Chapter 1

A school for aspiring artists. The stage of her dreams, but also a maze of unknowns. New classmates, new paths to discover, and, above all, a fresh start.

“So, are you excited?”

Her father’s voice, gentle and affectionate, drifted into the car, breaking the silence that had grown almost icy.

“A little… but I think I’m more nervous than anything else,” his daughter replied, turning to look at him.

“That’s normal. New city, new school, people you’ve never met… but you’ll manage, as always.” Richard gave her one of his unfailing smiles.

Zoe offered a half-smile, twirling a strand of her red hair. “Hmm. New city, new school… and maybe even a new me?”

“‘New you,’ huh? I like the sound of that,” he chuckled, without taking his eyes off the road. “I just hope the old Zoe doesn’t disappear completely. You know, I really like that girl.”

“Maybe I’ll try to keep the best of both!!”

The tension in her shoulders melted away. The laugh that followed was the first truly “normal” sound since they’d crossed the county line.

Just then, the car turned the corner. A large carved wooden sign gave them an official welcome: “Welcome to Moonridge.”

The wheels came to a stop when Richard pulled up in front of a small house with a sloping roof. It was a two-story building, enveloped in the silence of a small, still-wild garden that seemed to be watching them with curiosity.

It certainly wasn't a palace, but it had a certain cozy charm to it. Zoe got out of the car with mixed feelings: on one hand, the excitement of the new; on the other, that subtle longing for what she had left behind.

As she crossed the threshold, the pungent smell of fresh paint hit her full force. The house, still almost empty, seemed suspended in an unreal silence, broken only by the echo of their footsteps on the polished floor. In the trunk, the boxes contained their entire previous life, ready to be unpacked and settled into this new one.

“Well, it may not be Versailles, but with a couple of pillows and a nice steaming pizza on the table, we’re all set! At least for tonight, we’ll be kings,” Richard exclaimed, breaking the silence of the rooms.

Zoe burst out laughing. “You’ve officially saved me from the kitchen, so I approve! Sounds great to me.”

“Oh yeah, you’re off the hook for today, young lady! But you know that starting tomorrow, I’ll need my number one assistant.”

Zoe laughed again, but her eyes were drawn to something beyond the windowpane. She stepped closer and gasped. Beyond the boundary of their property stood a luminous, elegant structure that seemed almost to glow with its own light.

“Is that it, Dad?!”

“Yes, sweetheart. Your new school. So, what do you think?”

The Royal Stage Academy was enormous. Majestic. With its refined architectural lines and that aura of prestige, it didn’t look like a high school, but a castle… or perhaps a temple dedicated to the muses.

“It’s beautiful…” Zoe murmured. But her enthusiasm vanished in an instant, replaced by a knot in her stomach. “But… will I really be up to the task? I’m afraid I won’t be able to find my place among so many talented people.”

She lowered her gaze, suddenly feeling small in the face of that mass of stone and glass.

Richard stepped closer and placed a warm hand on her shoulder, a simple gesture that carried the weight of a promise. “If you can’t find it, do you know what you have to do, Zoe? You have to create it. You can do anything. You’re my little girl, and your spark is every bit as bright as anyone else’s.”

The little girl smiled again, grateful for those words. As she continued to stare at the school, a tumult of conflicting emotions began to torment her. Yet, despite her fear, she felt an electric impatience coursing beneath her skin.

For the first time in a long while, she was certain that her life was about to change for real.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The next morning, Zoe woke up with her heart pounding like a wild drum. Sunlight filtered through the folds of the curtains, and for a moment, she lay still, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. Then, the realization hit her like an electric shock: it was the first day.

After a breakfast she ate almost without tasting the food, she got dressed quickly. Dark jeans, a simple sweatshirt, and her trusty sneakers. She didn’t want to look too flashy, but her red hair seemed to have other plans, shining brightly in the morning light.

Richard dropped her off at the gate with one last encouraging smile and a wave. As her father’s car drove away, Zoe stood alone in front of the building.

The imposing gate and elegant walls of the Royal Stage Academy exuded an aura of nobility that was almost intimidating. She took a deep breath, tightened the straps of her backpack until her knuckles turned white, and stepped through the doorway.

The lobby was bursting with life.

The air vibrated with an electric energy, charged with dreams and ambitions. All around her, hundreds of students were laughing, heatedly discussing scripts, or practicing dance steps in the hallways. It was a world where art wasn’t a pastime, but the very breath of each and every one of them.

