~Hazel~

I sat at the table, mother and father lost in their own chatter- and then there was Haisely my so called twin, the naive one, the gullible one. She looked like she wanted to dissappear under the flourcent lights flickering over us, her hand nervously cutting her untouched food as she bowed her head in defeat. I was the better one, the flawless Hazel, when I spoke everyone obeyed without even thinking.

I had hated her.

Since when I could remember, they always saw her as the inoccent one.

And me?

I was the trouble maker- the one people didn't like until I found her weakness - her vulnerability

The air around the dinner table felt thick, heavy with an unsaid tension, and yet, I relished it. It was so easy to feel powerful when the people around me were too absorb in their own worlds to notice the crackling tension at the center of it all.

"Hazel, can you pass the salt?"My father's voice broke through my thoughts. I didn't move right away, and his gaze made me feel a jolt of irritation. I tossed the salt shaker across the table with out a word.

"Thanks." He didn't even look at me as he accepted it, he diverted his attention back to my mother- the stupid conversation.

I glanced at Haisely. She hadn't said a word since we sat down. Her posture was slumping, like she was trying to make herself as small as possible.

She always looked like that-fragile, weak and broken. Made no noise, no requests. Always trying to make herself invisible in the presence of everyone- especially our parents, trying to blending the background, like a shadow she couldn't escape.

But I notice.

I always noticed.

Her eyes flickered up for a moment, meeting mine, Full of something-something like desperation. It made my skin pickle, tensed but I quickly wiped the feeling away, replaced with a cold emptiness I was used to.Her gaze fell back to her plate almost immediately. Too sudden, and I fought the urge to smile.

It felt good, actually.

Very pathetic.

"I hope you girls are enjoying your return to school is," Mom said, oblivious to the fact that Haisley hadn't even touched her food. "You  should communicate more with your mates, Haisley."

"Don't you think it's early to be saying that? " I asked referring to her last words, my voice flat.

"It's never to late to try, Hazel," Mom snapped, not even sparing me a second look. "You could help your twin sister instead of staying inside your little bubble."

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from snorting. My mother always had her favorite -always comfort Haisley like she was some sort of angel sent down from heaven.

But that's what Haisley wanted, wasn't it?

To be loved.

To be perfect.

To be the one everyone talked about with affection in their voices. Too bad she didn't know how to play the game.

I did.

The very first time I realized she was.... weak, was  when we were ten. Our birthday, of course. Our parents were out with friends, leaving us at home for the night. And like always, Haisley had tried to make us both a cake. She always tried to make things better, like she was trying to forced happiness into the cracks of our broken family.

I hated it.

It was stupid.

The cake was a disaster, too dry, frost too thick. But she smiled anyway, watching me eagerly as I took my first bite. I remember it so clearly. Her eyes were wide with hope, the kind that only a child could have, the kind I never had. I pretended to savor it, smiling back at her through gritted teeth.

I trashed it anyway, threw the rest of it away-completely unnoticed by her.

The next morning, she had looked so hurt when she found the cake in the garbage, but it was already too late. I didn't care. It felt too good, watching her unravel over something so small, something so insignificant.

But she hadn't learned.

She never did.

I could see it now, too.

How she tried to please everyone, to make everyone happy, to make herself small and quiet, never drawing attention to herself. The more she did that, the more I began to see the cracks-how she was the one who was easily manipulated, easily broken.

Trusted people too much. Believed in them. Hoped that they would never let her down.

I couldn't stand it.

The worst part? She still thought we were "the same." She thought we were connected-two halves of the same whole. I could see it in her eyes every time we stood in the same room, like she was waiting for something, waiting for us to come together, like some sort of cosmic reunion that would make her whole again.

It made me sick.

Iwas better than her.

I had to be.

I just had to keep reminding myself of that. I smiled staring at her, savoring every little emotions she made.

