It was the kind of party people would talk about for weeks. The hotel ballroom on the twelfth floor was buzzing—music blasting, lights flickering, classmates laughing like the world outside didn't exist. After all, it was their Class 12 farewell, and someone's rich cousin had rented out the whole place for the night. Drinks were flowing (non-alcoholic, supposedly), snacks were disappearing fast, and someone had already spilled soda all over the dance floor.
Edward Virell stood off to the side, holding a fizzy drink he hadn't even sipped yet. The bass thudded in his chest, but he felt strangely disconnected. Like he was watching a movie with the volume turned up too loud.
Lucas Renshire, his best friend, was somewhere in the crowd being his usual chaotic self, probably trying to start a dance battle with the DJ. Typical.
Edward wasn't really feeling it. The lights, the noise, the heat from too many bodies in one room—it was all starting to mess with his head. He ran a hand through his dark hair and stepped toward Lucas, who was halfway through stuffing a cookie in his mouth.
"Gonna head up for a bit," Edward said, raising his voice over the music. "Need air."
Lucas gave him a thumbs-up and pointed to his drink like 'don't forget this'. Edward chuckled, left the cup behind, and slipped out of the party hall.
The hallway was quiet. Too quiet. The elevator, thankfully, was empty when it opened. He stepped in, leaned back, and stared at his reflection in the shiny doors. Black shirt, sleeves rolled, hair a little messy—he looked like every other guy at the party, but he didn't feel like them.
Ding.
Top floor.
He walked through the narrow corridor, found the metal rooftop door, and pushed it open.
And just like that, the noise disappeared.
The air outside was sharp and cool. The rooftop had a perfect view of the New York skyline—towering buildings, distant car horns, and city lights that stretched forever. Edward walked toward the edge, his hands tucked into his pockets, breathing in the silence.
Then—boom.
The sky exploded with color. Fireworks.
Right. He had almost forgotten. The city was lighting up the night for a festival downtown. That was partly why he wanted to come up here—to see it from above. Just him and the stars.
But then, the flash of red and gold lit up something else.
Someone else.
A girl.
She stood at the far corner of the rooftop, her silhouette briefly outlined by the fireworks. Medium-length black hair fluttered around her face, her coat catching in the wind. She stood perfectly still, toes at the edge. Her shoes were placed neatly behind her, like she had taken them off with care.
Edward froze.
The wind howled gently, and another firework burst above them. Blue this time. It lit up her figure again—just enough to see the outline of her shoulders, but not her expression.
Is she... going to jump?
His stomach dropped.
He took a step forward, his voice caught in his throat. Then another firework lit the sky.
"Hey!" he called out, not too loud, but firm. "Are you okay?"
She didn't move. Didn't even flinch
For a split second, Edward thought maybe he had imagined it. The fireworks flickered above, the wind tugging at his clothes—and then he saw it. The girl's foot moved. Just barely. A centimeter forward.
That was enough.
"Shit—"
He ran.
No second thoughts. No hesitation. His body launched forward, crossing the rooftop in seconds. And just as the girl shifted her weight toward the edge, Edward reached out and pulled her back.
They collapsed onto the rooftop floor, hard. She landed against his chest with a muffled gasp, and for a long, breathless moment, neither of them moved.
Their chests rose and fell rapidly, lungs burning from the cold air and adrenaline. Her hair spilled across her face, and her coat was twisted awkwardly around her. She wasn't crying. She wasn't screaming. Just breathing.
Edward stared at her, heart pounding. "What the hell were you doing?"
She said nothing.
He sat up, not letting go. "Why were you trying to jump? Are you hurt? Do you need help?"
Still, silence.
Then she shifted, pulling herself up without a word.
"Wait, what?" Edward stood up, confused. "You're just leaving?"
She turned away.
Edward reached out, grabbing her wrist, not tightly but enough to stop her. "You can't just act like that didn't happen. You were about to— You almost—"
She spun around.
Slap.
Her hand hit his, knocking it away.
"Let go," she snapped. Her voice was sharp, cold, and completely unshaken. "It's none of your damn business."
He stared at her, stunned.
She didn't wait for a reply. With one last, unreadable glance, she turned and walked toward the stairwell. Her bare feet made no sound as they touched the concrete, coat swaying in the breeze. In seconds, she was gone—like she'd never been there at all.
The sky was quiet again. No more fireworks. Just stars—and Edward.
Back in the ballroom, everything was just as chaotic as before. Music blaring. Lights flashing. Teenagers laughing and dancing like nothing outside this room existed.
Edward walked in like a ghost, shoulders tense, thoughts still spinning. He barely got five steps in before Lucas found him.
"Dude!" Lucas called, pushing through the crowd. "Where the hell were you? You look like you saw a ghost. You good?"
Edward blinked, snapping out of it. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said quickly, forcing a small smile. "Just needed some air."
Lucas eyed him, not entirely convinced. "You sure?"
"Yeah, man. All good."
Lucas shrugged, then handed him a drink. "Well, come on. You're not getting out of this party that easy."
Edward chuckled and followed him back to the crowd. They danced, talked, even took a couple of dumb selfies. On the surface, he looked normal—happy, even. He laughed when someone spilled juice on the DJ table and cheered when Lucas tried breakdancing and nearly twisted his ankle.
But behind that smile, Edward was somewhere else.
His mind kept drifting back to that rooftop. To the girl with the empty eyes. The weight of her silence. The way she walked away like none of it mattered.
He didn't even know her name.
But he knew one thing—this night wasn't going to leave him anytime soon.
The party stretched on until morning.
And Edward never stopped thinking about her.