The silence in the room felt suffocating.

  I y still on the unfamiliar bed of a penthouse that didn’t belong to me. The air conditioning chilled the room to a crisp, but it did nothing to calm the restless thoughts circling in my mind.

  Kevin’s voice echoed, looping endlessly in my head—

  “If you were a wolf thrown into a pride of lions, how would you survive?”

  I tried not to think about it.

  But the more I tried to forget, the sharper it became.

  Laughter rang through the darkness.

  I stood in the middle of the schoolyard.

  The grass beneath my feet was damp from the rain. My shirt clung to my skin, dripping wet—from the bucket of water that had been dumped on me.

  Laughter erupted around me.

  “You’re not like us!”

  “No one wants to py with you!”

  I remembered this moment—my first day at a new school.

  I was different.

  Not because of wealth. Not because of attitude.

  Just… different.

  At that age, children didn’t truly understand prejudice.

  But they absorbed it so effortlessly.

  And I was the one it clung to.

  “If you don’t say anything, that means you’re weak!”

  A shove from behind.

  I staggered forward.

  More ughter.

  I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.

  I wasn’t scared.

  I just knew—no matter what I did, no one was coming to help.

  I gasped awake.

  The city lights filtered through the curtains, painting faint patterns on the ceiling.

  My pulse pounded in my ears, my chest rising and falling too fast.

  It took a long moment before my breathing evened out.

  I sat up slowly, gripping the bnket like it was something solid to hold onto.

  Why?

  Why was I dreaming about that?

  I hadn’t thought about it in years.

  And why was Kevin’s voice woven into it?

  Choose the right lion to stand beside.

  I swallowed.

  Did I ever have that choice?

  Knock, knock.

  I flinched.

  My head snapped toward the door.

  Another knock.

  Steady. Unhurried. Not too loud, not too soft.

  "...?"

  I forced in a breath, pushing the residual unease aside.

  Sliding my feet to the floor, I made my way toward the door—

  But before I could even reach it, the door opened.

  And there he was.

  Kevin.

  He leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

  He wasn’t in a hurry.

  But I knew.

  Kevin never left room for refusals.

  “Get dressed.”

  His voice was calm. Certain.

  Not a request—

  A command.

  I frowned. “What? Why?”

  Kevin didn’t answer.

  He just shrugged, then said in that infuriatingly smooth voice—

  “Memory training.”

  The low hum of a coffee grinder filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soft murmur of casual conversations.

  The scent of freshly brewed espresso lingered, rich and warm, wrapping around us like an invisible cocoon.

  It was… normal.

  A normal café.

  A normal moment.

  A normal world.

  And yet—

  Kevin sat across from me, looking like he belonged here.

  He wore a dark button-up, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the sharp cut of his forearms. He held his coffee cup with effortless ease, fingers tapping lightly against the ceramic.

  He looks too at ease… or have I just gotten more used to seeing him hold a gun than a coffee cup?

  Rexed.

  Unbothered.

  As if he hadn’t put a bullet in someone’s head just nights ago.

  As if he weren’t the reason I was trapped in this gilded cage.

  As if he were just another person, taking a break in the middle of his day.

  For a moment—just a moment—I almost forgot.

  I almost believed he was one of them.

  I didn’t even realize I was staring until—

  "You’ve been looking at me for a while now."

  His voice cut through my thoughts like a bde.

  I snapped out of it, blinking rapidly. “What?”

  Kevin lifted a brow, gaze amused.

  "What?" he echoed smoothly. "Trying to burn my face into memory?"

  Oh my god.

  I shook my head quickly. “No.”

  His smirk deepened. "No?"

  He leaned forward slightly, resting one arm on the table, and his presence suddenly felt heavier—closer.

  "You were staring, Psyche." He tilted his head. "Looked like you were about to sketch my portrait and send it to a gallery."

  I let out an exasperated breath. “Please. You wish.”

  Kevin chuckled, slow and deep, before taking a sip of his coffee. “I do look good in bck and white.”

  I hate him.

  I exhaled sharply, gripping my cup a little tighter. “I just…”

  Might as well ask.

  "I just never pictured you in a pce like this."

  He lifted his cup again, sipping leisurely. “A pce like this?”

  "A normal café. Where normal people sit around talking about pointless things, reading books, pnning their future…"

  I trailed off before adding, almost as an afterthought—

  "If you weren’t… y’know. This." I gestured vaguely at him. "What do you think you’d be?"

  It was a casual question. Just small talk.

  But then—

  Kevin actually paused.

  Like he was actually considering it.

  Then—

  "A cop, probably."

  I choked on my coffee.

  "What?!"

  Kevin shrugged, looking utterly unbothered. “What?”

  I stared at him. “You—a cop?!”

  He tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting.

  "Why not?" he said smoothly. “I’d still be doing the same thing. Just… in a different uniform.”

  I stared.

  He’s not joking.

  He wasn’t joking.

  That realization made my stomach drop.

  "Oh my god." I shook my head, exhaling sharply. “I take back every single thought I ever had about you maybe being a decent person.”

  Kevin ughed.

  It wasn’t forced, wasn’t mocking. It was genuine.

  And somehow, that made it worse.

  He leaned back in his seat, watching me over the rim of his cup.

  "That bad, huh?"

  I scowled. “Yes, that bad.”

  I don’t know why, but I suddenly blurted out—

  "Maybe… I used to think like you, too."

  Kevin’s gaze flickered, shifting slightly. “Hmm?”

  He wasn’t surprised. He was just waiting for me to expin.

  I stirred my coffee slowly.

  "I used to think… if I just changed a few things about myself, maybe I’d fit in."

  Kevin didn’t interrupt, didn’t make any remarks.

  He just listened.

  "When I was a kid, I tried everything. I spoke like them, acted like them… tried to be them. But no matter what I did, they still pushed me out."

  I swallowed, my fingers tightening around my cup.

  "I was an outsider, Kevin. Just because I was born different."

  I hadn’t pnned to say this. But once I started, it was like something inside me was unraveling.

  Kevin was quiet for a long moment.

  Then—

  "You had the privilege to be an outsider."

  I froze.

  His tone wasn’t mocking. Wasn’t condescending. Just… factual.

  I frowned. “What does that mean?”

  Kevin gnced down at his cup, thumb tracing the rim absentmindedly.

  "Some people never get to stand outside the system."

  There was something strange about the way he said it.

  Something distant.

  And I knew.

  He wasn’t talking about me.

  Kevin gnced at his watch, setting his cup down.

  "That night—where were you before you went home?"

  I blinked at the sudden shift. “Uh… a convenience store near my university.”

  He nodded once before standing up.

  "Then let’s go."

  I hesitated. “Go where?”

  Kevin looked at me, expression unreadable.

  "Back to where it started."

  And that’s when I realized—

  I wasn’t here just for a cup of coffee.