In the Time of Stars✨# 1

Myra meets Cove at camp. Quit love grows, but time is cruel, leaving her changed forever.

The shrill sound of her alarm pierced through the quiet, dragging her from the warmth of her dreams. From beneath a cocoon of blankets, a hand emerged, blindly searching for the phone on her nightstand. A sleepy swipe, and silence returned.

With a sigh, Myra peeled back the heavy blanket, reluctantly greeting the day. She sat on the edge of her bed, hair wild and eyes half-lidded, still caught between the lingering pull of sleep and the reality of morning. The soft glow of her phone screen illuminated her wrinkled clothes, the digits reading 7:00 AM—a reminder that college awaited.
She lingered for a moment, clutching the phone, staring at the numbers as if they held the secret to time itself. With another sigh, she knew the routine: freshen up, get ready, face the world outside her quiet sanctuary. As soon as her feet hit the cold floor, the quiet cocoon of her room seemed to fade away. The moment she stepped out, the mask went on, as it always did. She grabbed her towel and dashed to the bathroom, slipping into the routine she’d perfected—a silent performance for the world outside.

The line of girls waiting for the same thing as her was already there, their voices blending into a background hum. She waited her turn, observing them as always. There was the short girl with curly black hair, brushing her teeth with the same mechanical precision. Then, the tall girl—always with her face creams, moisturizers, and cleansing tonics, as if she had an image to uphold.

It was a dance she knew well, the unnoticed role she played each day as she stood there, watching their routines, wondering if anyone else felt as disconnected from the world around them as she did. Here, outside her room, the mask was necessary. No one knew the real her. Finally, it was her turn. She moved through the motions of cleaning up, the familiar routine offering little comfort. As she stood there, her mind wandered to the same question that always lingered: Was it even worth it? The effort she put into waiting, getting ready, dressing—yet, no one ever noticed. No one ever looked at her, not the way she hoped. It was like she existed in the background, a shadow among the rest.

With a sigh, she slipped into her usual outfit: black jeans, a blue hoodie—simple, unremarkable. As she finished, the dullness of the morning settled over her once more. Breakfast awaited. She grabbed the bag she’d already packed the night before, the weight of it familiar and comforting, and made her way to the hostel mess. From this point until her last class, she would become someone else—a version of herself she’d perfected for the outside world. When she entered the mess, the shift was almost palpable. She was greeted by her friends and classmates, though the distinction between the two was always clear in her mind. Her friends were simply the ones she sat next to during lectures, those with whom she shared the mundane exchanges of the day. Her classmates were everyone else—people in the same class, the ones she passed in hallways, the ones she observed but never truly connected with.

It was always the same routine: sitting at the table with the people who seemed to know everything about what was happening on campus—the gossip, the events, the latest whispers. She didn’t fit into their world naturally, but she had learned long ago that she didn’t need to. As long as she sat quietly, smiled when necessary, and listened, she gathered all the information she needed. Information that she would never have gotten if she allowed herself to be just… herself.

Bag slung over her shoulder, she stepped out of the hostel and into the crisp morning air. The campus was already buzzing with life—students hurrying to classes, chatting in clusters, or glued to their phones. She walked quietly, blending into the flow of people like a drop in a stream, her footsteps almost inaudible amidst the hum of university life.
But her eyes always drifted toward the couples—those so-called “lovebirds” who had been together since the start of university. Now, in their second year, many still walked hand in hand, sharing quiet moments and stolen glances. Of course, some relationships had faded, but many endured. ‘What would it be like,’ she wondered, ‘to meet someone who just fits? To share every little detail and create stories together?’ Lost in thought, she slid into her usual seat in the lecture hall.

