Episode:3(Strangers in the same city)

It was a Saturday night, and the city buzzed with life. Neon signs flickered against the dark sky, and music spilled out of every open doorway. The streets around Club Indigo were crowded, loud, and alive.

Victor leaned against the counter at the rooftop bar, sipping his drink half-heartedly. He wore a sleek black jacket over a white shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to show the thin leather bracelet he always wore. His friends surrounded him—laughing, shouting over the music, daring each other into another round of shots.

He wasn’t really in the mood for all this. He rarely was. The parties were fun, sure, but they always felt a little hollow. The lights were too bright, the music too loud, and the people too eager to impress.

“C’mon, Victor, smile at least once tonight,” one of his friends joked, handing him another drink. “You’re the one with the perfect life.”

Victor just smirked and rolled his eyes. Perfect was such an empty word.

As he turned to leave the crowd and find a quieter spot, something—or someone—caught his eye near the far side of the bar. A boy in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, hair slightly disheveled, head down, balancing a tray with drinks. Carefully weaving through the crowd.

Peter.

Victor’s eyes widened slightly in recognition. No glasses this time. He looked different in the dim lighting—more tired, more real. A little older, even. But still unmistakably Peter.

He was working.

Peter moved efficiently, barely looking at the customers as he placed drinks on the tables. There was a subtle stiffness in his posture, like he was uncomfortable being here but had no choice. Victor took a step forward instinctively, wanting to call out—but then paused.

Peter turned slightly, tray now empty, and their eyes met for the second time that week.

It lasted less than a second.

Peter’s expression didn’t change. No spark of recognition. No smile. Not even surprise.

He looked at Victor like he was just another face in the crowd.

Then he turned away.

Victor stood there, stunned. For a moment, the sounds around him blurred. He wasn’t used to being ignored. Especially not by someone who had stared at him so intently just days ago.

Did he not recognize me? Or is he pretending?

Either way, it bothered him more than it should.

Monday morning arrived, and the school hallway buzzed as usual. Victor leaned casually against the locker just outside Room 11B, arms crossed, waiting.

Peter walked toward the classroom quietly, head lowered, fingers clutching the strap of his worn-out satchel. He didn’t notice Victor until—

“Hey,” Victor said flatly, stepping directly in front of him.

Peter blinked, startled. He looked up slowly.

Those hazel eyes. Still soft. Still distant.

“You gonna keep pretending you don’t know me?” Victor asked, voice low but steady.

Peter’s lips parted slightly, then closed again. “I wasn’t pretending,” he said quietly. “I was working.”

“So?” Victor raised an eyebrow. “You saw me. You looked right at me.”

Peter hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “It... it didn’t seem like the right time.”

Victor frowned. “What does that even mean?”

Peter looked down, almost apologetic. “You were with your friends. I was cleaning up tables. I didn’t want to make things weird.”

Victor took a breath, eyes narrowing slightly. “Weird how?”

Peter didn’t answer.

The hallway seemed quieter now, like it was watching them.

Victor took a step back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’re strange, you know that? Most people try to get my attention. You act like I’m invisible.”

Peter’s eyes finally lifted again, calm and unwavering. “You’re not invisible. You just live in a different world than I do.”

The bell rang.

Peter brushed past him gently, heading into the classroom.

Victor stood there for a few seconds longer, strangely affected by words that felt truer than he wanted to admit.

Different world.

Yeah.

But for some reason, he couldn’t stop looking into Peter

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