(Told by Ava)
I always believed people fell in love with souls, not faces. Maybe that’s why I fell for Zane.
He wasn’t the kind of guy who made heads turn when he walked through the corridor, though most girls noticed him anyway — tall, brown-eyed, always laughing too loud with his friends. There was something about him, something real. Maybe it was how he’d joke about his broken phone or the way his shoes squeaked when he walked down the stairs.
Hazel and I used to tease him for that.
Hazel — my best friend since middle school. She was everything I wasn’t: confident, bold, the captain of the cheer squad. She could make anyone laugh, even teachers. We were both nineteen, in our second year of college, and somehow, even with our differences, we fit perfectly together.
Until Zane happened.
It wasn’t like a sudden realization. It crept in slowly, like how evening light fades without you noticing. He and I used to take the same bus after college. He lived two buildings away from mine, so walking home together just became a habit. He’d tell me about his friends, about how broke he was, and how he just wanted to be “someone” before graduating. I listened — always.
I never said it out loud, but I started loving him for the little things — the way he’d share his earphones, the way he’d cover his laugh when it got too loud, or the way he’d ask, “You okay?” even when I clearly was.
Hazel noticed too.
One day she leaned closer during lunch and said, “You like him, don’t you?”
I almost choked on my sandwich. “What? No— I mean, he’s just—”
“Don’t even try,” she grinned. “I can see it. You get that weird smile every time he walks by.”
I looked down. “So what if I do?”
She giggled. “Well, looks like we’re both in trouble then.”
It was the first time I realized Hazel liked him too — but differently. She liked how he looked, how he carried himself, the way he made jokes that caught everyone’s attention. For Hazel, Zane was a prize. For me, he was home.
The farewell party came faster than I expected. Zane’s batch was graduating, and the campus buzzed with excitement. Hazel had been talking for weeks about confessing to him. I laughed it off at first, thinking she was joking.
But she wasn’t.
That night, the college hall was lit with fairy lights. Everyone was dressed up — laughter, music, and bittersweet goodbyes filled the air. I spotted Zane across the room, looking ridiculously handsome in a navy-blue shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair perfectly messed.
He waved when he saw me, and my heart did that thing again — the one where it forgets it’s supposed to beat normally.
We talked for a while near the snack table, away from the noise. He was telling me about his plans after college, how he wanted to start working early, maybe get a job at a small firm.
“You’ll do great,” I told him.
He smiled. “You really think so?”
“I know so.”
He looked at me for a second too long. And in that second, I thought — maybe, just maybe, he felt the same.
Then Hazel’s voice broke the moment.
“Zane!” she called from the stage, holding a mic. My stomach dropped.
Everyone turned as she smiled nervously. “I just wanted to say something before you leave,” she said. “I… I like you, Zane. A lot. Would you go out with me?”
The hall erupted in cheers. Zane froze — his eyes flickered from Hazel to me. My throat felt dry.
And then, he smiled — at her.
“I’d like that,” he said.
Everyone clapped. Hazel ran to him and hugged him, and I… I smiled too. Because that’s what you do when you’re not the main girl — you smile, even when it feels like your chest is caving in.
That night, I walked home alone.
A month later, Hazel was always with Zane — dates, parties, selfies. My phone was filled with her excited texts:
“He said I’m the best thing that happened to him!”94Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVE1DzNTtgM
“You were right, Ava. He is amazing!”
I responded with emojis and heart stickers, pretending it didn’t kill me.
Zane and I still met sometimes — on the bus, after class. He’d tell me how things were going, how Hazel made him feel “alive.” I listened, smiled, and buried everything I wanted to say deep inside.
Then came the day Hazel called me crying.94Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2diH88P6eo
“He’s not who I thought he was,” she said. “He can’t even take me out properly. He’s… broke, Ava. I can’t do this.”
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to scream at her — you knew what he was like! But I didn’t. Because part of me still wanted Zane to be okay, even if it meant watching him fall apart again.
A week later, they broke up.
Zane didn’t talk much after that. The spark in his eyes dimmed. I found him one evening sitting near the bus stop, head down, earphones tangled in his hands.
“You okay?” I asked.
He gave a hollow laugh. “She left. Said I wasn’t enough.”
I sat beside him. “Maybe she just didn’t deserve you.”
He looked at me then — really looked. “You’re too nice, Ava.”
I smiled faintly. “No. Just stupid.”
He chuckled, the first time in days. “You’re not stupid. You’re the only person who hasn’t left.”
That line — you’re the only person who hasn’t left — it replayed in my head for weeks. I told myself it meant something. That maybe he saw me differently now.
But love doesn’t work like that, does it?
Days turned into months. I helped him study for job interviews, brought him coffee during his night shifts, cheered him up when he felt useless. And in return, he told me stories about Hazel — how he missed her, how he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Every word was a knife, but I stayed. Because sometimes, love isn’t about being loved back. It’s about being there.
The last time we met before everything changed, we were sitting on the rooftop of his building, watching the city lights. He had just gotten his first job.
“I guess this is goodbye,” I said softly. “I’m thinking of moving out, maybe to another city. A new beginning.”
He looked at me, eyes widening. “What? Why?”
I shrugged. “Maybe I just need distance.”
He fell silent for a moment. Then, quietly, he said, “Stay… please. I don’t want to lose another friend.”
That word again.94Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ6TpRM5tGr
Friend.
I smiled through the ache in my chest. “Sure,” I whispered. “For a little longer.”
And just like that — I stayed.94Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4zlDYqNDbT
Not as the girl he loved, but as the girl who loved him anyway.94Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3cMAyrm7xi
"Maybe I was never the main character in his story.94Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnvddSf5u2T
Maybe I was just the girl who filled the silence when his world fell apart.
But if loving him was my mistake, I’d still make it again.94Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0WUmOJjhty
Because some people aren’t meant to be ours — they’re just meant to be remembered."
and then Add to home screen.