Summer break, day 11 — 19:40

"And now, to something a little more magical. Something that’s so beautiful, something we can witness only once in our lifetimes."

The screen flickers briefly as the camera cuts to the studio. A man and a woman sat behind a news desk, both smiling with perfect smiles.

The woman leaned toward the camera, her eyes ready to read her next line. "Tonight marks the peak of what astronomers are calling the 'once-in-a-million-years meteor event,'" she said, with that strange artificial smile. "Thousands of meteors visible across nearly every part of the world. Scientists say we won't get another chance like this until long after humanity’s gone extinct."

The man chuckled, adjusting his tie, "So basically, you miss it tonight, and you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

"Exactly," she grinned. "Cities everywhere are holding public viewings. Parks are packed. Rooftops. Beaches. Everyone’s coming together. If you've got someone special, bring them. If you don't—"

"Bring a blanket and some snacks and think about a wish you want to make later."

"No matter where you are," she continued, her voice softening slightly, "look up tonight. Even just for a minute. The universe doesn't usually make appointments like this."

The segment ended with a slow zoom of sparkling simulation footage with stars flying over a model of Earth and a gentle piano track that faded as the screen switched back to ads.

I blinked at the TV for a few seconds.

It was the 11th day of summer break; so far I hadn't left the house once. I would have to leave the house briefly today. Mum and Dad had argued yesterday that I never left my room. That I had no friends. I didn't want them to worry about me. Today I was going to leave my room.

My phone rested in my hand, unlocked. I'd been scrolling through nothing—just swiping out of habit, not even looking. Some meme. An ad. A blurred selfie someone had posted with the caption "ready for tonight". I had no idea who they were.

I already knew that in 50 years, when someone would ask me what my biggest regret was, I would answer that I lost too much time on my damn phone rotting in my room.

The phone screen dimmed and shut off. I didn't bother turning it back on.

I wished everyone would leave me alone. I wished I could stay here forever. In my room. I couldn't get hurt here, couldn't be laughed at. Here I was safe. Safe from them… Besides, I hadn’t finished that one show yet.

Suddenly, like a lightning flash, a memory of my mother shot through my head—how she had cried last night. My father had stood beside her, comforting her, but said nothing. I had hidden behind the wall, unnoticed, and listened. "Aleks hasn't left his room for days." "What is wrong with my son?" "Why doesn't he go out with his friends?" "Doesn’t he feel lonely?"

I shook my head, tried to think of something else to forget it quickly. Aleks! Pull yourself together—Mum and Dad were the only people here who maybe still thought about you at all, so at least try not to disappoint them too.

I finally stood up and looked around. My room was a complete mess—tissues and dirty clothes scattered all over the floor. It was pitch black inside; the only light was coming from the TV mounted on the wall across from my bed. Right next to it stood my gaming setup. If I wasn't wasting time on my phone in bed, I was probably sitting there.

The setup was pretty basic: a desk, two monitors, a PC, and a worn-out gaming chair that had definitely seen better days.

I usually kept my saved-up cash on the top shelf on the right side of the desk. So I walked over and opened it.

"Weird," I muttered to myself. For some reason, my wallet wasn't on the shelf. Maybe it was lying somewhere on the desk, but it was hard to tell with all the dishes and empty plastic bottles cluttering the surface.

I couldn't be bothered to dig through that mess. So I just grabbed my debit card and made my way down the hallway toward the bathroom.

The mirror lit up as I stepped in front of it. As much as I didn't want to, I glanced at myself.

I hate myself—

A small, fragile boy stood in front of me. I was 16 but didn't look older than 12. I was short and skinny. But my face was chubby and my cheeks thick. Back then I had gone to the gym regularly for a proud six months—five times a week—and I hadn't skipped once, not even leg day. It had been nice until I spotted a few of them there. From that moment on, I never went back.

My hair was dark blond and my eyes gray. I had never seen anyone with eye color like mine. I mean, maybe it was because I never looked people in the eyes, but… they were the only thing I liked about myself. And I didn't want to ruin even that for myself.

I brushed my teeth without thinking much, rinsed my face, patted it dry. Fixed my hair a little more.

Done.

I walked back to grab my keys and wallet. The hallway lights were off, but a faint yellow glow came from the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" my dad's voice called out.

I leaned around the corner just enough for him to see me.

"Out. Meteor thing."

He glanced up from his chair, one hand on a mug, the other holding his phone.

"With a friend?"

"Yeah."

I lied.

He didn't question it.

Just nodded once.

"Aleks, don't come back late."

"Got it."

Before I opened the front door, I took a deep breath.

It had been a while since I last left the house.

Aleks, you can do it.

The streets still held the warmth of the day. Shadows stretched long across the sidewalk as the sun slid lower behind the rooftops. Streetlamps hadn't flickered on yet, but the sky had already started shifting—colors bleeding from blue to purple, soft hints of gold melting into the clouds.