Haisley pushed Hee peas around the plate, the forks scarping lightly against the porcelain. The sound was small, barely audiences, but it sliceed through the human of my parents' conversation like a blade. I watched her, my chin resting on my palm, and tried to decipher what was going on behind those doe-like eyes of hers.

She was thinking about something - I could tell. The way her muscles in her jaw twitched, and every so often she would glance towards me, like she expected me to say something.

Apologize, maybe.

Or smile. Or offer her some kind of mercy I never had.

She should have known better by now.

"I'm finished," she murmured suddenly, her voice so faint it barely existed.

Mom frowned. "But you barely touched your food."

"I'm not hungry."

Of course she wasn't. Haisley never was. She fed on guilt, sadness and silence.

"Go ahead," Dad said absently, waving his hand. "Just rinse your plate."

She rose from her chair, careful and slow like she always was, afraid to make too much noise. I followed her very movement with my eyes,watching how the light brushed her pale hair, how her fingers trembled as she picked up her plate. It was almost beautiful - that fragility. Like a porcelain doll you could drop just to hear it shatter.

She turned to go, her shoulder brushing mine. For a moment, she froze. I felt her tense, her breath caught in her throat, and I smiled without meaning to. She could feel it - my control. She always could.

"Hazel," Mom said sharply, pulling my gaze away. "Stop glaring at Haisely like that."

I blinked, feigning innocence. "Like what?"

"Like you're angry at her."

"I'm not angry," I lied easily, my tone sweet as sugar. "I'm just... watching."

Mom sighed and shook her head, muttering

something about teenage moods, They were just to blind, too blind to see the difference between us and I leaned back in my chair, letting my gaze drift back toward Haisley. She was at the sink, rinsing her plate under the cold water, her back trembling slightly. The water ran and ran, even after the plate was clean. She was stalling - I knew it. Maybe trying to stop herself from crying. Maybe trying to make herself disappear.

Pathetic.

~Haisley~

I sat on my bed, knees clutched to my chest, my breath is hallow and slow, the eerie silence is deafening as the wall were holding thier breath. I hated how Hazel always had a way of intimating me. How she would always stare at me as if she could tell what was going on in my mind.

The moonlight pierce inside my room, spilling on the floor, the gentle cool breeze fanned my skin.

The room felt too still, too quiet, almost as if the shadows themselves were watching me. The soft rustle of the wind outside was the only sound that dared to break the oppressive silence, but even that seemed to be holding its breath. I didn't know how long I had been sitting here, curled into myself like I was trying to dissappear. Time had stopped the moment Hazel and I shared eye contact. The way her eyes locked onto mine, cutting through my defenses legs they didn't even exist, left me paralyzed. The was a weight to her gaze that I couldn't escape.

It felt as though she could read every single thought I had, as if my secret were no longer mine. And I hated it.

I had wanted to scream at her, tell her to stop looking at me like that. But the words wouldn't come, they never did. They lodged in my throat like stones, heavy and immovable. I was terrified-terrified of her, terrified of how she could slice through my walls with nothing more than a glance.

Why did she have to be so... so Hazel?

She knew how to manipulate everything in her favor. She had that power, that subtlety. Knew how to make people small without even trying. And yet, somehow, despite how much I loathed the way she made me feel, there was something else in her that I couldn't ignore.

The soft breeze stirred the curtains, and I could almost imagine her standing there, behind me, her presence filling the room. My mind wandered. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push that thought away. But it lingered like smoke.

I sprawled on the mattress letting nature take over as my eyelids slowly pull me into darkness - where I would be safe for a while.

°

°

°

°

It was the next morning, and my stomach is tight with knots, I nervously pick up my pencil placing the wood into my back carefully. With some encouraging words I walk out of to the dining table- All three of them, clearly having a great time without me, Hazel shows her flawless smile that seemed to melt my parent's heart.

"I will be waiting outside, Hazel," I say faintly, I didn't have the appetite for food, she gives a sharp nod waving her hand, dismissive lyrics, like she was already anticipating my retreat.

