Pooh, usually warm and smiling, seemed immersed in an unusually cold conversation. Pavel stopped, straining his ears in spite of himself. Fragments of words reached him, muffled but worrying: “…make sure he doesn’t talk…” Pooh murmured in a low but sharp voice. Pavel couldn’t hear the rest, but each word seemed to slip through the air like a warning. He unconsciously clutched his bag, his thoughts swirling. Was that really Pooh’s voice, the always friendly and cheerful boy? A veil of doubt settled in his mind, each fragment of the conversation shaking the image he had of his friend a little more.

The air around him was heavy, suffocating, in total contrast to the bright smile Pooh displayed every day. Pavel stopped short, surprised by this transformation. But as he involuntarily stepped back, he made a slight noise as he bumped into a chair. Pooh turned immediately, his eyes narrowing in the direction of the door. He could only see Pavel's shoes, but a discreet, almost sinister smile played on his face.

Pavel, his heart pounding, watched Pooh resume his conversation, his voice calm but laden with disturbing undertones. He felt a mixture of fascination and worry rise in him. How could he have ignored this side? he thought, breathless. A part of him wanted to move away, as if each word of Pooh was dragging him towards a dark place where he should not have ventured. And yet, another part, irrational, pushed him to know more. Why do I care so much? he wondered, frustrated by this inexplicable attraction to this mystery that Pooh had become.

Following the incident, Pooh, despite having clearly identified Pavel, chose to walk past him without a glance, as if he was completely unaware of his presence. Yet he let out a satisfied air, aware of the impact he had had on Pavel. The latter, disturbed and without really knowing why, found himself observing Pooh more and more. His gaze fell on himself when he didn't intend to, captivated by this duality between the smiling appearance that Pooh offered to others and the sharp calm that he reserved for himself alone.

Pooh, with a discreet look, had noticed Pavel's attentions, but he didn't let anything show. In class, in the corridors, their eyes sometimes met, and each time, Pavel felt like an electric shock ran down his spine. Pooh's face, impassive and closed, never displayed the warm smile that he reserved for others. This absence of a smile, this calculated coldness, gave rise to an almost painful curiosity in Pavel, mixed with a hint of anxiety. Sometimes he felt his heart race for no apparent reason, his breath catch for a moment, as if this silence between them had become a silent language, intended only for the two of them. He gradually understood that he was perhaps the only one to have glimpsed this other side of Pooh, a side hidden under his smiles for others. This new dynamic between them added a silent tension in each interaction. This game of unshared glances, this absence of smiles in their moments alone, created a constant and subtle tension, a silent invitation for Pavel to want to understand more of this hidden side.

Pavel and his friends were hanging out near the playground when a scene caught their attention. Pooh, as always helpful, had just helped a student in difficulty. His radiant smile lit up his face, a smile that used to warm hearts and catch everyone's eyes. However, this time, among the admiring glances, Pavel's was different, loaded with emotions that he struggled to define himself.

A shiver ran down his spine as he realized that this bright smile was only a mask, a mask that only he seemed able to pierce. And while his friends complimented him, he couldn't help but feel a hint of annoyance, as if this smile belonged only to him and to what he had glimpsed.

He was the only one who had perceived Pooh's duality, and it disturbed him.

 One of his friends, admiring, let slip a comment on Pooh’s popularity, and, without thinking, Pavel replied: “Yeah, if they only knew who he really is…” Immediately, he bit his lip, surprised by his own reaction. Why did I say that? he wondered, his heart beating faster, a strange heat rising to his cheeks. He wasn’t even sure he understood himself what had pushed him to speak like that, but he felt that the version of Pooh he had glimpsed troubled him more than he wanted to admit. That smiling mask hid many things, and despite himself, Pavel found himself irremediably drawn to this dark side that he seemed to be the only one to perceive.

A silence fell among his group, everyone’s attention turning to him, intrigued. But it was Pooh who noticed this remark, his smile subtly fading to give way to a sharp look. Even from a distance, Pavel felt the weight of this look, so intense that he had to look away, seized by a shiver. He could not tell if it was from fear... or fascination. Pooh said nothing, but that gleam in his eyes said it all: he had heard, and judging by that icy gleam, he was forgetting nothing.