die. You either learn to deal with it, or you let it break you. You can either stand up, or you can stay down. But that's your choice, not anyone else's."

He didn't know why, but her words stuck with him. He never forgot that moment. And though he never saw her again, he felt her influence on him, every step of his life after that day. It was as though her bluntness had carved something inside him-a desire to rise above the pain, a need to prove that he could withstand anything. He admired her, even if she hadn't given him the comfort he'd hoped for.

The memory faded as Eve slowly pulled himself out of bed and began his routine. He spent the morning in an almost robotic haze-shower, breakfast, a quick scroll through his phone, ignoring the constant messages from his assistant, from Jane's assistant, from the media. He dressed quickly, shoving on whatever clothes were closest. His reflection in the mirror seemed unfamiliar, even to him-a shell of the boy he used to be.

Lunch was a lonely affair. He didn't have anyone to talk to, not that he could speak to Jane anyway. She had been distant, almost cold, since their last conversation. It felt as if something had shifted between them, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was his fault, maybe it was hers. Either way, the pain of being abandoned, even if it was just for a moment, still stung.

The evening crept up on him quickly, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of his fridge, realizing that he had no groceries left. He grabbed his jacket and headed out, running the errand he had been dreading all day. As he walked to the store, his mind wandered to Jane again-her stern, sharp gaze and the way she had always known how to control everything around her. He couldn't help but wish she had just... helped him more. But maybe he didn't deserve her help. He had made too many mistakes.

After grabbing what he needed, Eve walked home with his bag of groceries, the weight of it oddly comforting. But his peace was shattered when he heard footsteps behind him-too heavy, too fast. He turned just in time to see a group of guys, their faces hidden in the shadows, blocking his path.

"Hey, you," one of them said, stepping forward with a sneer. "What do you think you're doing? Walking around like you're somebody."

Eve's heart skipped a beat. The last thing he needed right now was trouble.

But trouble was what he got.

They shoved him to the ground, one of them grabbing the groceries and tossing them aside. The punches started coming fast, heavy, relentless. Eve didn't have the strength to fight back, his body bruised and battered by their fists. His vision blurred as he struggled to stay conscious, each hit bringing him closer to the edge of blackout.

His phone, which had fallen from his pocket, was now lying on the ground, screen cracked. With a final, desperate push, Eve reached for it, fingers trembling. His thumb tapped Jane's name, but it was too late. Through his half-closed eyes, was her name on the screen. And the sound of heels clicking rapidly against the pavement, rushing toward.

Eve's thoughts were a blur, tangled in a mess of confusion and pain. His body was bruised, his mind fractured, and yet, a part of him held onto something-something he couldn't quite let go of. He lay there, trying to reconcile the distance between himself and Jane, the gap that had grown so wide.

But as he thought of her, the overwhelming guilt in his chest gnawed at him. His mind raced with the bitter thought that he was losing her, that he had already lost her-and it hurt more than he was willing to admit. The agony of that loss weighed him down, pulling him deeper into himself, the pain in his body becoming secondary to the ache in his heart.

He didn't hear the soft footsteps approach, didn't feel the cool air shift as Jane appeared by his side until her voice broke through his haze. Her tone was sharp, deliberate, pretending to make a phone call. "I need help at [location]," she said clearly. "A man's been attacked-badly. I'll stay on the line."

The sound of her voice snapped him back to reality, and he could barely muster the strength to lift his head. He tried to speak, but his words were caught in his throat, choking him. He felt her presence like a beacon, but he wasn't sure if he was imagining it. Was she really here? Or was it just a fleeting dream?

Before he could process what was happening, her voice grew more insistent as she spoke to someone on the phone. The panic that had gripped him moments before subsided as the attackers fled. Jane's calm, commanding presence made them scatter.

Eve didn't have the strength to fight back the tears that threatened to spill. His only thought was that Jane had come for him-again. She had come for him, even when he had pushed her away.

When Jane's chauffeur arrived, she acted swiftly, loading him into the car without hesitation. Eve's body felt like dead weight, but he allowed her to handle him, to protect him in ways he never knew he needed.

As they drove, Eve's mind barely clung to consciousness. He wanted to say something-anything-that might change things between them. But the pain in his chest and the tears in his eyes made it impossible. The whole time, all he could think about was how he felt like he was losing her, how the space between them had grown too wide.

---

To be continued