The first message

26 3 2
                                        

Hi, my name is Feslin come and follow me. It was an ordinary day, just like any other. I woke up, stretched, and grabbed my phone, like I always do, to check my notifications. As usual, there were messages on that social media app. Always from people in different parts of the world. At first, it felt exciting, but now I was starting to feel drained by the routine. The messages were almost always the same: "Hi, how are you? Where are you from?" I had gotten so used to those empty responses that I was beginning to lose interest completely.

Until one day, something changed.

Amid the sea of repetitive messages, I came across a profile that truly caught my eye. A guy with clear eyes, a beautiful skin, and pink lips that stood out on his face. But it wasn't his physical appearance that drew me in. No, it was that smile. A smile that seemed to say, "Come on, let's talk," in such an intriguing way that I couldn't help but send him a simple "Hi."

His reply came quickly, warm and friendly. We started chatting casually, but what began as a simple conversation soon turned into something different. With him, even the usual "How are you?" didn't feel empty. His responses were fresh, fun, and made me feel like I had known him for a while, as if this conversation wasn't our first. His sense of humor made me laugh for real, something I hadn't experienced with anyone else on the app. There was something in the way he spoke that made me feel close to him, as though we were old friends.

What I didn't know yet was that this casual chat would mark the start of something unexpected. Something in the air told me that, even though our chat started just like all the others, this time would be different. What would happen if I really got to know him beyond the screen?

Efes: "Would you like to keep chatting?"

And a small spark of excitement ran through me. Something told me this message wasn't like the others.

Unexpected messageМесто, где живут истории. Откройте их для себя