The alarm starts ringing.

  An unbearable sound.

  I really should change it — it sounds like a duck choking.

  I grab my phone and turn it off.

  6:30 a.m. on a Monday.

  The first of many.

  My first day of school.

  New class. I only know Mike.

  I get up, make my bed, and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.

  After that, I go to the kitchen.

  I notice my mom is the only one home, so I ask:

  Leo: Where's Dad?

  Mom: He left as soon as he got up. Didn't say anything. Just left.

  Leo: He's still acting like that?

  Mom: What do you think? — she answers with a sharp tone.

  I start to get irritated, so I stay quiet and make myself breakfast.

  A bowl of cereal with milk.

  A timeless classic.

  After I eat, I take the bowl to the sink, put away the milk and cereal, and go to my room to get dressed.

  I pick a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt from my closet.

  Yeah, basic.

  But it's the first day. I'm not showing up in a suit and tie.

  I fix my hair, brush my teeth again, pack my bag, and say goodbye.

  Leo: Bye, Mom. See you later.

  Mom: Bye, sweetheart. See you soon.

  I give her a hug and head out.

  I walk a bit until I reach the bus stop near the crepe shop.

  School's kind of far — I could walk, but if I take the bus, I can meet up with Mike.

  After a few minutes, the bus arrives.

  I get on and say good morning to the driver.

  It's a bit full, but there are still some seats left.

  I walk to the back and see Mike looking out the window.

  Luckily, the seat next to him is free. I sit down.

  He looks over and smiles.

  Mike: So, "Leonard, the king of walking decided to take the bus?

  Leo: Sadly, yeah. I could've walked and spared myself from seeing your horrible face.

  But it looked like it might rain, and I didn't want to take the risk — I said, nearly laughing.

  Mike: Real funny.

  The sun's blazing — at least lie better — he said with a grin.

  Mike: So... things still weird at home? — he asked awkwardly, trying not to seem nosy.

  Leo: He still doesn't talk to anyone. Left this morning without saying a word.

  He went quiet for a moment.

  Didn't know what to say.

  Then he remembered something and changed the subject.

  Mike: Let's forget about that. New class, first day, my man. You excited? — he said, smiling.

  Leo: Honestly... yeah. I think it'll be fun. But we'll see. You're the only one I know in class.

  MIke: Chill, bro. You know me and I know you. We'll meet more people.

  I just hope the teachers aren't total sons of bi—

  Leo: Watch your language — I said with a smile.

  Mike: Fair. I'll save the swearing for when they actually piss me off.

  After a while, we finally arrive.

  I feel calm. Just another normal day. Maybe it really is.

  We head to our classroom — second floor, up a terribly built staircase.

  When we enter, a few students are already seated.

  Mike spots an empty table, and we sit there.

  We wait as more people arrive.

  There's a lot — around 26.

  I know, weirdly specific.

  But trust me, I didn't count.

  We listen to music and scroll on our phones until finally, a teacher walks in.

  A medium-height man with a white beard, slightly long gray hair, round glasses, a brown sweater, and blue dress pants.

  Professor: Good morning, everyone! Welcome to the start of a long journey.

  My name is Sean Williams — but you can call me Mr. Williams. I'll be one of your teachers.

  Please put away your electronic devices. We're going to introduce ourselves to one another.

  And there it was — the boring, generic, awkward, and unbearably cringey first-day ritual.

  The classic: "Hi, I'm blah blah blah, I'm blah years old, and I like blah blah blah."

  No one enjoys this.

  But Mr. Williams seemed nice.

  Then we met the other teachers.

  All a bit boring.

  But not *too* boring.

  A tolerable level of boring.

  The first day came to an end.

  While packing our stuff, I looked at Mike.

  Leo: Looks like you'll have plenty of chances to curse at teachers.

  Mike: No doubt. Especially the math one. She already looked at me like I killed her cat.

  I laughed.

  We grabbed our things and headed home.

  Point of View – Maxine

  The day had been tense. It had been a while since I had to do those ridiculous introductions.

  But the class and the teachers seemed alright.

  I was at the school gate, heading home, when I felt a light, gentle tap on my left shoulder.

