Girl in the Photo
1119 Words
Chapter 6
It was well past midnight, but Jayson still couldn't sleep.
His mind kept running in circles, replaying tomorrow's worst-case scenarios on loop-school starting, Ofreigha walking through the gates, and boys turning their heads to chase after her. Just the thought made his jaw clench.
He wasn't going to let that happen.
He'd find a way to keep her close-next to him, away from the noise, protected from attention. His chest tightened just thinking about it.
Still restless, Jayson reached for his DSLR camera. Maybe going through his gallery would help calm him down. As he scrolled through his photos-shots of Ofreigha walking, smiling, even frowning-his thumb paused on one unfamiliar picture.
It wasn't Ofreigha.
It was Miexha Verra.
The heiress of the Wayne Empire.
She looked like a living doll-petite, porcelain-skinned, with eyes too large for her face.
Jayson blinked.
Oh right. That blind date. She was once his fiance.
He hadn't wanted to go, but he did it for Zatariel-his best friend and the reigning king of sarcasm. Zatariel had made it very clear he was head-over-heels for Miexha, and Jayson had been warned: Don't mess this up, or I'll mess you up.
Zatariel might be skinny and allergic to sunlight, but Jayson wasn't eager to find out how hard that punch would land.
So, Jayson had done his best to be a perfect gentleman-smiled politely, asked nice questions, and avoided saying anything weird.
But apparently... he overdid it.
Flashback
Jayson was overdressed.
He tugged at his collar for the tenth time in five minutes, silently cursing Zatariel under his breath.
"One blind date. Just one. Her father chose you instead of me, but it's better you than Thyron," his best friend had said.
"Don't ruin it. Don't talk too much. Don't talk too little. Don't be creepy. And for the love of all things digital, don't make her cry."
Easier said than done.
He sat at the edge of a plush chair inside a luxurious rooftop restaurant, his DSLR bag tucked beside him like an emotional support pet. He checked the time.
Then the door opened.
Miexha stepped in quietly, her soft floral dress catching the glow of the sunset. Her eyes scanned the room with a flicker of anxiety before landing on him.
Small and dainty, she approached slowly, like she wasn't sure if she should sit or run.
"H-hi... I'm Miexha," she said softly, voice barely above a whisper.
Jayson stood awkwardly and offered a handshake like he was greeting a diplomat.
"I'm Jayson. You're... shorter than I expected."
Her eyes widened.
Dead silence.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
But then, she chuckled nervously, covering her mouth.
"Well, you're... a refrigerator. So I guess we're even?"
He blinked.
"That was... good. That was funny."
She relaxed into the chair, her shoulders a little less tense.
"You're nervous, huh?"
"I was told not to make you cry," he admitted.
She giggled-genuinely this time.
"That's sweet. But I don't cry easily. Except when I watch anime. Or see sad cats."
As the night went on, Miexha bloomed like a flower in spring. Once the small talk melted away, she couldn't stop laughing. She teased him about his serious face. She was fascinated by his photography, but insisted his smile looked "like a cartoon villain's."
"You have this intense 'I-know-your-password' stare," she said mid-laugh, poking his arm.
"I was scared at first, but you're actually a big softie!"
Jayson couldn't believe it.
A girl so small... who didn't cry.
A girl who laughed. At his bad jokes.
By the end of the date, Miexha wiped a tear from her eye-from laughing too hard.
"Riel said you were weird," she said, standing up.
"But you're a good weird. Still-don't fall for me or anything, okay? I like Zatariel Wov."
Jayson nodded slowly, smiling.
"Noted. No falling."
"Good. But if you do..." She gave him a playful wink. "Run fast."
They watched a violin performance together after that. Miexha kept humming the tune, smiling softly.
Before Miexha move to their mansion he called Zatariel.
Zatariel picked up on the third ring.
"So about the blind date, did you glitch and blue screen?"
"She didn't cry."
A pause. Then: "How did it go?"
"Too small.... in person.. She... laughed. Like, a lot. She called me a refrigerator. And creepy. Then big softie."
Another pause.
"You made Miexha Verra laugh?" Zatariel's voice was flat.
"Yeah. She said I'm good weird."
"Jay..." Zatariel sighed deeply.
"Listen to me very carefully. She's off-limits. If you even dream about her, I'll invade your subconscious and unplug your brain."
Jayson rolled his eyes.
"I wasn't even trying. You asked me to be nice!"
"I said be nice. I didn't say charm her with your awkward dad jokes. I know you, man."
"She's not even my type," Jayson muttered.
Zatariel huffed.
"Good. Keep it that way. Or I'm uninstalling our friendship."
Then he hung up.
Jayson stood there, blinking.
"...He didn't even say thank you."
Present
Jayson shook his head now, lying back on his bed, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Before going to sleep, he sat by his desk. The soft hum of the printer broke the silence. A freshly printed photo slid out-Miexha, mid-laugh, the wind catching her hair during that blind date months ago. He stared at it for a long moment, his thumb brushing the edge like he could smooth away the ache it now carried.
Miexha wasn't his fiance anymore. They break it after she passed the green garden exam.
She belonged to someone now-Thyron Sebastian-a political match arranged by her father.
Jayson knew Zatariel was trying to act unbothered, throwing sarcasm like smoke screens. But he knew better.
His best friend was broken.
And all Jayson could do was hand him a picture that might make it worse... or bring a sliver of comfort.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, the glow of his monitors painting faint shadows across the room.
They were elite children. Not normal kids. Their lives were measured in headlines, alliances, and public expectations. They couldn't choose freely. They couldn't just like someone without consequences.
Their futures were already written-by legacy, by duty, by family names that weighed too heavily.
Jayson held the photo up one more time. Miexha was still smiling.
He sighed, quietly slipping it into an envelope.
"You really liked her, huh, Zat..."
He placed it beside his bag so he wouldn't forget it tomorrow. Then he lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing things were different for all of them.
But this was reality.
And in reality, love didn't always win.
Still... tomorrow?
Tomorrow was about Ofreigha.
And he wasn't going to let anyone take her away.
- Writer