"I'll be right out," she said lightly, her voice as smooth as silk. "I'm just finishing up. You don't mind waiting, do you?"

I nodded sharply, my throat tight. "No, I'm fine," I managed to say, though I was anything but. I turned quickly, my feet moving faster than my mind could keep up with, and I made my way to the door.

I finally breathe out, without even realizing that I was holding it in,the opening sound of the door echoed and I turned to face her, my heart racing. She was standing a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, her posture as effortlessly perfect as ever. Her blonde hair framed her face, and her lips curled into that smile again-sweet, innocent, and yet so unbearably loaded.

"Let's get going," she says cooling walking past me, leaving a wave of perfume as she walked.The smell of it-sweet and floral-clung to my clothes as I followed her to the car, sliding into the driver's seat.

I sat rigid in the passenger's seat, fingers white around the strap of my bag. I would rather take the bus- anything but this slient ride with Hazel who had not even acknowledged my presence. I stared out the window, watching the world blur past us, my thoughts too loud in my head.

When we arrived, Hazel slipped out first, phone in her hand, a cold mask if indifference in her face, she didn't even wait for me, didn't even glance. I slipped out behind her, careful not to attract attention.

I had only taken a few steps, when the air changed.

Two figures.

Moved through the crowd with ease- such precision. Every step was poised, controlled, like they had a rhythm that no one else could follow.

Xavier.

I recognized him immediately, Even from this distance, I could see it. He walked like he owned the air around him, like he owned time itself, the space between seconds. The world seemed to bend around him as if it knew it couldn't compete. His shoulders were broad beneath a black sleeveless shirt, tattoos of intricate designs snaking down his arms. The inked seemed to pulse with life, like it was as much as a part of him as his skin. He didn't walk; he commanded the ground beneath him to bend to his will.

As he passes, his eyes flicked over to me, and for a split second, our gazes met.

I froze.

My heart raced, a staccato beat that echoed in my chest. I wasn't sure why

He smiled and whispered something to the other one,-who I assumed to be his companion-looked over at me, eyes narrowing in amusement, before they both broke into a laugh. I felt my stomach twist, confused, unsure of what was happening.

Why were they looking at me like that?

I turned away, my cheeks burning, not sure if I was imagining things or if there was some deeper meaning behind their actions. But the feeling of their eyes on me, the weight of their laughter, clung to me like a shadow

Suddenly the bell jolted me to reality, reminding me of the days work. I held my bag tight. No time to think about boys, I needed to get to class

Invisible, unnoticed - I reminded myself

~Haisley~

I pushed open the two double doors to the art studio, my breath catching in my throat the moment I stepped inside. The space was huge- tall windows spilled the soft morning light onto rows of easels, shelves stacked with paint, brushes, and canvases waiting for stories to be born. The faint smell of paint oil and charcoal wrapped around me like a web.

Now,this...this was where I belonged, stepping in deep I let my fingers brush over each easels I pass savoring each tingling sensations that it sent to me. I dropped to a seat next to the corner

I focused on the canvas in front of me-a blank slate that could absorb all my turmoil and transform it into something beautiful.

The instructor, a kind- faced man with a spark in his eye, started the lesson with a warm smile, but I barely heard hid words. My mind wandered back to Xavier, to the simmering tension between us, and to the way he had looked at me-like I was both prey and a puzzle he was determined to solve.

"Alright, everyone, let's get started on expressing emotion through color today!" the instructor announced, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I picked up my brush,the wood grazing in my fingers, letting the vibrant reds and blues swirl together on the canvas. With every stroke, I poured my frustrations and fears into the artwork, channeling the energy that had built up inside me. The colors danced wildly, reflecting the storm brewing within.

After class, I lingered a bit longer, lost in my painting. The room was filled with the soft murmurs of students chatting and retrieving their belongings, but I remained immersed in my work. Time slipped away as I mixed colors and applied them to the canvas, losing myself in the process.

