Darkness didn't fall that night it crept in, slow and deliberate, like it had a mind of its own. The city dimmed under its weight, streetlights flickering as though afraid to stay on. Somewhere in that silence, Ethan stood… listening not to the world, to her voice
Or the memory of it. He was in total darkness like the world and what was happening didn't exist he was lost in thoughts
"She still doesn't understand…" he muttered, his voice low, trembling at the edges. In a fleck of a moment His eyes burned with something restless, something that refused to settle. "After everything…all the messages, all the signs, she still doesn't understand me?"
A sudden grin pulled at his lips.
Not warmth.
Not joy, but Something else.
He turned sharply, knocking over a chair. It crashed against the floor, the sound slicing through the stillness like a warning. Another object followed. Then another. Glass shattered. Wood splintered. Each break echoed the chaos building inside him.
He sat somewhere with his knee up and head on knees
"You used to understand me…" he whispered, now quieter… almost hurt. "Before I even spoke…"
His breathing slowed.
Too slow.
Too controlled As if he had just made up his mind about something irreversible.
.....::
March 21st.
Ethan sat in a dim room, the glow of his phone reflecting off his eyes. His thumb hovered over Anna's number… then pressed.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
The line connected.
Voices overlapped. A broadcast line full of strangers. Then, at last her voice.
"Thank you for holding… I'm really sorry, but my time is up for today."
Polite, Professional, and Distant was Anna tone
Ethan didn't respond immediately.
He simply listened.
Then exhaled… slowly.
A smile crept across his face, thin and unsettling.
"Hahahaha…" he laughed under his breath. "So that's how it is…"
He leaned back, eyes narrowing.
"Alright, Anna… if that's the game you want to play I will play but with a twist…. I'll change the rules."
His voice dropped into a whisper, almost affectionate… almost dangerous.
"And when I do… you'll finally see me."
....
March 22nd.
The studio buzzed with its usual rhythm cables, voices, soft footsteps, last-minute adjustments before broadcast. Anna stood behind the console, focused, composed, preparing to step into her world the only place where she felt in control.
"Ready in five," someone called.
She nodded.
Headphones on.
Microphone adjusted.
Everything in place.
Then suddenly…
Silence.
Not gradual.
Not natural.
Instant.
The kind that makes people pause without knowing why.
Anna looked up.
"Why is everyone quiet?" she asked, removing one ear from her headphones. "What's going on?"
No one answered immediately.
A staff member stepped forward, avoiding her eyes.
"Anna… it's Mr. Jenkins."
Her expression changed.
"Jenkins…? What happened?"
A pause.
A heavy one.
"…He's dead.
The words didn't sound real.
For a moment, the room seemed to tilt. Anna's fingers loosened their grip on the headphones. Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Her face turned pale.
Her body froze.
Like her mind had refused to accept what it just heard.
Dead.
"W-what…?" she finally managed, barely above a whisper.
The room remained still.
Even the air felt heavier now.
Somewhere far away… unnoticed by anyone in that room… a phone screen lit up.
Ethan's name remained in the shadows.
...….,,,
**Flashback**
Jenkins walked alone, unaware of the figure watching from a distance.
A sudden movement.
He turned…..
"You???"
Recognition hit instantly.
Ethan stepped forward calmly, almost casually, as if they had planned to meet.
"So you really are the one standing between me and her…" Ethan said, his tone strangely composed.
Jenkins tried to react, but Ethan moved faster. The struggle was brief… controlled… deliberate. Ethan's grip tightened, calculated rather than chaotic.
Moments later, Jenkins collapsed.
Silence returned.
Ethan crouched beside him, watching carefully, breathing steady.
Not rushed.
Not panicked.
Focused.
When Jenkins regained consciousness, he found himself restrained , unable to move. Fear settled into his eyes as he realized the situation.
"Show me a picture of Anna," Ethan said calmly.
"I… I don't have one," Jenkins replied, voice shaking.
Ethan tilted his head slightly.
"Then why stop me from seeing her?"
"I was doing my job…"
A pause.
Ethan leaned closer.
"Then give me her address."
"I can't… I truly don't know. Anna's identity is protected. She's… hidden intentionally. It's part of the station's arrangement. Only a few people know who she really is."
For a moment… Ethan said nothing.
His expression tightened.
Then slowly… he smiled again.
Not anger this time.
Something sharper.
Understanding.
"Hidden…" he repeated softly. "Of course she is."
He stood up.
Walked away.
"La la la" he hummed
Then stopped.
Without turning back, he added quietly:
"Don't worry… you've helped more than you think."
Later… much later…
The truth surfaced in fragments.
Jenkins was discovered in his office.
No witnesses.
No clear explanation.
Officially… it appeared sudden.
But something didn't align.
Questions lingered.
Confusion spread.
The man known for stability… guidance… calm advice… gone without warning.
The investigation began.
But answers refused to come.
And Anna…
Still standing in the studio.
Still unaware.
Still breathing in a world that was already shifting beneath her feet.
Because somewhere in that silence…
Ethan was no longer waiting.
He was closing in.
And this time…
He wasn't asking to be heard.
He was preparing to be seen.