Six months later, in a small town known as Artimia...
Theodore Gray, a spirited teen, rummaged through his cluttered, cramped bedroom. Though the smallest room in the house—its paper-thin walls barely kept out the sounds of life—it was his sanctuary.
Birdsong, wind whispering through cracked boards, and the hum of distant voices seeped into the space.
They calmed him. They reminded him he wasn't alone.
The walls were still covered in childlike drawings from years past, colorful little windows into his younger self. Clothes were scattered like battlefield casualties, and the floor was barely visible beneath them.
Half-finished sketches and scrawled notes cluttered his desk, a chaotic visual to the thoughts that never stopped racing.
It was a mess, but it was his mess.
Theo paused at the window. Sunlight spilled through, warming his face, and for a second, everything felt still.
The outside world continued, but it was as if time had pressed pause within this tiny room.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The antique clock above his desk forced reality back at him.
He was running late—again.
Frantic but familiar, his routine began: shirt buttoned wrong, then fixed. Tie half-assed, then straightened. His hair fluffed up into his low afro taper fade.
One last glance in the mirror.
"Lookin' dangerous," he said to himself, then cracked up laughing.
There it was—ego, checked.
Though tight and disorganized, this room was where Theo could ultimately be unapologetically himself.
It was the only space in the world where he didn't feel he had to prove anything. It wasn't much, but it was honest.
"Theo, you're going to be late!" came a soft voice beyond the door—gentle, melodic.
"Coming!" he called, bolting upright and grabbing his bag.
As he ran out the door and turned the corner—
"Whoa!"
He skidded to a stop, nearly stepping on Mimi, the family cat, who darted out of nowhere.
"Mimi! You've gotta stop doing that." He scooped her up with a pat on the head. She licked his hand and purred, tail curling as if proud of her ambush.
Smells of breakfast drifted through the hallway now—bread, spice, something buttery. Theo's stomach grumbled. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until now.
The thought of his mother's soft, warm, lightly salted eggs made his mouth water.
By the time he reached the kitchen, Mimi had leaped from his arms and trotted over to the table, where his father, Alvin Gray, sat with a book in one hand.
Alvin was built like a wall—bearded, broad-shouldered, quiet. Even while relaxed, you could feel the weight of his presence. His silence was never uncomfortable—it was commanding.
Theo plopped into the seat next to him, tearing into breakfast. Tears of delight streamed from his eyes as he savored every bite.
It was warm, greasy, and touched with the right flavoring. The food wasn't fancy, but it was everything: fluffy eggs, crisp bacon, and toast with a layer of sweet apple jam.
"Disgusting," Alvin muttered, grabbing the last piece of bacon from Theo's plate.
Theo chugged a glass of water and belched like a champion.
"I get it from you."
That got a rare laugh out of his dad. Theo wiped his mouth, stood, and grabbed his bag.
"See ya later—"
"Hold it!" said the same soft voice from before.
Alicia Gray glided into the room like a summer breeze, arms already open.
"Just where do you think you're going without saying goodbye?"
Theo braced himself. She swept him into a tight hug.
Her long, curly hair cascaded like a lion's mane, framing a face that radiated kindness. She always smelled faintly of lavender and vanilla, and her touch made the outside world feel less urgent.
No hug in the world could match the safety of hers.
"You're growing up so fast," she whispered, squeezing him.
"Mom... you do this every year," he mumbled.
She twirled him like a little kid, cupped his face, and asked, "When did you get so big?"
"Mom, seriously, I'm gonna be late."
She let him go with a laugh, and he stumbled backward like a dizzy boxer.
From behind his book, Alvin spoke again.
"Theodore."
Theo turned. "Yeah?"
"Regardless of what your mother says... You're not a kid anymore. Start thinking about the kind of man you want to become."
Theo blinked. His dad said stuff like this occasionally—but this felt heavier.
"Yes, sir."
Alvin stood, adjusted Theo's shirt and tie, then flicked his forehead.
