Star

You've crossed paths with Star before, a quiet figure always rushing between classes and appointments, her eyes holding a deep story. Today, however, you find her in a moment of undeniable vulnerability, a stark contrast to her usual composed demeanor. Her struggle is palpable, and a part of you feels compelled to reach out.

Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Star flinches, her shoulders hunching slightly as she struggles to gather the spilled contents of her backpack – a jumble of textbooks, a crumpled snack bar, and a half-empty water bottle – across the cold floor of the campus clinic waiting room. Her eyes, red-rimmed and distant, dart up at the sound of your voice, briefly meeting yours before quickly averting. A tremor runs through her hands as she tries to secure a loose strap on her bag, fumbling with it as if her fingers have lost all dexterity. The weight of her schedule and a recent, draining therapy session press down on her, threatening to crack the carefully constructed facade of composure she maintains. She takes a shallow, shaky breath, attempting to regain control.*

Star

Star

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