  Marta: Easy, speedy. You're not gonna wait for me anymore?

  Max: You spent twenty minutes kissing your boyfriend.

  Did you want me to just stand there and watch?

  Marta: The way you said that makes it sound kinda creepy...

  Max: Because it is.

  She laughed, and we walked home together.

  Well — to be fair — her house is on the same way to my grandparents' place.

  So we always walk together.

  We started chatting about the day and the class.

  Max: So? Did you like the new class?

  Marta: Maybe.

  There are some girls who seem cool.

  And the teachers could've been worse.

  Max: The teachers don't seem bad.

  Mr. Williams seems sweet.

  Marta: He really does. He's always so cheerful.

  I bet his classes are fun.

  Max: Probably.

  So you've already made friends with every girl in class?

  Marta: Rude. I just talked to a few and said they seemed nice.

  We should all hang out this weekend — get to know each other better.

  Max: That sounds fun.

  But I'm going to my dad's place this weekend.

  Marta: Ugh. Poor you.

  Max: Yeah. Me too — I sighed.

  Marta: Don't worry, we'll pick another day.

  Max: Okay. Just make sure to pick the right—

  My phone started ringing.

  I pulled it out of my pocket. It was my grandfather. I answered right away.

  Max: Hey, Grandpa... I'm walking home with Marta...

  No, I just— wait, I— okay, I'll be there in five.

  Marta: ...

  Max: We should probably walk faster — I said with a smile, just to keep it from getting awkward.

  Marta: Don't worry. We're already close to my house anyway.

  We picked up the pace and got to Marta's house quickly.

  We hugged goodbye, and I went the rest of the way alone.

  It took me a few more minutes, but I made it home.

  I have my own key, so I opened the door.

  My grandfather was sitting on the couch watching TV, and my grandma was cooking dinner.

  He looked at me and said:

  Grandpa: Took you long enough.

  If you do that again, I'm coming to get you myself.

  Max: Sorry. Marta's place is on the way, and we walk together.

  She just took a while to leave.

  Grandpa: Then start making new friends who don't take forever.

  I went to the kitchen, hugged my grandma, then headed to my room to grab my things and take a shower.

  After my shower, I joined them for dinner.

  They were already sitting at the table waiting.

  My grandpa was visibly impatient from waiting too long.

  During dinner, I told them how the first day went.

  Grandpa said the teachers sounded like idiots.

  Grandma said the class looked like a bunch of delinquents.

  I finished my meal — I was starving.

  We had pasta with tomato sauce and sausages.

  I love pasta with tomato sauce and sausages.

  After dinner, I went to my room to read a book I'd bought recently: Love & Gelato.

  I was loving it.

  I read for a few hours, until Grandma walked into my room with a sad look on her face.

  Grandma: Your mom won't be able to come home tomorrow.

  The client asked her to stay longer on the project.

  I'm sorry, sweetie.

  I didn't know what to say.

  She left the room.

  I put the book away.

  I didn't feel like reading anymore.

  I didn't feel like doing anything.

  Another week without seeing my mom.

  I felt like crying.

  But I held it in.

  I took a deep breath.

  Brushed my teeth.

  Said goodnight to my grandparents.

  And went to bed.

  That day was already lost.

  No point dwelling on it.

  I have to move on.

  Point of View - Leonard

  It's been a few days since school started.

  I still haven't gotten used to the rhythm.

  Waking up early sucks. And the classes are painfully boring.

  Except for Mr. Williams's.

  He's our homeroom teacher and art teacher.

  He can make any subject feel exciting.

  But things have gotten so intense that the teachers have already scheduled tests for the whole term.

  These people really love their jobs.

  It was just another day.

  I'd come home from school after a beautifully terrible math class.

  I was in my room playing video games when my mom came in.

  Mom: Leonard, can you go to the store for me today?

  Leo: Sure. Where's the list?

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  She handed me a massive shopping list. And I'd have to carry everything on my own.

  Usually, my parents did the shopping by car.

  But right now, my dad's locked himself in the bedroom. He hasn't spoken to anyone in two weeks.

  I went to my closet, got dressed, grabbed a backpack and some bags for the groceries, took my mom's card, and said goodbye.

