Lunchtime was still noisy in the classroom. Groups of students laughed and chatted, sharing their lunches. Zara folded her hands on her desk and let her gaze drift out the window. Just then, the boy who had shared his earphones the day before approached her again. This time, he held up his phone, a small speaker connected to it.

"Listen," he said shortly, and an unfamiliar rhythm spilled into the classroom.

Boom. Thump.
The beat was lively yet heavy, vibrating against the floor, followed by a powerful voice moving quickly through the melody.

The air in the classroom shifted. A few students turned their heads, listening.

"Whoa... what's that?"
"Sounds... different."

The boy raised his phone higher. On the screen, several singers danced in perfect synchronization beneath dazzling lights. Flashing outfits, precisely matched movements, lyrics in an unfamiliar language. Still, it was impossible to look away.

Zara couldn't take her eyes off the scene. The sound didn't just reach her ears; it sank straight into her chest. Her heart began to beat in time with the rhythm, a tremor spreading all the way to her fingertips.

This isn't just a song. It has the power to shake me.

"Wow, that's cool!"
"Who are they?" the kids exclaimed.

After the boy gave a brief explanation, the students nodded and laughed among themselves. Then one of them pointed at Zara.

"You... know this?"

Zara's face flushed. But the music was still echoing in her ears. Gathering her courage, she moved her lips ever so slightly.

"...la... la..."

It was only a short melody, but it fit perfectly with the flow of the song. For a moment, the atmosphere in the classroom wavered. The students stared at her in surprise, then a small cheer broke out.

"She can sing it!"

Zara's chest tightened until it was almost hard to breathe. For a brief moment, the unfamiliar classroom felt like a stage, as if she were singing under everyone's gaze.

At last... I can use my voice here too.

But the joy didn't last long. From one corner of the room, a snickering laugh rose again.

"Her accent's so weird."

Soon, a few students puckered their lips and began to mock her.

"Freeeeend~ Freeeeend~"

Cheers and ridicule blended together, filling the classroom. Zara's face stiffened. The warm light that had surrounded her moments ago cooled instantly, and a swirl of emotions churned in her chest.

I'm... still different. Even on this bridge, shadows follow along.

When lunchtime ended and the students filed out of the classroom, Zara took out her notebook and picked up her pen.

Music.
Friend.
Different.

She wrote the three words in a row and stared at them for a long time. Then, quietly, she whispered to herself.

Still, music built a bridge for me.
Someday... will I be able to stand on this bridge with confidence?