Zoe felt like a tiny boat in the middle of a stormy ocean. She walked with a lost look on her face, trying to find her way through the endless hallways and frescoed ceilings to the principal’s office, when...

— Bam! —

The impact was sharp, inevitable. A stack of papers flew out of the other girl’s hands, scattering across the polished hallway floor like petals in the wind.

“I’m so sorry!! Oh my God, I didn’t see you at all!” exclaimed the stranger, rushing to help Zoe up. 

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry! It was my fault... I’m so absent-minded, please forgive me!” she replied, immediately bending down to pick up the papers.

As she picked them up, Zoe looked up. Standing before her was a girl who looked like an explosion of color: long, straight blonde hair streaked with vibrant strands of fuchsia pink and sky blue. Two small side braids framed her face, highlighting two large brown eyes that sparkled with an almost electric energy. Compared to Zoe’s plain sweatshirt, her outfit was a statement of joy.

“You’re new, aren’t you? I’ve never seen you around!” said the girl, eyeing her from head to toe with innocent curiosity. She jumped to her feet and held out her hand with a beaming smile. “I’m Milly! Nice to meet you, and welcome to the chaos!”

“I’m Zoe. And yeah… is it that obvious I’m new?” Zoe replied, handing her the sheets. “Sorry again for the mess, really…”

“Oh, no, don’t worry! I was too caught up in my own thoughts,” Milly replied, waving the sheets in the air. “I was going over one of my songs. I absolutely want a solo in this year’s show, but… AH! I’m in a crisis!”

Zoe couldn’t help but laugh. Milly’s energy was contagious. “Well, you seem super determined—you’ll definitely make it! As for me… I think I’m already lost. This school is a maze. Could you show me where the principal’s office is?"

“Oh, I’ll take you there! Come on, it’s on my way,” the girl replied, motioning for her to follow. “I totally get it, you know? I still get lost even now. Sometimes I need a GPS just to find the bathroom!”

The two girls set off, and between jokes, Zoe’s tension began to melt away. There was already a strange, natural rapport between them.

They arrived at the door. It was an imposing slab of ivory-white metal, with a matte, polished finish that made it look almost like stone. It had no veins or imperfections, just a classic molding that gave it a solemn, regal air.

In the center stood out a mirror-polished golden brass handle, which seemed to be waiting only to be pulled down to reveal Zoe’s future. Milly stopped, winking at her. “Here we are. Good luck, Zoe!”

Zoe returned a half-smile, then took a deep breath. Her knuckles tapped against the ivory metal, and a moment later she stepped through the threshold.

“Good morning… uhm... I’m Zoe Ashbrook.” Her voice sounded strangely small in that room.

The principal, Mrs. Brown, was seated behind an imposing desk. She was a middle-aged woman of austere elegance, with long gray hair pulled back into a bun so perfect it looked sculpted. She wore a charcoal-gray suit that seemed to absorb the surrounding light, emanating an almost tangible aura of darkness. Behind the thin lenses of her glasses, her leaden eyes seemed to scrutinize not only Zoe’s face, but her very soul.

The woman raised her icy gaze. “Good morning… and welcome to the Royal Stage Academy, Miss Ashbrook.”

She stared at her intently, lingering a second too long. For a moment, the silence in the office grew heavy, electric; Mrs. Brown seemed to sense an unusual vibration around the girl, but she limited herself to an imperceptible twitch of her eyebrows. She said nothing.

She offered a smile devoid of warmth and handed her some forms.

“Now then. Your first class will be Music with Class 2A. Of course, standard academic subjects must not be neglected; this is an arts school, but it remains a rigorous institution nonetheless. I always remind all my students of that. You may go.”

“Y-yes, of course. Thank you... excuse me.”

Zoe backed out of the room. Once outside, she could still feel that icy aura on her, a shiver running up her spine.

“It’s just first-day jitters,” she forced herself to think, pushing away that negative premonition. She was too happy to be there to let herself be intimidated by a strict principal.

Milly was still waiting for her in the hallway, but she wasn’t alone anymore. Standing next to her was another girl.

“Zoe! There you are!” Milly exclaimed. “Let me introduce you to Eva, a dear friend of mine!”

Eva had a calm demeanor, almost in contrast to Milly’s hyperactivity.

Zoe held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Eva. I’m Zoe.”

“It’s my pleasure, Zoe. Welcome!” the girl replied with a warm smile, gently shaking her hand.

