The walls of her apartment were thin,
but not as thin as the line between her dreams and this stupid life.
"Is he real? Or is it just my damn imagination?"
She asked it again—out loud this time.
Like the walls might answer.
But they just echoed her thoughts back,
cold and hollow.
She's tired.
Tired of waking up every morning
with the taste of a fairytale still on her lips
only to find burnt toast and cold coffee waiting.
It was 7:00 a.m.
Class started at 8:45 a.m.
She dragged herself to the tiny kitchen corner—still wearing her oversized hoodie,
hair messy like the chaos in her head.
She put a slice of bread in the toaster.
Let it burn.
Didn't even care.
The smell filled the room like failure.
Even her breakfast reminded her, she was falling apart.
"You're losing it, Anna."
she whispered to herself in the mirror.
Her reflection didn't argue.
Eyes tired.
Lips dry.
Soul? Somewhere between a dream and a meltdown.
She forced herself to eat half the toast.
Tasted like ashes.
She locked her apartment door and stepped into the crisp morning air.
It smelled like wet pavement and sleepy regrets.
Her phone buzzed.
Raily:"Hey, I'm waiting at the usual spot 💕"
She was always there—every morning,
like a little light that hadn't been stolen from her yet.
Raily,
the only person in this entire country
who knew how to make her broken pieces feel a little less sharp.
They met under a tree on campus a year ago.
Raily offered her (Anna) a granola bar.
Anna offered her (Raily) silence.
She didn't mind.
And that's how they became best friends.
When Anna reached the corner, Raily was already there,
standing with her neatly tied ponytail and warm smile.
"Morning, sleepyhead," she said, nudging Anna gently.
Anna smiled back, a weak one.
The kind of smile that says, I'm alive, but just barely.
"Burnt my toast again," she mumbled.
Raily laughed—soft, like wind chimes.
"At this point, Anna, I think your toaster's trying to kill you."
They walked together through the quiet streets,
their footsteps matching like a rhythm they didn't plan.
Raily's voice was calm, filling the silence with stories about her cat, her weekend plans, and a professor who wore mismatched socks.
But Anna wasn't really there.
She was still stuck in that moment—his voice, his hands,
the way he looked at her like she was made of stars.
Raily noticed.
"You're dreaming again, aren't you?" she asked, eyes squinting like she could read Anna like a page.
She didn't answer.
Because how could Anna tell her
that she was falling in love with someone
who only existed when she closed her eyes?
"Yes, Raily, I had that wild dream again," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Raily tilted her head, gave her that you're hopeless but I love you anyway smile.
"I told you," she said, linking her arm with mine. "You need a boyfriend—urgently. The dreams? Just your imagination playing romantic pranks."
Anna shook her head slowly.
Maybe she was right.
Maybe this was just some lonely-girl glitch in her brain.
But why… why did it all feel so real?
"No, Raily… you don't get it," she said softly. "It's not just a dream. I can feel him. Like he's already a part of me. Like I've known him forever."
Raily sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Anna. I love your imagination, I do. But maybe it's just... all those romance books you read before bed. Or your brain's way of coping, you know? Being far from home, alone."
Anna didn't reply.
She was right again.
And still, she wasn't.
They reached the café near campus.
Raily ordered her usual—iced vanilla latte.
Anna just stood there, staring at the barista.
He had his eyes.
Not the exact same, but the same shape. The same quiet sadness.
Anna blinked hard.
No. Not again.
"Anna?" Raily asked, waving a hand in front of her face.
"Y-Yeah. I'm good," Anna lied.
The café's hum faded into a soft blur as his voice pulled me back.
"Hey, Anna. What're you looking at?"
It was Jace—Raily's friend. He worked here part-time, always with his sleeves rolled up and a charming grin stitched into his tanned face.
She blinked.
"Oh, I was… watching how you make latte," she said, her voice more fragile than she wanted it to be.
He raised an eyebrow, not buying it.
Raily looked at her, then at him.
Something flickered between their glances—concern, maybe?
"Are you sick?" he asked, wiping his hands with a cloth. "I can make you a hot chocolate. Extra KitKat on top. My treat."
His wide smile made something flutter in her chest.
No, not like him. But still… warm. Kind. Real.
"Thanks, Jace," Anna whispered.
As he turned to make the drink, she watched him—his steady hands, the casual way he moved, the laugh lines around his eyes.
But it wasn't him.
Not the man from her dreams.
That man whispered poetry into the night and kissed her like he'd searched the stars to find her.
And Jace?
He was right here, handing me a steaming cup topped with melting chocolate.
"Here," he said. "Don't think too much, Anna. You've got that dreamy face again."
She smiled softly and took the cup.
Raily nudged Anna with her elbow.
"He likes you, you know."
Anna didn't answer, maybe she didn't know what to say.
Because every time she closed her eyes, she saw someone else.
Jace smiled again—that kind of smile that made people feel seen, heard, special.
And she hated that she couldn't return it the way he wanted.
He's a charming boy. The type who remembers how you take your coffee, who notices when your shoelaces are untied, who tells jokes just to hear you laugh. He's the kind of guy who deserves a love story of his own.
But her, Anna?
she doesn't even know how to love someone else.
"You okay?" he asked softly, leaning across the counter just a little.
Anna nodded, maybe too quickly.
"You're always okay until you're not," he added, with a small sigh.
She gave him a faint smile, the only one she could afford.
"Jace," Anna said, barely louder than a whisper, "You're a really good friend. You know that, right?"
He nodded, the corners of his eyes tightening just slightly—just enough to break her heart a little more.
"Yeah," he said. "I know."
And in that moment, Anna wanted to disappear into her dream world again.
Because it's easier to be kissed by someone made of starlight than to hurt someone standing right in front of you.
(To be continued...….)
📜 Copyright Notice
Rewritten by the Stars
Written by Sugarcane
© 2025 Sugarcane. All rights reserved.
No part of this story may be copied, reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means — electronic or mechanical — without the author's prior written permission. This work is a piece of original fiction and is protected under international copyright law.
⚠️ Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The story contains elements of fantasy, romance, and emotional content intended for a mature and thoughtful audience.