Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 5

Tim nodded like that was supposed to help. “Yeah, you’re fun, bro. You light up a room. You got that thing.”

That thing.

I wanted to ask what the hell “that thing” was. Being the clown? The show pony? The guy who makes everything louder so no one notices he’s drowning?

But I just downed the rest of my drink instead. Let the burn crawl down my throat and settle in my chest where the envy already lived.

I could still hear those words from earlier in my father’s voice, grow some actual balls, echoing louder than the music in the bar.

And Matt, smiling, holding that trophy like it weighed nothing.

And me, sitting in the dark, chasing silence at the bottom of a glass.

A few more bottles.
A few more cheers to drown the noise within.

Every clink of glass felt like a lie.
To friendship. To freedom. To nothing that ever lasted.

The burn didn’t sting anymore. It had settled, comfortable in my veins like it belonged there, like it was home. I couldn’t even feel the edges of my own thoughts, just this dull hum behind my forehead and the heaviness of my limbs like I’d been made of wet cement.

Then she showed up.

Like an apparition.

There was something almost funny about it, Olive, in her pajamas, standing in the doorway of that bar like she’d wandered out of a sleepover and into hell. Baggy sweatshirt. Messy bun. Eyes too tired for her age. Still somehow managing to look like she didn’t belong to this world, but to some softer one I barely remembered.

I blinked at her, but the buzz made her look like she was glowing.

She folded her arms. “Let’s go.”

I scoffed. “Didn’t know you were working night shifts now.”

She didn’t flinch. Just sighed. “Your dad called me. Said you weren’t answering. Asked me to pick you up.”

Of course he did.

Olive was his favorite. His little pet. The girl-next-door who could do no wrong. He probably wished I was more like her. Maybe he got the wrong kid.

I rolled my eyes, finishing whatever was left in my glass. “Perfect timing, Miss Gray Family Gold Star.”

“You’re drunk,” she said flatly.

“You think?”

"Really Drew?"

"I don't like you calling me Drew. We're not kids anymore."

Still, I followed her. Out of the bar, into the quiet chill of the night. The wind sobered me just enough to feel how empty I was.

She didn’t speak much as she drove. Just turned the radio low and let the silence wrap around us.

Then I heard it.

“So you laugh like a child
And I'll sing like no one cares
No one to be, no one to tell
I could see this view a hundred times
Pale blue sky reflected in your eyes
So give me a reason
And don't say no, no…”

Taylor Swift.
Run, featuring Ed Sheeran.

I stared out the window, the lyrics slipping between the cracks in me I didn’t even know were there. That song always felt like a promise no one kept. Like something fragile you whisper in the dark, only to regret in the morning.

I didn’t say a word the whole drive.

And Olive didn’t ask me to.

She pulled up to the house and waited until I got out, only rolling down her window to say, “Get inside safe.”

I wanted to thank her. Or say sorry. Or maybe ask her to stay.
But I just nodded.
That was all I could manage.

I don’t remember falling asleep.
Only the sound of Olive’s car driving away.
The lights bleeding into the room from the hallway.
The ache behind my eyes.

And then...

I was somewhere else.

The world was blue. Not sky blue, not ocean blue, but something softer. Almost lavender. A foggy kind of quiet that hummed beneath my skin, like the air itself was trying to sing to me. The ground shimmered, almost like it had been dipped in stars, and every breath I took tasted like rain, clean, cold, and familiar.

I was barefoot. The ground beneath my feet was warm and soft, like sand just kissed by sunlight. And there was wind, but it wasn’t loud. It whispered against my neck like it knew me. Like it missed me.

And then she was there.

That girl again.

I never see her face completely. Just the edges. The tilt of her head. The way her hair moved like it belonged to the wind. She was standing ahead of me, in the middle of a field that didn’t look real. It stretched forever, golden and glowing, the grass so tall it swayed like water. There was no sky, just this endless lavender glow above us.

She turned to me...

...smiling.

My chest clenched.

She was holding out her hand.

I didn’t think. I walked forward. Reached for her.

Our fingers brushed.

And it was like everything inside me stilled. Like all the noise, the failure, the bitterness, the anger at my dad, at myself, just… disappeared.

She took my hand.

I could feel her skin, warm and soft. Real.

She pulled me forward until we were face to face. Her eyes met mine.

And this time, I saw them.

Big, brown, searching, like they were trying to memorize me.

And when she smiled, it hit me in the gut. Not because it was perfect, but because it felt like home. Like I’d seen that smile a hundred times before in another life. Or maybe one I hadn’t lived yet.

She leaned in and whispered something. I couldn’t understand the words. They were muffled, like the dream didn’t want me to hear them yet.

But whatever she said, it made my knees weak. I laughed.

She laughed too.

And we just stood there, holding hands in the quiet. No rush. No fear. Like nothing could touch us here.

Then the wind shifted.

Suddenly, she started to fade.

I tried to hold on.

Tried to pull her closer.

But her fingers slipped from mine like smoke.

Her smile wavered. Her lips moved again.

A whisper, barely there.

“I’m sorry…”

And I woke up, bolt upright, gasping.

The room was cold. My throat was dry. My chest was tight.

I looked at my hands. They were shaking.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered.

Again. And again.

I didn’t know why.
Didn’t know who I was saying it to.
To the girl in my dream?
To myself?

To my dad?

Maybe to the boy I used to be. The one who still believed he could be someone worth loving.