Eva was the exact opposite of Milly. Her amber complexion set off her thick, dark curls, which were gathered into two small, adorable buns. She wore thin-framed glasses that framed her eyes, and her formal attire, almost like a customized school uniform, gave her a mature and composed air. She seemed to move with extreme caution, in stark contrast to her friend’s explosive energy.

Zoe found it hard to believe that two girls so different could be inseparable. Yet, watching them, she had the feeling that it was precisely that difference that made them complementary: a perfect balance between chaos and order.

“What class did the principal assign you to?!” asked Milly, unable to stand still.

“2A. Do you know where that is?”

“AH! I can’t believe it! We’re in the same class! All three of us!” exclaimed Milly, jumping for joy and pulling them both into a group hug that nearly knocked Eva off balance.

But that moment of euphoria was swept away in an instant. A sudden surge of negative energy seemed to freeze the air in the hallway.

Three girls strode forward with confident steps, and their arrival was like a magnetic signal: anyone nearby turned to look at them, speechless. Matilda stood out in the center of the group. With platinum-blonde hair and flawless makeup, she looked like she’d stepped out of a high-fashion photo shoot. Her blue eyes were as sharp as blades of ice, capable of dissecting anyone with a single glance. Dressed in designer clothes that screamed luxury, she exuded an aura of venomous superiority that promised trouble with every step.

At her sides were her “handmaidens.” To her right, Clarisse: jet-black, perfectly straight hair and a geometric fringe that framed her face. Every movement of hers was measured, almost robotic, perfectly coordinated with Matilda’s. To her left, however, was Vanessa. Her copper-red hair fell in waves past her shoulders, and her gaze, unlike the other two’s, held a spark of sunlight that seemed to soften—albeit slightly—the chill emanating from the trio.

Every movement they made spoke of power and absolute control. Zoe felt a shiver run down her spine as the trio closed the distance.

They stopped right in front of them. Matilda didn’t say a word at first, merely sizing Zoe up from head to toe. Her gaze lingered a moment too long on the newcomer’s fiery red hair, her expression one of pure, icy disgust.

“Hey girls, look at this… we’ve got a new recruit!” she finally exclaimed sarcastically, her lips curling into a venomous smile. “Looks like the loser duo has become a trio. How sweet.”

Clarisse and Vanessa burst out laughing in unison, as if that joke were the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Zoe felt the blood rush to her cheeks, but before she could even open her mouth, Milly stepped forward.

Milly crossed her arms, tilted her head, and replied with a mischievous smile, completely unfazed.

“Wow, Matilda, you never disappoint, do you? As soon as you see a new face, you immediately feel the need to mark your territory? Are you afraid someone else will steal your thunder?”

She stepped up beside Zoe, wrapping her arm protectively around her and shooting a silent challenge with her gaze. “Sorry to disappoint you, but we’re perfectly fine just the way we are. You see, the difference between us and you is simple: we don’t need to step on others to convince ourselves we’re special.”

Matilda’s expression changed, betraying deep irritation. Her blue eyes flashed with a dangerous light, and she was about to retort with something far harsher when, with a sharp click, the office door swung open.

The principal appeared behind them; her austere presence was enough to silence the hallway.

“So… what’s going on here? Why are you still in the hallway?”

The vice principal’s voice made Clarisse and Vanessa stiffen; even Matilda lowered her gaze for a moment before flashing her most mellifluous smile.

“Nothing, Principal. We were just welcoming… the new student,” Matilda replied. Her voice was a forced melody dripping with hypocrisy. As she spoke, her icy fingers tightened around Zoe’s arm, pulling her toward herself with a sharp movement, as if to mark a forced possession and separate her from Milly’s warmth.

Mrs. Brown eyed them over her thin glasses, not at all convinced. “Yes, yes… This is all very nice. But I won’t tolerate any commotion in the hallways. Now, get back to class immediately.”

“Y-yes, Principal! We’ll go right away!” they replied almost in unison, their haste betraying the fear that woman instilled in everyone.

The group headed toward 2nd A, and Zoe felt a knot in her stomach: Matilda wasn’t just a hallway bully—she was her new classmate.

When they reached the door, the others went inside, but she stood there, frozen. Her heart was pounding so hard it echoed in her ears. Her feet seemed glued to the hallway floor, unable to take that final step. Her heart was pounding so hard it echoed in her ears, a frantic rhythm she couldn’t calm.

That was when she felt a presence behind her. A slight shiver ran down her spine, as if the air around her had suddenly changed, becoming thicker, almost electric...

“Um… excuse me. Are you planning on going in?”

