That night, I trudged back to the empty house, all by myself.

Curled up on the sofa, I scrolled through my phone, replaying those sweet photos of us.

Again and again.

I stared until my eyes burned, but Benjamin never showed.

I felt like a fish on ice, surrounded by a world of frost and nothing else.

Despair. It was an endless, suffocating blanket.

I'd always thought having a home would fix this feeling.

Guess I was wrong.

After all these years, I still didn't have a real family.

I was still that kid nobody wanted.

The tears just wouldn't stop.

I cried until I was completely spent, then finally crashed.

I dreamed of my seventeenth birthday.

That's when I first met Benjamin.

He'd come back to our school as a super successful alum to give a talk.

He was on stage, in the auditorium, his voice booming with passion about the future and dreams.

Me? I was stuck in the mud, going nowhere.

My parents split, and neither wanted me. I was just tossed around.

Benjamin was like this blinding light, showing me life could be beautiful, pulling me, a creature of the dark, towards him.

Then he asked, "Any students want to share their future dreams with us?"

Without thinking, I shot my hand up, reaching for the sky.

That was my first move towards him.

Maybe the red sweater Grandma knitted was my lucky charm that day.

He saw me.

He beckoned me over.

Speaking in front of everyone was terrifying, but I held the mic like it was gold.

"I... I want to be an animation concept artist," I stammered.

His eyes lit up. "Awesome! I'd love to welcome the future you to apply at my company."

Benjamin's company was HUGE in the gaming world.

I remember swallowing my fear and saying, super carefully,

"I will. Senior, let's meet again in six years."

Six years later, I graduated.

"I'll be waiting!"

He smiled back, his eyes full of promise.

That simple promise, just him playing a part, was enough to make seventeen-year-old me fall head over heels.

Those three words fueled six years of grinding.

I drew day and night, pouring my whole soul into my art.

This silent, all-consuming crush? I gave it everything.

Finally, I got into a top art school and landed a job at Benjamin's company.

First day, we shared an elevator. He was in a sharp black suit.

My heart was doing cartwheels. I stepped forward, ready to spill.

I wanted to blurt out, "Senior, remember me? You came to our school that year..."

A million things were on the tip of my tongue, but not a single word came out.

His gaze was ice-cold, totally dismissive.

That's when it hit me. He'd completely forgotten me.

I was just a blip, a nobody, and I'd been delusional enough to think I meant something more.

In that second, the whole world turned to ash.

I forced a smile. "Sorry, I must have mistaken you for someone else..."

I shoved that feeling of being special, deep down, and kept my head down at work.

It wasn't until a year later, after I'd proven myself, that I channeled all my feelings into drawings. I created a comic.

It started with that school speech and ended with me standing tall, meeting his gaze as an equal.

Six whole years.

I poured every ounce of my being into that confession.

He just stared, his eyes scanning my face, my features, searching and searching.