Selene Voss was twelve years old when she first realized the world didn't make sense.
It was a humid summer afternoon, the kind where the air clung to your skin like a second layer.
She sat cross-legged on the floor of her family's sprawling but eerily quiet home, her small
hands resting on the keys of the old upright piano that had been gathering dust in the corner of
the living room. Her parents were gone—again. They were always gone, off to some business
meeting or social event that never seemed to include her. Her older brother, Adrian, was holed
up in his room, as usual, the faint thrum of his bass guitar vibrating through the walls.
Selene didn't mind the solitude. In fact, she preferred it. The silence gave her room to think, to
breathe, to create. That day, she had decided to teach herself how to play the piano. She didn't
know where to start, so she just pressed the keys, one by one, listening to the way each note
resonated in the empty room. It was clumsy at first, her fingers fumbling over the unfamiliar
terrain. But then, something clicked. A melody began to form, simple and raw, but hers.
For the first time in her life, Selene felt like she belonged—not to her family, not to the world
outside, but to herself. ---
Four years later, Selene stood at the edge of the high school courtyard, her backpack slung
over one shoulder and her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her oversized hoodie. The air
buzzed with the energy of first-day jitters, clusters of students laughing and shouting as they
reunited after the summer. Selene watched them from a distance, her expression unreadable
behind the curtain of her dark hair.
She didn't belong here.
The thought wasn't new—it had been her constant companion for as long as she could
remember. Her family's estrangement had always set her apart, their absence a gaping hole
she'd learned to navigate on her own. Her parents were more like distant acquaintances than
family, their interactions limited to the occasional dinner where they exchanged polite but hollow
pleasantries. Adrian, now in college, had become a ghost, his presence reduced to the
occasional text message or late-night phone call.
Selene had grown used to the loneliness. She wore it like armor, shielding herself from the
world outside. But high school was different. It was louder, brighter, more suffocating. The halls
were a maze of lockers and laughter, the classrooms filled with faces she didn't recognize and
didn't care to know.
She made her way to her first class, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. The teacher, a
middle-aged woman with a kind smile, greeted her warmly, but Selene barely acknowledged
her. She took a seat at the back of the room, her gaze fixed on the window as the other students
filed in.
The day passed in a blur of introductions and syllabi, the monotony broken only by the
occasional whisper or sidelong glance in her direction. Selene ignored them all, retreating into
the safety of her own thoughts.
By the time the final bell rang, she was exhausted. She slipped out of the building unnoticed,
her footsteps quickening as she made her way to the one place she felt at ease—the old music
room at the back of the school.
The room was small and dimly lit, its walls lined with instruments in various states of disrepair. In
the corner sat a piano, its surface scratched and worn but still beautiful in its own way. Selene
ran her fingers over the keys, the familiar weight of them grounding her.
She sat down and began to play, the notes spilling out of her like a floodgate had been opened.
The melody was haunting, a reflection of the emotions she couldn't put into words. For a
moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only her and the music.
But then, the door creaked open.
Selene's hands stilled, her heart pounding in her chest. She turned, her eyes narrowing as a
figure stepped into the room.
It was a girl, about her age, with wild curls and a paint-splattered jacket. She grinned, her eyes
sparkling with mischief.
"Didn't mean to interrupt," she said, her voice warm and teasing. "But that was... incredible."
Selene stared at her, unsure how to respond. The girl didn't seem to mind her silence. She
crossed the room and leaned against the piano, her gaze fixed on Selene.
"I'm Lila," she said, extending a hand. "And you are?"
Selene hesitated, then shook her hand. "Selene."
Lila's grin widened. "Well, Selene, I think you just made my day."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Selene felt something stir inside her—a flicker of
warmth, of connection. She didn't know what to make of it, but for now, she allowed herself to
bask in the moment.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a golden glow, Selene played on, the
notes weaving a story of loneliness, longing, and the faintest glimmer of hope.
And for the first time, she didn't feel quite so alone. ---
The days that followed were a blur of routine and quiet rebellion. Selene moved through the
halls of the high school like a shadow, her presence barely registering with the other students.
She attended her classes, completed her assignments, and retreated to the music room
whenever she could.
Lila became a constant in her life, a burst of color in her otherwise monochrome world. She was
an artist, her hands always stained with paint, her mind brimming with ideas and dreams. She
had a way of seeing the world that was both refreshing and overwhelming, and Selene found
herself drawn to her in ways she couldn't quite explain.
They spent hours in the music room, Lila sketching while Selene played. The melodies she
created were a reflection of her inner turmoil, a symphony of loneliness and longing. But with
Lila by her side, the music began to change. It became lighter, more hopeful, as if the weight on
her chest had been lifted, even just a little.
One afternoon, as the sun streamed through the windows, casting the room in a warm, golden
light, Lila set down her sketchpad and turned to Selene.
"You know," she said, her voice soft, "you don't have to do this alone."
Selene's fingers stilled on the keys, her heart skipping a beat. She looked at Lila, her eyes
searching for something—understanding, perhaps, or reassurance.
"I don't know how to let anyone in," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lila smiled, a small, sad smile that spoke of understanding and compassion. "You don't have to
figure it out all at once," she said. "But you don't have to be alone, either."
Selene's chest tightened, the weight of Lila's words pressing down on her. She wanted to
believe her, to let herself be vulnerable, but the fear was still there, a constant reminder of the
pain she had endured.
"I'll try," she said finally, her voice trembling.
Lila's smile widened, and she reached out, her hand resting on Selene's for a brief moment.
"That's all I ask," she said.
As the days turned into weeks, Selene found herself opening up, little by little. She still carried
the weight of her past, the scars of her loneliness, but with Lila by her side, the burden felt a
little lighter.
And for the first time in a long time, Selene allowed herself to hope—to dream of a future where
she didn't have to face the world alone.
But for now, she played, letting the music carry her through the days, and into the unknown.