The voice wasn’t rude. It was deep, warm, like the reverberation of a low note on a piano. “Because, you know… you’re blocking the way.”

Zoe turned around, and for a moment, the world around her dissolved. Standing before her was a tall, broad-shouldered boy with ash-blond hair falling unkempt over his forehead. But it was his eyes that took her breath away: they were green, a shade so similar to her own, yet filled with a calm, gentle curiosity. He didn’t have the air of the typical arrogant popular boy; his smile, shy and sincere, conveyed a reassuring confidence.

Zoe had a sudden flash of déjà vu: she felt as though she had seen that face before in a forgotten dream.

He, too, seemed to falter when their eyes met, as if time had stretched out into a suspended silence meant only for the two of them.

“Zoe!! Come on, sit here with me and Eva!”

Milly’s shrill voice shattered the spell like a stone hitting a pool of water.

Zoe snapped out of it abruptly, lowered her gaze, and mumbled a quick “S-sorry!” before rushing inside.

The classroom took her breath away: it wasn’t a normal room. Posters of great masters of the past and modern icons hung on the walls, while musical instruments of every kind, from violins to synthesizers, were arranged in an artistic disorder that made the air thick with creativity.

Zoe made her way toward the desks, her legs feeling like jelly. She sat down next to Milly, while Eva took a seat right behind her. Even though she tried to concentrate, she couldn’t help but turn around once more.

He was still there, standing in the doorway, staring at her.

“Are you okay? You’re all red…” Eva whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder with her usual concerned sweetness.

“Oh, she’s just fine!” Milly giggled, giving her a knowing nudge. “She’s just fallen head over heels for Didì!”

“Didì?!” Zoe looked at her in confusion, repeating that absurd name.

“That’s him,” Eva explained, nodding toward him. “The boy you were blocking at the door. His name is Demian, but Matilda’s called him ‘Didì’ ever since they were little.”

Just then, Demian finally walked into the classroom. But he didn’t head toward the desks in the back; he went straight to Matilda. Under everyone’s gaze, the two exchanged a quick kiss, a possessive gesture that brooked no response. A moment later, Demian turned his head and his green eyes met Zoe’s again, but he quickly looked away, as if he’d been burned.

“You know how it is…” Milly continued, lowering her voice. “He’s Matilda’s private property. Off-limits, unapproachable, and untouchable. If you even try to look at him, she’ll wipe you off the face of the earth.”

Zoe tried to smile at her friends’ jokes so as not to show it, but she felt a small weight settle in the pit of her stomach. That kiss, so public and natural, had already given her heart a little twinge.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The bell rang, and the teacher entered the classroom. He was a tall man with long brown hair tied back in a ponytail; he wore glasses, an elegant suit, and a colorful scarf that broke up the seriousness of his appearance. He set his books on the desk but didn’t start writing on the board. He looked at everyone and then smiled.

“Welcome, dear students, to your first day of ‘History of Music’ with me! Let me introduce myself: my name is Oliver White. To you, Professor Oliver. But don’t get your hopes up: we won’t just be sitting here talking about dates and composers. Music is lived. Music is breathed. And today we’ll do just that right away.”

A murmur rippled through the classroom.

Zoe saw Milly lean closer to her to whisper something. “Oh no, he doesn’t want us to improvise in front of everyone right away, does he?”

Eva, on the other hand, was nervously clutching her pen between her fingers.

The teacher clapped his hands once, loudly. “Come on, stand up. Everyone.”

“Today we’ll start with a simple rhythm exercise, to get to know each other… and break the tension. Music comes from the heart, but it lives through rhythm. Repeat after me.”

He began clapping his hands, a simple but driving rhythm. The classroom immediately filled with sounds: some precise, others muddled. Milly put her energy into it, Eva was in perfect sync, while Zoe tried to concentrate, ending up chuckling at her own mistakes.

The professor looked at them all with a satisfied air.

“Perfect. Making mistakes is part of music. Remember that.”

With a sudden, dramatic gesture, Professor Oliver pulled a keyboard toward him. His fingers began to fly across the keys with impressive fluidity, filling the room with a lively, complex melody.

“Now, someone try to follow me!” he exclaimed over the notes. “It doesn’t matter if you’re off-beat or hit the wrong octave. We’re here to learn, after all! Who’s going to break the ice?”

A deathly silence fell over the classroom. No one dared raise a hand; even the veterans seemed intimidated by that cascade of notes.

