Between Being Used and Being Hated

“Kaivan, don’t sulk like that. We’re out on a nice walk, you should be happy,” Tania said, slipping her hand around his arm. “I think you’d look even more handsome if you smiled more.”

Kaivan forced a smile, though it felt like a burden. Deep inside, he knew this happiness wasn’t his. That smile was just another mask, one of many he had learned to wear in front of others.

As time passed, the distance between them became undeniable. Kaivan began to drift away, spending more time in the library, surrounded by stacks of books that became his escape from reality. Yet even then, his thoughts wandered endlessly. The shadow of Tania haunted him, like a ghost of the past that refused to fade.

He isolated himself, deliberately avoiding the cheerful laughter of his friends. Day after day, he chose the farthest corner of the library. Immersed in worlds of fiction, he often caught himself daydreaming, imagining a life where he had true companions, nakama who would walk beside him toward a shared purpose.

But no matter how deep he buried himself in fantasy, the weight of disappointment never left his heart. One afternoon, as he flipped through the pages of a novel, the sound of approaching footsteps broke his trance. Looking up, he found Tania standing before him, her smile radiant as ever.

“Kaivan, why are you always alone? Come on, talk to me!” she said brightly, pulling out the chair across from him without waiting for permission.

“I’m fine, Tania. Don’t worry about me,” he answered flatly, his hand trembling ever so slightly as it gripped the book.

Unsatisfied, Tania leaned closer. “Kaivan, I know you’re not fine. You don’t have to pretend. I’m here to listen.”

Kaivan exhaled deeply and closed his book with deliberate slowness. “I don’t want to burden anyone, Tania. It’s better if you don’t get involved.” His voice was quiet, yet resolute. With that, he stood up and walked away, leaving her stunned in silence.

Days turned into weeks, and Kaivan only withdrew further. Every invitation Tania extended, to hang out, to laugh, to share, was met with excuses that grew hollower with each refusal. The school, once lively, now felt like suffocating walls pressing in on him. Friends who once filled his days with warmth now seemed impossibly distant.

“Kaivan,” Tania called softly one afternoon, touching his shoulder as he stared blankly out the window. “Why are you like this? Did I do something wrong?”

He turned slowly, his vacant eyes meeting hers. “Tania… I need time alone.” His words were barely more than a whisper.

Tania bit her lip, her disappointment spilling into her voice. “I just want to help you, Kaivan. I care about you,” she pleaded, her eyes welling with unshed tears.

But Kaivan only shook his head. “I’m sorry… but I can’t.” And with that, he walked away once more, leaving Tania frozen in place.

Elsewhere, Tania vented her pain to her friends. In the corner of the cafeteria, she spoke with a trembling voice. “Why is Kaivan like this? I was serious about him. We even promised that after graduation, we’d take our relationship further.” Her head bowed, tears threatening to fall.

A girl with her hair tied in a ponytail placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “He doesn’t deserve you, Tania. You’ve turned down so many guys for him, and he just makes you cry.”

Those words stirred the group, igniting a tide of judgment. Soon, Kaivan became the easy target of their ridicule. In the classroom, the whispers turned to jeers, cutting deeper than any silence could.

“Hey, orphan boy! How dare you ignore the prettiest girl in school!” one voice mocked, sparking cruel laughter.

“Look at that haircut, like a bowl! Think you’re some kind of cool guy?” another sneered.

On a park bench, Kaivan sat alone, watching the autumn leaves fall. Memories of fleeting happiness resurfaced, so fragile they felt like dreams that had never been real. Without realizing it, tears trickled down his cheeks.

“To be close to Tania is to be used. To stay away from her is to be mocked,” he muttered to himself, his chest heavy with despair. He felt trapped, caught between two cliffs that promised only ruin.

“I won’t let this pain control me anymore,” he whispered hoarsely. Every insult, every wound, they would become bricks, stacked high to build his wall of protection. Perhaps one day, his life would be nothing more than chains guiding his steps forward, head bowed, dragged by a fate he could neither fight nor escape.

One night, in the depths of silence, Kaivan woke drenched in sweat. The nightmare had returned, faces mocking him, Tania laughing, and himself standing alone amidst ruin. He rubbed his face and stared into the mirror by his bed.

“Kaivan, what are you searching for?”

He asked the reflection, but no answer came. Only silence, deafening and suffocating.

When dawn broke, Kaivan made his way back to the library, the only place that ever gave him peace. There, he drowned himself in oceans of words, hoping to find a fragment of solace. Yet deep down, he knew escape was never the answer.

“Maybe one day, I won’t live like a hedgehog,” he thought, though doubt still lingered in his heart. For now, all he could do was hope and endure, piecing together the shattered fragments of himself.

After a year of tears and disappointments, Kaivan stepped into a new class, his heart weighed down. The reshuffling of students meant a new beginning for some, but for him, it was the end of familiarity. Rina, Dandi, Tania… the friends who once anchored his world were gone. Now, his mornings began with weary footsteps toward school, as though the weight of the world pressed down on his shoulders.

The school hallways, usually alive with laughter and chatter, felt like a foreign realm to Kaivan. Every step carried an ache he couldn’t put into words. To him, those voices were nothing more than echoes of a past he could never touch again. He walked with his head slightly lowered, every footfall a reminder of how far he had drifted from the happiness he once knew.

“Why do I even have to be here?”