Zayan had potential — something real, something rare. It was something his parents never saw in him, no matter how hard he tried. They were blind to his future, blind to the person he could become. But that potential was still there, buried beneath exhaustion, pain, and silence.
The professor saw it.
Every day, as he sat in the café, he watched Zayan quietly. He noticed the way Zayan worked without complaint, the way he carried himself like someone who had already lost everything. He noticed the sadness in his eyes — a sadness too deep for someone so young. The professor wanted to talk to him properly, to understand him, but time was always against him.
So instead, he asked the café owner.
The boss told him everything.
He told him where Zayan lived, or rather, where he didn't live anymore. He told him about Zayan's past, his loneliness, and the weight he carried every single day. He told him about the potential Zayan had — the kind that went to waste because no one had ever guided him.
The professor listened in silence.
One day, he finally decided to act.
That day, the professor called Zayan over to take his order. Zayan walked toward him, unaware that his life was slowly shifting. The professor didn't place an order immediately. Instead, he asked Zayan to sit down.
Zayan hesitated, confused, but obeyed.
From behind the counter, Zayan's boss watched quietly. He could hear the professor talking to Zayan, his voice calm and gentle, unlike the harsh tones Zayan was used to. The professor introduced himself and explained that he worked as a professor at the university near the café.
Then he asked the question that no one had asked Zayan before.
Why don't you study?
Why are you working at such a young age?
The question hit deeper than it sounded.
Zayan stood there for a moment, unsure of how to answer. His past pressed heavily against his chest — his parents, his grandmother, Lia, Aryan, everything he had lost. He didn't answer quickly, because the truth was painful.
And when he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of everything he had survived.