“Hey, where are you lost?” The familiar voice snapped her back to reality. Joie, her best friend, plopped down beside her, grinning. “I called you… so many times I’ve lost count. Whatcha thinking?”
She blinked, a little flustered. “Oh, nothing,” she mumbled, trying to push the daydream away.
“Okay, now that you’re back to reality,” Joie teased, eyes sparkling with excitement, “there’s a trip this Saturday. You in?” She spoke like it was the adventure of a lifetime.
“Well…”
“Oh, come on! At least ask a question before rejecting it. Like, I don’t know… where maybe?”
“It’s the last thing I’m worried about,” Myra muttered, eyes fixed on the desk. She wasn’t just avoiding Joie’s gaze; she was shielding the worries swirling inside her, afraid they might spill over.
“Hey,” Joie said softly, her voice sweet as sugar and calm as the ocean. She placed a gentle hand on Myra’s shoulder. “Look, I know it’s tough for you to go to places like that. You know, crowded, noisy places where it feels like everyone else belongs. But remember, you’ve got the biggest supporter right here.”
Myra glanced up, meeting Joie’s warm, reassuring eyes, her curiosity piqued by the pause.
“And… I need new embarrassing photos of you,” Joie finished with a mischievous grin.
“You!” Myra exclaimed, playfully smacking Joie’s shoulder. Laughter bubbled up between them, lightening the moment.

Their laughter faded as the professor walked in, and the room fell silent. But the smile lingered on Myra’s lips, a small reminder that, no matter what, she wasn’t facing this world alone.
As the class ended and students shuffled out, Joie turned to Myra with an expectant look. “So, about the trip…” she started, leaning in closer, “I’ll give you some time to think, but don’t make me wait too long, okay?” Her eyes twinkled with a mix of excitement and playful impatience. “I need to start planning your photo ops.”
Myra rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’ll let you know.”
Joie grinned, giving a dramatic sigh. “Fine, but I’ll be waiting!” she called out, already skipping ahead, her laughter trailing behind her like sunlight.

As Myra walked back to her hostel, Joie’s words echoed in her mind. ‘I’ll be waiting.’ That was Joie—always waiting, always there. She was a storm of energy, unpredictable and bold, yet somehow gentle in all the right ways.
Myra couldn’t help but marvel at her. Joie moved through life with a confidence that seemed effortless. She could strike up a conversation with anyone, turn strangers into friends, and make the most mundane moments feel extraordinary. ‘How does she do it?’ Myra often wondered.

It wasn’t just Joie’s charm; It was her warmth. Beneath the playful teasing and mischievous grin was someone who truly cared. She saw through Myra’s walls, never pushing too hard but never letting her retreat too far either. In a world where Myra often felt invisible, Joie made her feel seen.
‘Maybe that’s why I can’t say no to this trip,’ Myra thought, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Soon, she reached her room and plopped onto her bed, eyes closed. The day’s events were replayed in her mind like a film, scanning for any mistakes.Everything was familiar—except for the one question lingering in her thoughts: the trip.

Just as Myra started to lose herself in thought, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She glanced at the screen: Mum.
“Hi, Mum,” she answered, her voice betraying a hint of hesitation.
“How was your day, Myra?” her mother asked, her tone warm and comforting, like it always was.
“Same as always,” Myra replied, tracing a finger along the edge of her blanket. She could feel her thoughts drifting, the weight of the upcoming weekend pressing down on her.
In the background, Myra could hear her father’s voice rising, loud and sharp. “I told you, don’t touch that! You never listen!” He was yelling at her mother again, the familiar tension between them thick in the air.
Her mother’s voice came through, strained but gentle, trying to calm the storm in the background. “I was thinking… Maybe you could come home this weekend? We haven’t seen you in a while.”

Myra’s stomach twisted at the sound of her father’s angry words cutting through the phone line. She loved her family, but the constant fighting made it impossible to feel at peace. She wanted nothing more than to avoid that tension, if only for a little while longer.

“I don’t know, Mum,” Myra said, keeping her voice light. “I was thinking of going on that trip with Joie this weekend.”
“Oh?” Her mother’s tone faltered slightly, disappointment mixing with concern. “I understand, but remember, it’s important to spend time with your family, too. We miss you.”
The angry voice continued in the background, a constant reminder of why she’d rather stay away. She closed her eyes, trying to push the guilt aside. She did miss them, but how could she face the constant clashes between them?
“Yeah, I know, Mum,” Myra said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady. “I’ll come home soon. I just… need a break this weekend.”
There was a brief pause, then her mother’s voice softened, the usual firmness replaced by a sigh of resignation. “Alright, sweetheart. Just be careful, okay? Don’t stay away too long.”
“I won’t,” Myra promised, though she knew the pull to escape would always be there. As she ended the call, her thoughts lingered on her family. She loved them—she always would—but sometimes it felt like the only way to breathe was to step away.