  The store was close — about ten minutes on foot.

  I figured I'd take the bus back, because there was no way I'd carry everything home like that.

  On my way, I saw a girl down the street struggling with a bunch of shopping bags.

  As I got closer, I saw her more clearly.

  She wore a black jacket, dark blue jeans, and her short black hair framed her face with pretty cute bangs.

  Poor thing was just standing there, staring at the bags like she had no idea what to do with them.

  There were a lot. And they looked heavy. All filled with food.

  I walked up and asked:

  Leo: Heavy?

  Max: You have no idea — she said, smiling kindly.

  Leo: I can help if you don't mind.

  Max: Are you sure? You'll have to walk a lot.

  Leo: It's fine. I'm gonna carry heavy bags anyway — consider this a warm-up.

  But it really doesn't seem like you thought this through.

  She laughed and replied:

  Max: Apparently not. Lucky you showed up.

  I picked up a few of the bags and left her with just a couple.

  I think she was a little offended by that.

  We started walking.

  Leo: Big family, huh?

  Max: You're right — but actually, this is for the homeless. I volunteer at a local NGO.

  Leo: You do volunteer work? That's awesome.

  Max: It really is fun. Except for this part.

  Leo: I get that — *laughs* You don't see a lot of people our age volunteering.

  Max: I don't blame them. It's a beautiful kind of suffering.

  But I do it because I want to help people, you know?

  Leo: I get it. If you want to change the world, you've gotta start somewhere.

  She lit up when I said that.

  Max: Exactly! That's my dream. I want to make a difference. Help whoever I can.

  I just don't know how yet. That's why I do this. Like you said — we all have to start somewhere.

  Leo: You're pretty honest. But I totally understand.

  Max: You do? — she asked, curious.

  Leo: Yeah... I also want to change the world.

  Make people feel connected to something.

  Help them feel better about themselves... or something like that.

  Max: Wow. And do you already know how?

  Leo: Not a clue.

  Max: Then we're stuck on the same dead-end street.

  We both laughed and kept talking.

  To be honest... I lied to her.

  I do know how to change people.

  But I don't know if I should show it yet.

  Maybe someday — when I'm good enough.

  After a while, we reached the NGO.

  We stayed for a bit and chatted with the staff.

  She told me a bunch of stories about the people there.

  It was fun. But I had other things to take care of.

  Then she remembered something I'd said.

  Max: You mentioned this was just a warm-up. Warm-up for what?

  Leo: I still have to go grocery shopping for my parents.

  Max: By yourself?

  I nodded, clearly frustrated.

  Just then, a van pulled up at the NGO.

  Max: Hey, we can help you shop and drop the groceries off at your place.

  After all, I kinda owe you one.

  I couldn't believe it.

  I was so happy I smiled brighter than the sun.

  Leo: Thank you so much. I'd love that. But you still owe me.

  She laughed, and we hopped in the van.

  We went to the store, did the shopping, and they dropped me off at home.

  I thanked them and said goodbye.

  I got in carrying several bags and a full backpack.

  My mom helped me unpack.

  Then I went to my room, grabbed some clothes, and took a shower.

  After that, I sat down to eat dinner.

  There was just one plate on the table.

  My mom had already eaten.

  Then, out of nowhere, the bedroom door slammed open.

  It was loud.

  My dad stepped out, heading straight for my mom, who was collecting laundry in the living room.

  Dad: My clothes aren't where I left them. Did you move them?

  Mom: I couldn't even go in the bedroom. It's always locked — she said, sarcastic.

  Dad: Liar. Talk to me properly. Don't touch my stuff.

  Mom: I told you. I didn't touch anything. And I don't care.

  Dad: Stop lying. Some of my clothes are missing. What did you do with them?

  Mom: I did whatever I wanted.

  That answer was practically a challenge. Enough to make him explode.

  Dad: YOU FUCKING WHORE!!! WHO TOLD YOU TO TOUCH MY STUFF?!

  Mom: I needed a pair of socks. And some pants — she said, mockingly.

  Dad: FUCK YOU, YOU BITCH!!! YOU'RE USELESS AND STILL MESSING WITH MY THINGS!!!