I smiled to myself when I saw what I had just created, my heart racing with happiness as I walk out of the studio.The sunlight outside had softened, casting a warm glow on the pavement as I stepped out of the art studio, my heart still fluttering with that familiar rush of satisfaction. The door clicked shut behind me, the world outside feeling a little less heavy after losing myself in that painting.

I hesitated at the door before pushing it open. The scent of expensive perfume and hairspray hit me first, mixed with the faint echo of laughter bouncing off marble walls. The dressing room was massive more like a private lounge than a changing room. Plush white benches, gleaming lockers, designer bags and shoes scattered like careless trophies.

I froze near the entrance, clutching my bag against my chest.I hadn't expected crowd on the bathroom. Around me, the other girls peeled off their designer jackets and swapped them for tight branded sports bras and tiny shorts, their giggles sharp like tiny knives. A few glanced at me but then looked away, as if I were a smudge on the polished floor.

I shuffled sideways, trying to find a quiet corner where she could breathe. My throat tightened. I felt like a ghost drifting through a world I'd never belong to.

Suddenly I felt a hand clamping to my hair, yanking me backwards causing me to hiss in pain-Rebecca. The same girl who had made it a habit to pass cruel remarks whenever I was within earshot. The same girl who had a sharp tongue and a nasty way of turning everyone's attention on me, like I was some kind of target. I didn't know why she had it out for me. Maybe it was because I never joined in her loud, bitchy gossip sessions, or maybe it was because I refused to be intimidated by her clique.

She turned to me, eyes glinting with a mischievous flame. "Well, well, well. Just in time Haisely," she says each word dripping with venom, rolling a strand of hair in her fingers as her gaze swept on me. I felt the familiar weight settle on my chest as Rebecca's eyes narrowed, her gaze sharp as glass. It was like a switch flipped in her brain whenever I walked into her orbit, and the whole world became her stage for whatever cruel performance she had in mind. The group around her giggled, their voices dripping with that fake sweetness that made my skin crawl.

Rebecca clicked her tongue, as if she were disappointed. "You know, you could always join us. We could teach you how to, you know... actually fit in."

The air around us thickened. The group snickered, clearly enjoying this little moment of humiliation they'd carved out for me. But I wasn't about to let them pull me in. Not today.

I turned to leave, but then I heard her, soft and almost mocking. "What, you think you're special now, with your little art project?"

My hand faltered for a second as I reached for my bag, and a part of me wanted to turn around, fire back with something sharp and clever.

"Aren't you tired of hiding under your sister's shadow?" Rebecca taunted, eyes on her manicured fingers, knowing she had hit the right spot. My grip on my bag tightened, knuckles white. "I really need to go" I say, my voice barely beyond a whisper. But she had other plans, "No, Haisley.. I think you should stay here with us, besides am bored and it won't hurt if I had some toy to play with"

I could feel the heat rise in my face, the sting of her words wrapping around me like a vice. My chest tightened with each second that dragged on. "You think I'm just some toy, Rebecca?" I said, my voice strained but steady, barely keeping the tremble in check.

She tilted her head, a mocking little smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Well, aren't you? You're just... so easy to push around." She leaned in slightly, as if savoring the moment, watching me struggle to keep my composure.

The group around her laughed softly, like this was some kind of performance they'd all rehearsed, just waiting for their cue.

She shoved me on my shoulder, pushing me closer to a tiny room "Don't take it too personal." she whispers

Then click.

I was locked inside a tiny space, surrounded by darkness, I scrambled up and banged my fists against the door. "Open up! Let me out!" My voice cracked but no one answered I could already hear the laughter fading, their footsteps echoing away. I pressed her ear to the door but only silence came back.

A small sigh behind her made me jump. I turned around quickly, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. A girl sat cross-legged on the cold floor, her back against the wall. Her hair was messy, and faint bruises bloomed purple beneath her cheekbone.