Milly rolled her eyes, then whispered to Zoe in a faint voice: “If no one volunteers, he’ll end up choosing someone…”

Just then, as if he’d heard her, the professor’s gaze settled on Zoe.

“You. I’ve been told you’re a new recruit. Just like me. Would you like to try adding some color to this melody?”

Zoe’s heart leapt into her throat, pounding against her ribs like a caged bird. She felt her stomach churn. “Me? But… I can’t, not now, in front of everyone…”

The thought of Demian and Matilda being there made her feel even more vulnerable. Her hands began to sweat, and her voice died in her throat.

“N-no… I… I don’t think I can do it…” she murmured, lowering her gaze until she was staring at the grain of the wood on the desk.

From the second row on the opposite side, Matilda let out a smug smile, relishing every moment of Zoe’s embarrassment. But Professor Oliver didn’t bat an eye. There wasn’t a trace of reproach in his gaze, just an understanding smile.

“It’s okay. Music isn’t a competition, nor is it a forced performance. You’re not always ready on the first day.” He then turned to Milly. “Now, you, young lady at the next desk. I see a lot of energy in you… come on, it’s your turn!”

“Me?!” Milly exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise. But a moment later she burst out laughing, resigned to her fate. She jumped to her feet and walked over to the professor.

Milly began to sing a few notes, but instead of following Oliver’s classical, composed melody, she added her own twist: a pop rhythm, syncopated and decidedly unconventional. It was technically imperfect, but it radiated joy from every pore.

The classroom erupted in amused, collective laughter. Even the professor laughed, following the girl’s whimsical rhythm. The tension hanging over the class melted away like snow in the sun.

Zoe breathed a sigh of relief, seeing the attention shift to Milly, but deep down she felt a small, bitter pang of regret. She wished she had even a fraction of her new friend’s courage.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Once the first block of classes was over, it was finally time for recess. Milly and Eva jumped to their feet, reaching Zoe’s desk with perfect timing.

“So, Zoe! Are you coming with us to the cafeteria? Let’s have lunch together!”

“Sure!” she replied, grateful not to have to face that chaos alone.

The Royal Stage cafeteria was a frenetic swarm of students. Zoe followed her friends, tray in hand, trying not to trip over the crowded tables and the outstretched legs of the older students. The air was thick with the smells of food, chatter, and laughter.

“There it is! A free table!” Milly exclaimed, dashing toward a corner of the room and dragging the other two along with her.

As soon as they sat down, Zoe let out a long sigh. “Oh my gosh, what a mess… I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to all this hustle and bustle.”

Eva smiled at her with her usual sweetness. “You’ll see, you’ll settle in soon. And besides, we’re here, aren’t we?”

“Exactly!” added Milly, giving her a pat on the shoulder that almost made her spill her water. “You won’t get rid of us that easily—just accept it!”

The three girls burst out laughing, a moment of pure lightheartedness that was interrupted by a soft metallic clink: a boy had just set his tray down on their table.

“Hi. Uhm, sorry, can I sit here with you?”

Zoe looked up. The boy seemed younger than they were; he had a small but agile build and a cascade of shoulder-length orange hair that fell over his eyes in a charming mess. He had a lively, almost electric gaze and a smile so sincere it radiated instant warmth. He seemed like the kind of person you could trust at first glance.

“Y-yes, of course!” Eva replied, making a little room for him with her usual shyness.

“I’m Leo,” he introduced himself with a half-smile. “You’re sophomores, right?”

“Yes! I’m Milly, this is Eva,” Milly said, pointing to her friend, then moving her finger toward Zoe. “And this is Zoe. She’s new like you, but we’re in 2A. But be careful: if you sit here with us, you’re seriously risking your reputation,” she concluded in a low voice, pulling a funny face.

Leo replied sarcastically, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Perfect, then I’m in the right place! I’m a freshman, I’m in 1C. I’ve never been a popular guy—quite the opposite, actually. So it’s not a problem; I think it’s impossible to be any more invisible than this.”

Zoe looked down, feeling a pang of sympathy for him: she recognized herself perfectly in his words. A small smile appeared on her lips, as she felt truly understood for the first time.

But the group’s cheerfulness was abruptly cut short by a shrill, sarcastic voice coming from behind them.

“Well, look who’s already found herself a clique of outcasts… the little newbie sure didn’t take long to make friends with her own kind.”

Zoe looked up and stiffened. Matilda was standing there, impeccable and icy, with her two “shadows” in tow. She held the tray with the studied grace of a queen descending among her subjects to inspect the borders of her kingdom.