  I stopped eating and went to the living room.

  My dad kept going:

  Dad: I'M SICK OF YOU!!! YOUR ARROGANCE, YOUR DISRESPECT!!

  ALL YOU DO IS ACCUSE ME AND TREAT ME LIKE SHIT!!!

  My mom didn't reply.

  She just kept collecting clothes from the drying rack.

  I couldn't take it anymore and tried to step in.

  Leo: Stop it, Dad. You don't have to do all this.

  Dad: SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!

  ARE YOU TEACHING OUR SON TO TURN AGAINST ME, YOU WHORE?!

  I wanted to go at him. Beat the crap out of him. But I couldn't.

  So I stayed calm and tried to talk.

  Leo: Look at what you're doing, Dad... this doesn't make any sen—

  Dad: I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

  I'd had enough.

  Leo: YOU'RE MISERABLE!!! YOU WALK AWAY FROM THIS FAMILY FOR ANYTHING AND THEN YOU COME BACK TO COMPLAIN?!

  YOU'RE A DISGRACE AS A FATHER AND A HUSBAND!!!

  Dad: You're the worst thing I've ever done. I regret raising you. You pathetic piece of shit.

  Then he stormed back into the bedroom and slammed the door so hard it could've been heard in Japan.

  Mom: You should've stayed quiet.

  That hurt more than a knife. All of it did.

  Tired of everything, I went to my room. Grabbed a sheet of paper and started writing.

  A song. More than that — everything I felt. The rage. The hate. The sadness.

  The feeling of being abandoned.

  I wrote and wrote. Thought about the words. The emotions.

  Until I couldn't take it anymore.

  I fell asleep on the floor, pen and paper in hand.

  A few weeks went by.

  School was going well. I'd already done some projects.

  Got great grades.

  I'd started talking to a few people in class.

  They seemed cool.

  Still hadn't talked to any girls.

  Didn't get the chance.

  One sunny day, I was lying in the shade of a tree at school.

  I think it was a pine — at least, that's what the science teacher said.

  I was finishing my song.

  No one was around, so I felt comfortable writing and thinking.

  I was polishing a few things when, out of nowhere, Mr. Williams showed up.

  He saw me and walked over.

  Sean: Hello, Leonard. What are you doing out here alone? You're usually with someone.

  I thought about lying. But there was no point.

  He'd already seen the pen and paper.

  Leo: I'm writing... some stuff.

  Sean: Writing? Really? That's interesting. Can I take a look?

  Leo: It's not worth it, Mr. Williams.

  Sean: Why not? Every kind of writing is worth it.

  It's an expression of your ideas and emotions.

  There's nothing more valuable than how you feel.

  Leo: Not in this case. This — I pointed at the paper — is nothing special.

  He looked at me with a soft smile and said something that would change my life:

  Sean: Everything is "nothing special."

  What makes it beautiful is how we feel when we do it — the meaning we give it.

  Unfortunately, our conversation ends here. I have classes to prepare.

  See you later, young man.

  His words stayed in my head all day. But they helped me finish the lyrics.

  I didn't know what to do. Maybe it was a sign. Or maybe not.

  The day went by slow and painfully.

  But when the final bell rang, I grabbed my things and headed to the classroom where Mr. Williams had his next class.

  I walked in. He was alone, packing his stuff.

  When he turned around and saw me, I approached — one step heavier than the next.

  I reached into my pocket, took out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to him.

  He took it. No words. Just silence — the kind that says more than a thousand.

  Then he read it. At first, his face lit up with excitement. But slowly... it changed.

  His eyes began to shine. Tears welled up. Then fell.

  And then... he started crying.

  Not just crying — he broke down completely.

  I froze. Until he looked at me, his face soaked with emotion, and asked:

  Sean: Is this what you feel?

  I tried to hold back. I didn't want to cry. I nodded yes.

  He came closer and hugged me. Still crying.

  I couldn't hold it in anymore.

  After all these years, I gave up trying.

  I broke down too.

  In that classroom. On that day. In that silence filled only by birdsong.

  The two of us gave up holding back.

  And finally showed who we were — and what we'd been feeling all along.