I passed by people heading toward parks, carrying foldable chairs and bags of snacks. A couple laughed as they juggled a rolled-up picnic blanket between them. Kids ran ahead, yelling about the event. A group of teenagers in matching hoodies was taking selfies near a fountain.

The whole city was preparing to look up.

I kept walking.

The corner shop was open. I normally went there to buy something to drink, so I pushed the door open, the little bell above it giving a tired jingle.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of old candy and cleaning spray. Shelves lined with snacks, energy drinks, and a fridge humming quietly in the back.

I made my way straight to it and opened the cooler. The cold air hit me in the face, crisp and sharp. My hand hesitated for a moment before I grabbed the familiar glass bottle—dark red, a faint cherry-vanilla tint swirling behind the label.

I closed the door, bottle in hand, and made my way to the counter.

That's when I heard the little bell above the door ring behind me—and then I saw him.

Brad. He was one of them.

He was leaning casually against the wall next to the exit, like the store belonged to him. Tall, athletic, the kind of face you'd see on an ad. Everyone at school talked about him, especially the girls. Standing next to him was Carmen. Her dark, straight hair fell over one shoulder, brown eyes shining in the fridge's neon light. Her skin held the warm brown of her homeland—she'd moved here from Spain a few years ago. Back in middle school, she was my best friend. Ever since then, I've had the dumbest, most hopeless crush on her. And now she was standing beside Brad.

Brad looked at me and grinned—not in a nice way. More like a cat spotting a toy. He raised his voice so everyone could hear.

"Hey Carmen, look. One of the weirdos I told you about."

His words hit like cold water. My mouth went dry. I knew what came next: mockery, maybe even a shove later behind the school building. For years, he'd humiliated me, treated me like garbage. Like I wasn't even human.

Carmen tugged on his sleeve gently. "Brad, stop. That's not funny." Her voice was soft, almost apologetic. But she didn't move away. Her eyes met mine—recognized me—and then slid away like I was nothing.

I wanted to say something. Something clever or angry. Anything. But I just stood there, frozen. My legs didn't feel like mine. The debit card in my hand trembled.

Moments like this are why I won't leave the house for the next few days.

His breath stank of energy drinks. My fingers tightened around the soda bottle in my hands.

I turned to the cashier, placed the bottle on the counter, stared at the card reader. The numbers blurred.

Just pay.

Just get out.

Just breathe.

Beep. Payment approved.

"Have fun tonight," the cashier mumbled without even looking at me.

I grabbed the bottle and headed for the door. In the reflection of the glass, I saw it: Brad wrapping his arm around Carmen, kissing her temple like it was nothing.

The door slid open. Cool air hit my face.

It wasn't until I was outside that I noticed how badly my knees were shaking. Brad was still laughing inside; Carmen's voice was just a faint echo.

I looked up at the sky as it started to darken. A tear slid softly down my cheek. That was too much; I wanted to go back home. To my room.

I walked out, the cool glass bottle sweating slightly in my hand.

A few minutes later, I turned onto the quieter path. The sounds of chatter, music, and cars faded behind me, replaced by the crunch of gravel under my shoes and the soft rustle of wind through trees.

The path wound gently uphill, flanked by overgrown hedges and an old metal fence on one side. Faint outlines of distant apartment windows blinked in the growing dusk like lazy fireflies.

My spot came into view, a half-buried bench sitting slightly crooked under a lone streetlight in a mostly forgotten corner of the park. The light flickered once, then held steady, casting pale gold across the worn wood and cracked pavement. I always go there when I tell my parents that I'm going out.

I sat.

The bench creaked beneath me, like it always did.

I popped the cap off the bottle and let it fall to the ground. Took a sip. Perfect.

The sky above had darkened just enough to show the first stars, tiny white dots blinking into existence one by one. The clouds were still pulling apart slowly, streaks of purple and orange slicing across the horizon.

I leaned back.

Maybe in another universe, my situation looked different. Maybe the Aleks from there was somebody. Went out with friends to eat, to shop, to swim, to the movies. Maybe he sat on this bench right here with them, waiting for the meteor show to start. Maybe, unlike me, he lived.

I breathed and admired the beautiful view from the bench. The world was so beautiful. I would have liked to run away—I didn't know where—just somewhere far, far from here.

Suddenly, a broad light appeared in the night sky. The meteor show had begun.

I looked up. The first meteor began to glide across the night sky. It flew slowly; behind it was its trail, which grew longer with every second. It was majestic in different colors; at the very front it was a bright yellow, almost white; farther back it turned turquoise, then pink, and at the end violet. Shortly afterward, the trail took up almost the entire night sky. It gave the dark night light again.

I stood up from the bench to see as much of it as possible, to experience the moment before it turned into a memory. I got goosebumps—I hadn't seen something so beautiful in a very, very long time.

Aleks, the world out there was so beautiful and there was still so much to discover. I didn't want to live like this anymore. I didn't want my world to be only my room. I didn't want to lie in my bed and rot while those who destroyed me, who ruined me, had the time of their lives.

I shouted out: I want to finally live!