Two lives.

16. Catching the Fade

May 17th

5:37 am

Waking up early today felt strange, like maybe it was some kind of sign to get ready for whatever the day had in store. "Ughhh," I groaned, dragging myself out of bed. Mornings had never been my thing, and I doubted that would change anytime soon. I figured if I got to the showers early, I could have a little peace before everyone else filled the bathrooms, so I grabbed my towel and the shower bag strewn across the floor of my messy room.

The hallways were quiet as I walked down, and I could almost understand why Ophelia liked being up this early. There was something peaceful about it—the rare calm before the usual storm of voices, laughter, and shuffling feet that would soon overtake the halls. It felt like a pocket of time that didn't belong to anyone else, just me and the quiet. The empty corridors and soft, early light streaming through the high windows made the place feel almost welcoming, as if I could move through it without the usual anxiety of being seen or judged.

As I got closer to the bathroom, I thought about how much I wanted to change, to start fresh here and make real friends, like Ophelia. But there was still that hesitation deep down—a part of me afraid of change, afraid of putting myself out there only to end up alone again. It felt safer to keep to myself, but I also knew I couldn't keep hiding if I wanted things to get better. Maybe being up early like this was the first step, a chance to clear my head and brace myself for the unknown.

Inside the bathroom, the air was warm and steamy, filling the space with a soft haze from an earlier shower. The quiet hum of fluorescent lights and the clean scent of soap mixed with a lingering faint perfume someone must have used. It felt comforting in a way, like a fresh start.

After my shower, I took a minute in front of the mirror, combing through my damp hair and studying my own reflection. It felt refreshing to be up and moving, like I was stealing extra hours from the day. I headed back to my room and took in the sight—it was messy, not dirty, but cluttered with clothes I'd worn once and tossed aside. Typical. I started gathering everything up, creating a little pile in the corner. "I wonder how laundry works here," I muttered, already planning to ask Ophelia later. She'd know the answer; she always seemed to have the inside scoop on everything.

Once I had most of my clothes stashed in one corner, I noticed my bag from when I first arrived, still half-packed on the floor. As I lifted it, something slipped out and rolled under the bed. "Damn it," I muttered, dropping to my knees to reach for it. My fingers grazed along the dusty floor until they finally landed on the small, familiar shape of my phone charger.

Relief washed over me. I'd been searching for this thing for days. My phone had died mid-text to Kayla the other day, just as I was trying to explain why I hadn't been responding. I'd felt a pang of guilt since, wondering if she thought I was ignoring her. I missed her, honestly—missed that sense of normalcy and familiarity. Even though being here was a chance to start fresh, part of me felt this subtle pull, like a thread still connecting me to the world I'd left behind.

I put the charger block into my wall and then plug my phone into the wall. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You know, I feel like I've met you before," I said to Ophelia, who was curled up next to me on the couch. We'd spent most of the day binging Loiter Squad, and our mutual love for Tyler, the Creator had somehow turned into a whole-day affair.

"Oh my god, I was thinking the same thing!" she replied, sitting up and grinning.

I chuckled, feeling a bit of nostalgia kick in. "You remind me of my friend back home, Kayla. You'd love her," I said, thinking back to the endless hours we'd spent at her house, lying on the floor and laughing at things that didn't even make sense in hindsight.