Alina sighed as she lay on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her thoughts wandered in circles..quiet, heavy, and restless.
"When will I get a stable job?"
"When will I finally have enough money?"
"Where... when... how...?"
That’s all her overthinking brain could summon.
After graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education, she had imagined a simple, peaceful life. A steady job, her own apartment, warm meals at the end of the day. But instead, it had been three long months of rejection emails, unanswered applications, and empty interviews.
To keep up with rent, she worked wherever she could...sometimes as a waitress, other times scrubbing floors in cafes that didn’t even remember her name.
Lying there, tired and half-heartedly clutching her old graduation certificate, she whispered to herself,
"I gave half my life to studying. Was it all for nothing? Was dreaming of something better... too much to ask?"
She closed her eyes, not to sleep, but to escape. Just for a moment.
However, the stress in her chest and the constant migraine behind her eyes made it hard to rest. Even her thoughts felt tired.
To save money, she kept the lights off unless truly needed. She counted every minute the fan ran, every drop of water used, every bulb switched on. Even small comforts felt like luxuries now.
Alina Hart was 24 years old.
She had always loved children, the way they smiled, the way they believed in magic, the way they held onto your hand like it was the safest place in the world.
That love was the reason she chose her path.
She didn’t want to be rich.
She didn’t want a big house.
She just wanted to spend her life with little ones, to guide them, teach them, and maybe even learn something back from their innocence.
But now, all of that felt like a faraway dream.
She pressed a hand to her forehead, sighing softly as the dim light from outside filtered through her window.
"If only someone out there needed a teacher like me... even a tiny chance would be enough."
With a sigh, Alina sat up from her bed, setting her degree aside like it weighed too much. She rubbed her forehead, pressing her fingers to her temples.
"Goodness... I need a real break."
The words slipped out quietly, as if even her voice was tired.
She rose slowly, her body aching from more than just fatigue—it was the heaviness of overthinking, of trying too hard and getting nowhere.
Her bare feet padded across the cold floor as she walked into the bathroom. She turned on the tap, letting the water run for a second before splashing her face. The coolness helped, but only a little.
As she lifted her head to the mirror, she stared at the reflection that greeted her.
Deep hazel eyes, usually warm, now looked dull with exhaustion. Her long chestnut-brown hair hung loose around her shoulders, strands sticking to her damp cheeks. Her skin was naturally fair, but pale today...like the color had been drained away by stress.
Her lips, once soft and pink, were now bitten red at the corners, a habit she couldn’t stop when anxiety clawed at her thoughts.
She leaned in closer, narrowing her eyes at her reflection.
"There’s nothing special in this face," she thought.
Not when her eyes were always tired.
Not when her smile rarely reached her eyes. .com
Not when her thoughts kept whispering she wasn’t enough.
And yet... even in that moment, under the flickering bathroom light, there was something quietly beautiful about her. Something she didn’t see but the world would, one day.
She quickly fixed her appearance..pulled her hair into a neat low ponytail, dabbed some lip balm over her cracked lips, and changed into her café uniform. It wasn’t much, but it was clean and presentable. That’s all she could afford to be.
She had an afternoon shift at a small café just around the corner. The job didn’t pay much, but it helped her stay afloat. Barely.
As she stepped inside, the familiar scent of roasted coffee and sweet pastries greeted her but so did a voice she hoped she wouldn’t hear today.
"Well, well... here comes the nerd,"
The words were coated in sugar and mockery, spoken by a woman with perfect eyeliner and a too-sweet smile. Celeste, the café’s most popular waitress.
She looked Alina up and down slowly, smirking like it was her job.
Her glossy nails tapped against her tray as if waiting for Alina to break.
Alina’s jaw clenched. Her hands curled into soft fists by her sides. But she said nothing.
Because Celeste wasn’t just any co-worker.
She was the girlfriend of the café owner’s only son.
And everyone knew..if Alina dared talk back, she’d be jobless before the coffee machine even finished steaming.
So, she swallowed the sting.
Ignored the laughter Celeste shared with the other waitresses.
And quietly slipped past her, tying on her apron and heading toward the counter.
"Focus on the job, not the noise," she told herself.
She wasn’t here to win popularity.
She was here to survive.
"Hey, baby," Riccardo’s voice echoed through the café as he walked in with the confidence of someone who thought he owned the world..because one day, he probably would. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Celeste’s glossy lips. .com
"Mmm, hey," Celeste replied, smirking as her eyes slid sideways—right toward Alina.
Alina stood quietly behind the counter, focused on preparing a caramel latte for a customer. Her hands worked swiftly, pouring steamed milk with practiced care, forming soft swirls in the foam like she always did when trying to block out background noise.
But she could feel their eyes on her.
"Hey you," Riccardo suddenly said, voice louder now, directed at her.
Alina didn’t look up. She didn’t need to. .com
She already felt the changes in the air...the way Celeste’s gaze sharpened.
"You’re kinda beautiful, y’know that?" Riccardo added, licking his lips slowly.
Alina’s grip on the cup tightened slightly, but she said nothing. Silence was her shield.
She handed the coffee to the waiting customer with a polite smile, pretending she didn’t hear anything. Pretending it didn’t sting.
Behind her, Celeste’s smile faltered for the briefest second before she forced it back.
She leaned close to Riccardo, her lips brushing his ear, whispering something Alina couldn’t hear.
Whatever it was, it made Riccardo chuckle darkly, his eyes still on Alina.
He licked his lips again, slower this time, as if daring her to react.