Samuel was thirteen when his world flipped upside down. One regular day, his class got shuffled, and suddenly he was sitting in a strange room with faces he didn’t know. That’s when he saw her. She didn’t speak much, but there was something about her—quiet, steady, just there. Before long, walking home together turned into the highlight of his day. He found himself paying more attention to her than to his own life, like he was studying some secret blueprint.

Months passed, and Samuel’s thoughts only got messier. In his head, he had this whole council—pieces of himself arguing back and forth. Fear, logic, hope, impulse; he’d always counted on them to help sort out the world, even if they made a lot of noise. When she started to drift away and their talks faded, those voices grew louder. They picked apart every word, warning him not to get lost in wishful thinking.

A year later, Samuel barely recognized himself. What started as admiration had turned heavy, almost painful. He called himself the “Foolish Architect”—a kid building whole lives in his mind, none of them real. That’s when Dusk showed up. Dusk wasn’t a person, more like a shadow—an icy, cutting version of his own doubts. Suddenly his inner council felt unfamiliar, even threatening. Samuel wondered if he’d created the storm he was now caught in.

School events, loneliness, awkward run-ins—everything seemed to push him further into his own head. By prom night, things broke. He found himself lost in a strange dream, wandering through a crumbling temple he’d built himself, finally seeing the truths he’d dodged for so long.

Letting go wasn’t dramatic. He just admitted to himself how he felt and accepted it wasn’t going to be returned. The final talk with her closed the chapter, but didn’t feel like a win—more like letting out a long breath after holding it in for too long.

When he walked into high school orientation, something had changed. He wasn’t chasing after someone else anymore. For once, he felt like he could build something real. Not as the Foolish Architect, but as himself—ready to start, finally, on his own future.

Morning came like any other — plain, unremarkable, harmless on the surface.


Just Samuel… slipping deeper into his infatuation as if it were the only light he had left.


He didn't know yet that light can burn.


Samuel arrived at school feeling weightless, as if joy were guaranteed simply by existing near her.


He saw the girl — and the smile on his face sharpened into something hopeful, something so fragile it could shatter with a breath.


He approached her, asked for a fist bump, and she gave it kindly.


That small gesture fed the fire inside him.


Too much, far too much, but he couldn't see that then.


So he went back — reaching for something he thought was closeness.


And just like that, something inside him tilted.


He withdrew, silent, swallowed by the echo of her tone.


But the universe rarely grants mercy to fools.


Later, in the gym, Samuel waved at her again — desperate for that first spark to return.


She sat far away from him, and Samuel felt the world pull apart at its seams.


The rest of the day moved like rainwater down a window — slow, heavy, impossible to control.


The joy from the morning was gone, replaced with something colder.


He went home quickly, not daring to walk beside her this time.


His hands shook with hope and dread as he searched for her Instagram profile — her face, her posts, anything.


There was only one explanation, and it struck harder than any blow he'd ever known.


He checked using his mother's phone — and there she was.


That was the moment the axis of his heart shifted.


Samuel felt something deep inside press down on him — heavy, suffocating.


He struggled to breathe under the weight of confusion and humiliation and loss he couldn't name.


His fists tightened as if he could hold himself together by force alone.


Barely audible, yet impossible to ignore.


Or something darker — something within him starting to move.


The birth of a shadow that would follow him far longer than he imagined.


The Architect of his mind — the builder of illusions — made his first true mistake here.


Chapter 4 - chapter 4 act 1