Chapter 1: Second Chances and Old Scars

When the three famously aloof senior girls—admired by everyone at school—announced to the world that they’d chosen me as their only little brother, I blew up my future and ran, terrified I wouldn’t get away in time. All because I’d been given a second chance.

Back then, their announcement was the talk of the halls—like someone dropped a celebrity scandal right in the middle of lunch period. People stared at me with wide eyes, some stopping me in the cafeteria, desperate to figure out what made me special enough to break through their legendary ice. Trays clattered and the smell of tater tots mixed with perfume as everyone turned to stare. But all I felt was dread twisting in my gut. Even now, that memory is razor-sharp, as if the echoes of my sneakers pounding down the hallway are still chasing me, daring me to stop and look back.

In my previous life, after being welcomed into their tight circle, I treated the three senior girls like family. When someone challenged Natalie, the oldest, I stood up in front of her and said, “You want to mess with her? You gotta go through me.” When Aubrey, the second oldest, spiraled into a breakdown, I fought my way into her nightmare—risking everything, over and over, to get the help she needed. Lillian, the youngest, was frail since childhood; it was me who stayed up late, bringing her soup and running errands, day and night. Yet, they were always distant. Even though they promised to have my back, they brought in a new kid and gave him everything I’d ever wanted.

I can still see those moments as if they were playing on an endless reel. The way I’d rush to Natalie’s defense, jaw set and fists clenched, or the nights I’d sit in the dark outside Aubrey’s room, listening for any sound that meant she might need me. With Lillian, every time she shivered under her blanket, I was there with her favorite tomato soup and a half-hearted joke. It never mattered. Their words sounded nice, but their eyes slid past me. Then came Lucas—a whirlwind in Converse and a grin—and just like that, I was invisible.

I was a shadow in the doorway, watching the world move on without me. I kept waiting for someone—anyone—to ask if I was okay. Nobody did.

Later, when disaster struck and our lives hung by a thread, they abandoned me to protect Lucas—afraid he might get hurt. In the end, I lost all hope. I blew up my chances, and in the chaos, carved out a way for them to escape. I only wished to break this toxic bond and never see them again in the next life.

That last night is seared into me—sirens wailing in the distance, rain splattering the windows, my hands shaking as I dialed 911, knowing this was the move that’d save them, but wreck my life for good. My fingers still remember the sting of the door slamming shut behind me, their voices muffled and already receding. I told myself, if there’s a next life, let it be far, far from all this.

But somehow, after being given another shot, the three who once ignored me now chased after me in tears, begging: “Little brother, we were blind—you’re the only one who matters!” But this time, I don’t dare to believe them anymore.

It’s weird how the tables turn. Suddenly, their cool confidence had cracked, and their voices—once sharp as winter wind—trembled, their words chasing me down the street. But I’m done being anyone’s afterthought, done putting myself on the line for people who’ll never see me. Not again. Never again.