Alright, let’s keep it real. Back then, I used to dream of this girl.
Not just once, but a few times.
We’d travel together — different places, random scenarios — like she was just there.
We’d go on adventures, and I felt something with her. A connection I couldn’t explain.
But one day, everything clicked.
I saw her face clearly.
She had a strong jawline, her hair pulled back in a clutcher.
We were in a classroom. I was watching her, but I felt like I was on the verge of tears in that dream.
And for some reason, I had this deep feeling that she was helping me, though I couldn’t understand how.
I wasn’t crying because of sadness — just overwhelmed.
Maybe it was something inside me, maybe not. I don’t know. But it felt real.
I woke up with that feeling still stuck in me.
Who was she?
Why did I feel like I knew her?
Why did I feel like she was somehow guiding me?
I didn’t dwell on it too much, but it stayed with me. A kind of strange sense of… curiosity.
I headed to school that day, like every other day.
I was alone. I always was.
I spent my time at the back of the class, away from everyone.
No one hated me directly, but no one really cared either. I was just there, fading into the background.
I had 2–3 friends, but they were busy with their own circles, so I sat in my little bubble — alone, as usual.
The feeling of being unseen, unnoticed, was a heavy one.
School sucked.
I hated it.
I spent most of my days staring out the window, wishing time would move faster, wishing I could escape.
Then, months passed, and school finally ended.
But the feeling of being lost didn’t end with it.
I wasn’t exactly proud of my body — still fat, still figuring things out.
But I started working out.
Not jacked or anything, but I was doing something.
I joined an institute too, something my dad forced me to do.
I never understood why we had to study and follow these rigid paths. I just wanted to chase dreams, make beautiful things, like cars, freedom.
But I did it anyway. It was the best I could do.
I was also trying my hand at business.
It was going okay — not great, but I was hustling.
And then one day, I found myself in the metro, like always — just another boring day, heading somewhere.
The train stopped, and I rushed toward the exit.
I didn’t think anything of it. Just routine.
I stepped into the lift.
As usual, I lowered my head.
Trying not to look at anyone. Trying not to make it weird.
But then something happened. Something that changed everything.
