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The schoolyard buzzed with the usual spring energy.
Cherry blossoms danced with the breeze,
and the sun felt warm, like an old friend tapping your shoulder, saying,
"Another year, huh?"
Second-year entrance ceremony.
A fresh start—or so they say.
For most, it was just a shift in seating charts.
For me, it was please let me blend in again.
I sat at the back, as usual,
not because I wanted to be a loner,
but because… well, it's easier to watch the world than be part of it.
That's when I heard her name during roll call.
Same class… again.
My heart didn't skip a beat—
It tripped, stumbled, and full-on face-planted.
She entered like she owned the sunlight.
Hair tied loosely, uniform worn just right—casual, yet perfect.
People turned, whispered, smiled.
Of course they did.
She was the kind of girl people remembered.
And me?
I remembered every small moment from last year.
The way she handed me my pen when it rolled off the desk.
The way she said, "You're weird," with a grin that didn't feel cruel.
The way she laughed—like the world couldn't weigh her down.
We weren't close.
But not strangers either.
Sometimes she'd tease me in the hallway.
Sometimes she'd ask about the dumb doodles in my notebook.
And sometimes—just sometimes—she'd wait by the gates like she wasn't waiting.
But I never let myself hope.
Girls like her don't fall for guys like me.
Not in real life. Not in my kind of story.
Still… when she walked into the classroom and met my eyes—
smiled like she'd been looking for me all morning—
I felt something stir.
"Yo, clown. Still alive?"
That was how she greeted me.
And I smiled back, pretending it didn't mean the world.
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Monologue: "On Beginnings"
"Sometimes, the story doesn't start when you meet someone.
It begins when they choose to stay in your life—again.
And maybe… that's fate's way of giving you a second chance
to notice what you missed the first time."
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