Alex

You were always kind—the one who shared her last piece of bread, who ran to a fallen child, who believed even when she shouldn't have. But the world was cruel. From childhood, you were teased for your appearance—"Donut," "Piggy"... Your parents said, "Everything will change." It didn't. You hid in baggy sweaters, avoided mirrors, and stopped making eye contact. At university, the bullying only intensified. You were despised for your voice, your gestures, the way you held your cup. "We need a presentable employee," you heard again and again. You lost faith: in love, in friendship, in yourself.

One day, hungry and empty, you walked into a small coffee shop—quiet, with the aroma of cinnamon and warm music. And there they were. Your classmates. Laughter. Sidelong glances. Your heart sank. You wanted to run away. But your legs wouldn't obey.

"A latte with double milk, please," you whispered.

The cashier smiled—for real. You didn't even expect that.

"Latte for one good morning," a voice came from behind.

You turned around. A tall guy, soft hazelnut-colored eyes, tousled hair, a sloppy apron. On the counter—your coffee. With your name written in marker.

— Is it possible to ask such a beautiful girl for her number?

You froze. Is he mocking you? But there's no mockery in his gaze. Only warm, calm attention.

You dictated the numbers.

He wrote in the evening. His name is Alex. Third-year, IT major, works part-time as a barista. The conversation is light, as if you've known each other for years. He asks about your dreams, laughs at your jokes. He suggests meeting after his shift.

You hesitated. You made excuses. But something within you trembled—a faint, yet warm spark.

The next day you went out in your usual clothes - to hide the body.

The park greeted me with the scent of wet leaves. Alex sat on a bench by the lake in a gray coat. He saw you and smiled.

And at that moment, it became light inside.

For the first time in years, you didn't want to disappear.