"They won't open it," the girl said calmly, as if they were discussing the weather.

"What?" my voice was sharp with disbelief. "This is insane what is this?"

The girl lifted her eyes tired but not surprised. 

"Am Kathy by the way"

"Haisley," I whispered back, offering a small, sad smile.

My breath trembled as I slid down beside her, knees tucked tight to my chest. "This is so unfair," I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of it.The coldness of the floor seeped through my jeans as I sank down beside her, feeling every inch of the hopelessness that came with being trapped in a tiny, dark room. The silence that had settled around us was deafening, a thick blanket that smothered every thought and emotion, leaving me feeling like I was suffocating.

The girl-Kathy, she said-was still sitting there, leaning against the wall with an eerie calmness. She didn't seem rattled by the situation at all. Maybe she'd been here before, maybe she knew what it was like to be stuck in this little prison of cruelty.

I swallowed, my throat tight. "Kathy... What's going on? Why are you here?"

She glanced at me, her eyes tired but holding some unspoken understanding. "Guess you could say we're both on the same level now, huh?"

I furrowed my brow. "What do you mean?"

I didn't know how long we stayed there, talking in that small, dark room. But when the door finally opened again, it wasn't Rebecca who came back. It wasn't any of the girls.

I didn't know how long we stayed there, talking in that small, dark room. But when the door finally opened again, it wasn't Rebecca who came back. It wasn't any of the girls.

It was one of the staff members, a tall woman in a uniform, her expression shifting between confusion and frustration as she took in the scene before her. "What's going on here?" she demanded, her voice sharp as she looked from Kathy to me, her eyes narrowing.

Kathy stood up slowly, brushing herself off. "We're locked in here," she said coolly. "And we'd like to leave."

The staff member raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response. "Who locked you in?" she asked, but Kathy just gave a dry laugh.

"Do you think it matters?"

For a moment, the woman didn't know what to say. She glanced down at the door's lock, then back at us, and finally gave a long sigh, stepping aside. "You can go now."

Kathy left, waving at me leaving me all alone. By the time I reached the courtyard, the wide grassy pitch was nearly empty.

I caught a glimpse of Hazel walking past me, surrounded by a small circle of perfectly styled girls. They didn't even glance my way like I was just air. I watched Hazel's cold expression disappear into the crowd before turning away, my throat tight.

My head throbbed faintly from being locked up earlier. I needed a moment alone, maybe splash cold water on my face wash this day away. I pushed through the doors of the nearest restroom, eyes focused on the cracked tiles under my shoes.

But when I lifted my head my breath caught in my throat.

There, near the far wall under the flickering yellow light, Xavier leaned back casually as if this was his private bedroom. His shirt was gone, tattoos twisting across his tensed arms and chest. A girl completely naked was pinned between his body and the cold wall, her long legs locked tight around his waist. Her head was thrown back, mouth open in a moan that echoed off the cheap tiles.

I froze. My bag slipped down my shoulder unconsciously but I didn't feel it hit the floor. Heat crawled up my neck and burned my ears I couldn't move, couldn't even breathe.

Then Xavier looked up.

Our eyes locked across the filthy, echoing room his dark, heavy gaze pinning me there. He wasn't surprised. He didn't flinch. A slow smirk curved his lips sharp, cruel like he wanted me to see.

And then, without looking away from me, he grabbed the girl harder, driving into her rough enough to make her gasp out another shameless moan. My pulse roared in my ears. I wanted to run, to slam the door shut, but my legs wouldn't move.

I could feel his stare on my skin like heat and ice at once watching me watch him. My hands trembled at my sides.

Then the girl turned her head slightly, eyes fluttering open and for a second, she met my horrified gaze too. But the girl only moaned louder, clinging to Xavier like she'd fall apart if he let go.

I stumbled back, my shoulder hitting the door. I fumbled for the handle, heart pounding so hard it hurt. But Xaiver just kept watching me like I was next. Like I'd already been chosen.