“Oh, how cute!” Matilda began, shifting her gaze to Leo with a mischievous smile that promised nothing good. She eyed him up and down with a look of feigned pity. “I didn’t know the academy had opened its doors to… street performers, too.”

The reference to Leo’s slight build and scruffy appearance was obvious, but the boy didn’t bat an eye. He continued chewing his sandwich calmly, then looked her straight in the eye.

“Well, better ‘street performer’ than ‘beautiful and poisonous,’ right? I may be ‘dirty’ on the outside, but you’re still rotten on the inside.”

The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of Milly nearly spitting out her water as she stifled a thunderous laugh. Eva covered her mouth with her hands, eyes wide, while Zoe was literally speechless, feeling a mad urge to laugh battling with fear.

Matilda’s smile cracked visibly. Her blue eyes flashed with cold anger. “Very funny. Be very careful who you decide to cross, kid… or your career will end before it even begins.”

Then she turned her gaze to Zoe, narrowing her eyes into two slits brimming with contempt. Zoe stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the table as she felt the weight of that silence crushing her chest. She couldn’t utter a word, paralyzed by the coldness Matilda radiated simply by being there.

“Congratulations on the company, rookie,” Matilda declared with a bitter smile. “You’re a depressing sight. Make sure you don’t stain the floor when you leave.”

She shot one last icy glare and walked away in quick strides, followed by Clarisse and Vanessa, who walked with their heads held high without looking back.

Milly sprang up, her hands already braced on the table to push herself up. “Hey, who do you think you are…!”

She didn’t have time to finish her sentence before Eva grabbed her firmly by the arm, pulling her back down. “Let it go, Milly. It’s not worth it; you’d only make things worse.”

Milly sat back down reluctantly, crossing her arms over her chest, her face red with anger. “How rude, unbelievable!” she huffed, shooting a fiery glance toward the door through which they had just disappeared.

Then she high-fived Leo. “You were awesome! No one ever talks back to her like that!”

Leo shrugged indifferently. “I’m used to it. People like her are predictable.”

Zoe, however, could still feel the adrenaline pumping too hard. The stress of the meeting at the office, Demian’s gaze, and now yet another confrontation with Matilda had worn her out. She needed a moment to catch her breath.

“I’m just going to the bathroom for a second, girls…” she said, getting up quickly, her cheeks still flushed.

“Do you want us to come with you?” asked Eva, exchanging a worried glance with Milly.

“No, no, don’t worry! I know where it is, I’ll be right back,” replied Zoe, forcing a smile and quickly walking away from the table.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Leaving the cafeteria, Zoe found herself in a corridor that seemed to go on forever. The hustle and bustle of lunchtime had been left behind the double doors, giving way to an almost unnatural silence. She walked briskly, still feeling a little lost within those imposing walls that exuded history and talent.

She was lost in her thoughts, the image of Matilda and Demian’s kiss continuing to torment her like a broken record, when it all happened in an instant.

— BAM! —

The impact was violent. The world spun wildly around her for what felt like an eternity. Zoe felt the cold metal of a locker against the back of her head, and a second later, she found herself sitting on the floor, her head throbbing and her breath caught in her throat.

“Oh my gosh! S-sorry, I didn’t see you!”

A deep male voice, filled with genuine concern, broke the silence.

Zoe squinted, trying to shake off the sparks dancing before her eyes, and slowly looked up.

He was leaning over her, so close that Zoe could feel the warmth of his breath. Her phone had slipped to the ground, forgotten, but he didn’t seem to care. His green eyes, wide with surprise and guilt, searched hers for a sign.

In that deserted hallway, far from Matilda’s gaze and the clamor of the cafeteria, time stood still once more. Zoe stood motionless, trapped by that gaze that seemed to see right through her, while a single thought crossed her mind: - Him again? Why him of all people?-

Why was she facing that boy again? 

END OF CHAPTER 1

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THE AUTHOR'S CORNER

Welcome to this new adventure! I hope the start of this journey to Moonridge is already captivating you. I have to admit: it was satisfying to write Leo putting Matilda in her place!  What do you think?Hahaha :')

And what about that last encounter in the hallway... do you think it’s just a coincidence, or is fate at work between Zoe and Demian? Let me know what you think in the comments—I’m dying to read your theories!

If you enjoyed this chapter, don’t forget to leave a like and a little comment to support me! It would help so much in growing this story :)

See you in the next chapter! Byee <3

— @theblackangel_ 🧚🏼‍♀️

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