Layleen
I wake up to a puffy face and red-rimmed eyes—just as I expected. Sleep barely came to me last night, my mind too restless, too caught up in the rush of emotions. The thought of finally having a friend, of taking the first real steps toward shaping my own future, had kept me wide awake.
A future I choose.
My nerves and excitement refuse to let me stay in bed any longer. By five-thirty in the morning, I'm already dressed and heading outside, not wanting to risk being late. If I struggle to find the training grounds, at least I'll have time to figure it out.
To my relief, the place isn't hard to find, and to my surprise, I'm not the only early bird here.
Oliver is already on the field, his athletic form moving with ease, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead under the dim morning light. He looks like he's been at it for a while.
"Hey, Layleen," he greets me with an easy smile, his tone warm and friendly.