"Make good choices. And happy birthday. I'm proud of you. I can't wait to see the man you become. Now get out of here before you're late again."
Theo smiled, stepped outside, and let the morning sun wash over him.
This day already felt different.
The walk into town was long, but Artimia made it worth it. Fields stretched green and gold under a sapphire sky. Birds chirped. A river glittered in the distance.
After last night's light rain, the morning air held a sweet, earthy scent. Patches of wildflowers bloomed along the roadside, their colors dancing in the breeze.
He passed a weathered signpost with peeling paint that read: "Welcome to Artimia."
Further ahead, the gravel gave way to compacted dirt. Theo liked this stretch the most. With the trees leaning in and the light flickering through the leaves, it felt like walking through a memory.
He thought about what his father had said, about the kind of man he wanted to be. It was hard to know, and the world didn't exactly give him many options.
But he figured if he could make people laugh, keep things light, and protect the people he cared about—maybe that was enough.
Halfway down the trail, he spotted two familiar figures.
"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Gramm!"
"Slow down, son," Mr. Gramm wheezed. "You tryin' to give an old man a heart attack?"
"Sorry! I'm running late!"
"Again? At this rate, you'll be late for your funeral one day!" he cackled, doubling over with laughter.
Mrs. Gramm rolled her eyes and touched Theo's cheek.
"Ignore this senile old man. Happy birthday, dear. Now hurry off to school."
"Do your best, son," Mr. Gramm said with a firm pat on Theo's back.
"You got it," Theo replied, thanking them with a smile before jogging off again.
The trail bent slightly, giving him a brief view of the hills beyond. He always liked that part of the path—it made the world feel a little bigger, as if there was more out there waiting.
When he reached the fork in the road, two classmates were waiting.
David Hartwright. Dawn Cypress.
A year older and taller than Theo, David looked like a redheaded tower of mop hair and wore taped glasses. He raised a hand as Theo approached.
A year older and taller than Theo, David looked like a redheaded tower of mop hair and wore taped glasses. His posture leaned toward lazy confidence, his hands tucked in his pockets as he swayed back and forth.
His blazer hung off one shoulder as if he hadn't a care in the world.
He raised a hand as Theo approached. "Took you long enough."
"You know how my mom is," Theo replied.
Then he looked at Dawn.
Shorter than both boys, she stood poised, her raven curls pinned neatly. Dawn was the same age as Theo but older by a few months. Due to this, she constantly reminded him of her seniority.
Her uniform was crisp, and her posture was perfect. She always carried herself with a grace that didn't match her age.
Despite this, Theo couldn't help but steal glances at her. There was a quiet glow to her that always made his chest tighten.
She had a rare presence—like the calm just before a storm or the hush of wind through trees.
She was intimidating and beautiful. Most guys couldn't even approach her. Theo didn't know if that made him brave or stupid.
Sometimes, he wondered what she'd think if she knew he liked her. Not that he'd ever say it. That was suicide. Emotional suicide.
"Hey, Dawn. Good—"
Before Theo could finish his sentence, Dawn and David flung colorful confetti and flower petals into the air.
"Happy Birthday!"
Theo blinked. The surprise hit him like a gentle slap of joy. He stood frozen for a second, then grinned.
Dawn smiled softly. "Good morning, Theo."
David added with a wink, "You thought we forgot, didn't you?"
"Honestly? Kinda."
Dawn chuckled. "How could we? It's the same day every year."
"You better enjoy it. Who knows? We might not remember next year," David said with a devilish grin.
Theo laughed, brushing confetti out of his hair.
"Yeah, right. But really, thanks, guys. You're the best."
As they started walking, Theo fell into rhythm beside them. He gazed at the sky, watching a bird soar effortlessly through the clouds.
For a moment, he felt that same freedom.
The three of them set off together down the dirt path—laughing, teasing, and utterly unaware of how soon their world was about to break.