Chapter 1:THE DROWNING & THE CITY
1039 Words
I didn’t move here to start over. I moved here because staying where I was felt like drowning.
Those were the first words that echoed in my head the moment the bus doors hissed open and Riverton’s cold air slapped my face. People say a new city gives you a clean slate, a fresh page, a new sense of self, but they never mention the loneliness that comes with it the kind that settles in your bones before the city even knows your name.
I held my bag a little tighter, stepped onto the pavement, and felt the weight of everything I’d left behind: the noise, the expectations, the unspoken disappointments, and the constant quiet ache of pretending I was fine. Riverton wasn’t a dream to me. It was an escape hatch.
The street was busy, the kind of busy that didn’t wait for anyone cars passing, lights blinking, strangers breathing the same air but living completely different realities. And me? I felt like the world had hit pause on everything except my thoughts.
I was twenty.
Technically an adult.
Emotionally?
Barely holding the pieces together.
My eyes stung from exhaustion. My body felt like it was dragging shadows behind it. I had just walked out of another interview where the smiles were polite and the rejection was silent but loud enough for me to hear.
Maybe next time.
We’ll be in touch.
You have potential, but…
Every sentence ending with a door closing in my face.
By the time I got out, the sun had already slipped under the skyscrapers, the city dipped in shades of soft gold and tired blue. Riverton looked beautiful at this hour unfairly beautiful. Like it didn’t care that someone in its streets was falling apart quietly.
I adjusted my tote bag, trying to remind myself that this struggle had a purpose. But the truth? Moving had felt less like a decision and more like survival. Back home, everything suffocated me the walls, the routine, the feeling of standing in the same spot while life sprinted ahead of me.
Here, at least, I could breathe.
Even if the air was cold.
I hadn’t walked five minutes before a gust of wind whipped my hair into a mess. I tugged it out of my face, huffing softly. Riverton’s breeze wasn’t gentle; it felt like it was testing me asking if I was truly ready to be here.
I was still brushing my hair aside when I heard it: the slow roll of a car creeping beside me.
I froze.
Great.
Exactly what I needed unwanted attention on a day that had already been too loud.
I didn’t look up at first. I kept walking, my steps sharper, faster. But the car didn’t speed away.
It matched my pace.
Smooth. Controlled.
Too intentional.
Then the window rolled down.
I stopped breathing for a second.
Hey,a low, calm voice said. “You dropped this.”
I looked up.
And I saw him.
A man maybe twenty-four, maybe trouble, maybe both sitting behind the wheel of a black SUV that looked entirely out of place on this quiet street. His eyes were sharp, studious in a way that made me feel like he was dissecting my exhaustion without judgment.
My wallet was in his hand.
My chest sank.
I hadn’t even realized it was missing.
Oh. I stepped closer, heart thudding. Thank you. I didn’t even notice…
You look tired, he said simply.
Not flirtatious.
Not invasive.
Just observant in a way that made the air shift.
I’ve… had a long day,I admitted.
His gaze softened, just a little. Riverton can be overwhelming. Especially at first.”
There was something in his tone a quiet understanding, like he had felt the weight of this city too.
Can I have the wallet? I asked gently.
He nodded, but didn’t hand it over immediately. It wasn’t hesitation more like he wanted me to meet his eyes first. When I finally did, something in my chest flickered.
He held it out. Our fingers brushed when I took it.
Warm. Steady.
He felt grounded the opposite of me.
Be careful,he said, leaning back slightly. This city steals things fast.
His voice carried ease, but his eyes carried something else something unreadable. Something that made my breath slow down without my permission.
Then it happened.
The moment that tilted everything.
His back door clicked open from the inside just a little. A soft push.
He glanced at it, then back at me.
I stepped back instinctively. I’m not going with you.
He blinked confused, then amused.
Relax,he said. That wasn’t for you.
Before I could ask what he meant, a little girl slid out from the back seat tiny, messy curls, big sleepy eyes, hugging a pink jacket around herself.
Zayn? she mumbled. Are we home yet?
Zayn.
That was his name.
He turned, his features softening instantly. Almost. Stay inside, Luna.
She nodded and crawled back in, shutting the door.
I stared.
He wasn’t a random man trying to pick up girls.
He wasn’t flirting.
He wasn’t dangerous.
He was… something else.
Someone else.
And now I couldn’t walk away.
You’re her… dad? I asked quietly.
No, he said. Brother.
The answer came fast, almost too fast, like he didn’t want me misunderstanding him for even a breath.
He looked at me again deeper this time. You should get home safely, Amara.
My pulse skipped.
I never told him my name.
I swallowed. How did you..
He tapped my wallet lightly. Your ID.
Oh.
Right.
Heat crawled up my neck.
Thank you again,I said softly.
He nodded once a slow, assured movement before rolling the window back up. The SUV pulled forward, smooth as a shadow, disappearing down the street.
I stood there for a long second, the cold biting my face, my mind replaying the moment like a scene I wasn’t ready to let go of.
I didn’t know who he was.
Why he’d been there.
Why he’d noticed me.
Why he felt… familiar in a strange way.
But the truth settled in my chest quietly:
Riverton wasn’t drowning me.
It was waking something up.
And Zayn
whoever he was
was the first person to see me in this city.
- Writer
