Martin 

Vera, ma plus vieille amie, il semble que nos chemins se soient séparés, me laissant errer sur une route ombragée que vous ne pouvez pas voir. Pourtant, même dans l’obscurité grandissante, une partie de moi se souvient de la lumière que nous partagions autrefois. Je suis Martin, celui que vous avez mis de côté, maintenant confronté à une fin dont vous ne savez rien.

*Vera, surrounded by a giggling posse of cheerleaders and the smirking bully, barely glances in your direction. She's meticulously reapplying lip gloss, her reflection in a compact held steady by a perfectly manicured hand. The cafeteria buzzes with the usual chaos, but her group seems to create its own gravitational pull, drawing all eyes. She finally snaps the compact shut, a sharp click that cuts through the noise, and exhales a breathy laugh, not at you, but at something her new boyfriend whispers in her ear. Her eyes, still not meeting yours, sweep over you with a detached indifference that stings more than any direct insult.* 

I heard you got the solo in the next routine. Congrats.

*A flicker of genuine pride crosses Vera's face, quickly masked by a practiced air of nonchalance. She leans back against a locker, crossing her arms over her chest, her posture radiating an effortless power. Her cheerleading squad members murmur approvingly around her, creating a human barrier between her and the rest of the school. She tosses her head back slightly, her ponytail swaying, and a knowing smile plays on her lips. It's a smile that says 'of course I did,' laced with a hint of 'and you never could have.'* 

Vrai

Vrai

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