As the first rays of sunlight slipped through the curtains, he stared at the ceiling. White—just like the day before. He had been lying there for hours, lost in thought, the silence pressing against his chest.

Turning his head slightly, his gaze landed on the old wooden bedside table. The clock read 6:00 AM. He ran a tired hand through his hair before forcing himself up and heading to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, he lingered, eyes fixed on the pair of toothbrushes in a blue cup adorned with faded cloud drawings. His fingers hesitated as they wrapped around one. He lifted it slightly, then turned toward the garbage can.

His grip tightened, but after a long pause, he set it back where it was.

"Not yet," he whispered to himself.

After a shower and a change of clothes, he walked to the kitchen, his movements slow, mechanical.

As he prepared the coffee machine, his eyes caught a framed photograph on the wall. His chest tightened. A sigh slipped from his lips. It was going to be one of those mornings.

He reached for the kettle, filling it with water and setting it on the stove. The quiet hum of the coffee machine filled the room until it beeped, signaling its readiness. He poured the coffee into a mug, added chocolate powder, and stirred absentmindedly. Then, with a small push, he slid the cup away.

Instead, he picked up the plain black coffee he had prepared earlier, took a sip, then immediately threw the rest away.

Grabbing his backpack and portfolio, he walked to the entrance, unlocked the door, and stepped outside, shutting it behind him.

"Hey, Jaden! How are you doing, sweetie?"

A familiar voice pulled him back to reality. He turned to see his elderly neighbor, a warm smile on her face.

"Good morning," he greeted with a polite nod. "I’m doing well, just going over my interview questions." He let out a soft chuckle. "How's your morning?"

She sighed, glancing toward her apartment door. "Not great. My husband is upset with our daughter. She promised to visit for his birthday, said she’d be here, but…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Well, you know how kids are these days."

Jaden simply nodded. He never understood how mothers could forgive their children so many times. But then again, that’s what mothers do.

The elevator doors slid open.

"Well, I guess I’ll see you later. Take care, dear."

He gave her a small smile and a wave before stepping inside.

He drove to work the same way he always did—same streets, same people, same storefronts. The radio played a random playlist, but he barely registered the sound.

At a red light, his eyes drifted to a coffee shop on the corner. He stared at it for a moment, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter before accelerating when the light turned green.

By the time his shift ended, the clock read 10:46 PM. He packed up his things, shut down his laptop, and left.

The drive home was just as monotonous—the same streets, the same stores, the same routine. But as he passed the coffee shop, he found himself glancing at it again. He arrived at the apartment complex and parked his car. He looked at the backseat and caught a glimpse of a blue hoodie. A soft smile appeared on his lips as he slowly opened his car door. The smile that briefly flickered across his face vanished the moment he heard someone shout his name.

His grip on the car door got harder until his knuckles became white.

Slamming the car door shut, he locked it and hurried toward his building’s entrance.

The clicking of high heels against the pavement echoed behind him, each step laced with a sense of ownership, like she ruled the world.

"WAIT!"

He shoved his hand against the elevator button, stepping inside as soon as the doors slid open. His heart pounded.

"Come on, come on," he muttered.

Just as she reached the entrance, the doors shut, sealing him away from the voice that made his blood run cold.

His palms were damp with sweat.

"Not now," he whispered, voice shaking. "Not today."

When the elevator doors finally opened, he rushed into his apartment, locking the door behind him. The tension in his body lingered.

Loosening his tie, he tossed his jacket onto the couch and collapsed onto the cushions.

The ceiling stared back at him, empty and indifferent.

A soft knock came from the door.

He sat up, but instead of answering, he walked to the kitchen. The mug of now-cold chocolate sat untouched. He picked it up and poured it down the sink.

Without bothering to take off his shoes, he trudged to his bedroom, threw himself onto the bed, and pulled the blanket over his head.

Hugging the pillow close, he let the knocking fade into the silence.

And for the rest of the night, he pretended he heard nothing.