Chapter 3: After the Bell
592 Words
Chapter 3: After the Bell
The final bell rang through the halls of Quirino State University, echoing like a gentle sigh of relief. Students gathered their things in a flurry—chatter and laughter filling the air as they spilled out of the classrooms into the afternoon sun.
Celestia Rivera walked beside her friend, Aira, their conversation picking up where they left off in class.
"I still can't believe Jiwoo confessed in the rain," Aira said, tossing her hair back.
"That scene gave me goosebumps!"
Celestia let out a small laugh.
"Right? I replayed it like, three times. He looked so broken... and then he kissed her like it was the end of the world."
Aira sighed dreamily. "Ugh, I want a love like that. Tragic, cinematic, unforgettable."
Celestia smiled, soft and subtle. "You'd get tired of the crying after one week."
"Still worth it."
The two of them exited the campus gates, their steps slowing in the warmth of the afternoon. From the outside, Celestia looked untouched by anything. Her hair still neat, her laughter still light.
But once Aira left—after the final wave and quick goodbye—Celestia was alone.
The walk home wasn't far. Her house stood quietly behind tall, sleek gates—a modern design with wide glass windows and trimmed gardens.
The kind of home people admired. The kind people assumed was filled with warmth and family.
Celestia entered.
Silence.
She set her bag down gently and looked around. Everything was spotless.
Air-conditioned stillness filled the space.
No voices.
No footsteps.
No one asking how her day was.
She didn't cry. She didn't frown.
She simply said, "I'm home," to the quiet.
Then walked up to her room and closed the door behind her.
1 The campus was starting to quiet down, but life hadn't fully faded from the streets of Diffun.
Near the dorms, a small park offered a patch of green surrounded by concrete and rusting bike racks.
Marcus sat on a bench beneath a narra tree, a book in his hands and music humming through his earphones. The song was soft but upbeat, something he'd found on a random playlist weeks ago. It had become background noise for days like this.
Kids played tag a few meters away, laughing loud enough to be noticed but not disruptive. A vendor pushed a cart of fish balls across the sidewalk, the scent of frying oil blending with the fresh afternoon breeze.
Marcus flipped a page, only half-focused. His eyes occasionally drifted to the sky or the people passing by. It was a normal kind of lonely—not painful, just... quiet. Familiar.
A sudden hand slapped his shoulder.
"Bro!" a voice said.
Marcus looked up, startled, then broke into a small grin. "Lorenzo?"
"Man, I knew that was you. Still got that weird serious look," Lorenzo laughed, dropping into the seat beside him.
He was a little bulkier now, head shaved clean, wearing a loose black hoodie with "BSCRIM" stitched on the sleeve.
"You got louder," Marcus replied, half-laughing.
"I upgraded," Lorenzo said with a wink. "And you? Still hiding behind books and music?"
Marcus raised his book slightly, grinning. "Still cheaper than therapy."
Lorenzo let out a short laugh, then leaned back. "It's good seeing you, man. It's been a while."
Marcus nodded, and for a few minutes, they just sat there—watching people, trading small comments.
The world hadn't changed much, but something about having someone next to him again made the evening feel different.
Maybe not better.
But less empty.
- Writer
