Ariana had made one rule for herself.
No feelings.
Not again.
Whatever this was — it was just chatting. Just friendship. Nothing more.
She reminded herself of that every time she opened the app.
That evening—
SilentStar15: So what should I call you?
There was a pause.
UnknownUser: You can call me whatever you want.
She rolled her eyes slightly.
SilentStar15: That's not helpful.
UnknownUser: Then don't call me anything.
She smiled.
He was strange.
Calm.
Mysterious.
But not irritating.
After a few seconds, she typed—
SilentStar15: Fine. I'll call you "Mr. Invisible."
The reply came fast.
UnknownUser: I don't hate that.
She laughed softly.
For the first time in months, she was talking to a boy without pressure.
No expectations.
No classroom eyes watching.
Just words.
Days turned into routine.
School.
Homework.
Dinner.
Chatting.
They began sharing small things.
Her fear of math sometimes.
His dislike for loud people.
Her habit of overthinking.
His habit of observing.
But she never let the conversation become emotional.
Whenever he asked something slightly personal—
She changed the topic.
She was careful.
Very careful.
One night—
UnknownUser: Did you ever like someone?
Her fingers froze.
Her chest tightened slightly.
Memories flashed.
The confession.
The laughter.
The teasing.
She stared at the screen for a long time.
Then typed—
SilentStar15: Not really.
A lie.
But a necessary one.
There was a pause.
Then—
UnknownUser: Good.
She frowned.
SilentStar15: Why good?
UnknownUser: Less complications.
She didn't reply.
Because for some reason, that answer annoyed her.