Golden Melody

Chapter 2.5

Miexha Verra

Her Pov

As the applause died down, I scanned the crowd, my eyes searching for a familiar face.

Then, I saw him, standing near the back of the room, his gaze fixed on me.

It was Riel.

He was undeniably handsome.
His naturally blonde hair was long, often pulled back in a loose ponytail that framed his face.

His blue eyes, the color of a summer sky, seemed to hold a depth that I couldn't quite decipher.

Honestly, I could stare at him all day and not get bored.

But there was something about him, something that made me feel both drawn to him and apprehensive.
Was he the same boy who had comforted me at the Christmas Ball?

He met my gaze, and a flicker of something crossed his eyes.

It was a mixture of emotions, a blend of curiosity, concern, and something else I couldn't quite place, something that made my heart skip a beat.

It was a feeling I hadn't experienced before, a strange mix of excitement and trepidation.
Was he truly interested in me, or was it just another fleeting encounter in this world of superficiality?

Then, he smiled.

It was a small smile, but it was genuine, a smile that reached his eyes and lit up his face.
It was a smile that said,

"I'm happy for you." It was a smile that said,
"You're not alone."

And in that moment, all my fears melted away.
It was as if a weight had been lifted from my chest, a weight I hadn't even realized I was carrying.
I knew that he was happy for me.
He was happy that I was shining, that I was finding my own light.

And for the first time, I felt a flicker of hope, a spark of warmth that spread through my chest.
It was a feeling that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as lost as I thought I was.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a place for me in this world, a place where I could be seen and understood, a place where I could truly belong.

I wanted to run towards him, to ask him what he was thinking, to see if he truly understood me, but my feet were frozen in place.
I was caught between two worlds, two realities, and I didn't know which one to choose.

Was he my escape from this suffocating existence, or was he just another part of the world I felt so lost in?

The questions swirled in my mind, unanswered, leaving me with a sense of uncertainty and longing.
I needed to know, but I was afraid to ask.
I was afraid of the answer, afraid of the truth.

But I knew that I couldn't ignore the pull I felt towards him, the glimmer of hope that he represented in this world that felt so cold and empty.

I watched him from afar, my heart pounding in my chest. 

The way he commands at the student council, the way his hair fell over his forehead, the way he was so effortlessly charming. 

I was drawn to him, but I was also afraid of him, afraid of what he might represent, afraid of what he might mean to me.

Then I saw him talking to Mr. Wov, my stomach is twisting. 

He was his son, the son of the man who keeps calling my Mom. 
I hated him for stealing my limited time with her. 

But Zatariel, I may hate your Dad, but I am still interested in you.

With a deep breath, I gathered all the confidence I could muster and walked towards him. 

Mr. Wov was still beside him, his hand on Zatariel's shoulder. 

"Hi!" I said, forcing a smile.
"Thank you for coming to my birthday."

Zatariel just nodded, his eyes darting away from mine. 

He mumbled,
"Ha-Happy birthday Mi-mi," I couldn't Hear his voice, I just read his lips. 

He looks so nervous, like he wanted to escape, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. 
I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, from embarrassment my heart sinking. 

Mr. Wov, with a nervous chuckle, said,
"Zat, uh, just... just be yourself.  But, you know, maybe... maybe try to make eye contact.  And... and smile.  Yeah, that's it.  Smile!  Girls like guys who smile." He looked at me, then back at his son, his face a mixture of confusion and desperation, making me feel like I was caught in the middle of a father-son therapy session.

"Mimi!" Zatariel called out, his voice shaky. 
"A gift."  He handed me a small box, a book with a faded, worn cover. 
"It's a book about... about...  being brave."  He looked away, his cheeks flushed.

"It's a classic!" Mr. Wov interjected, giving Zatariel a playful pat on the back.
"A real page-turner."

Before I could utter a word, Zatariel snatched the book back, his eyes wide with panic.
He returned the book back in my hand and ran, disappearing into the crowd.

I stood there, speechless, the book clutched in my hand.

Was he playing pranks on me?