1: Life Isn't Fair
PROLOGUE
“Are you ready?”
Arem’s voice was calm, almost gentle.
I had always known what my answer would be.
Yes.
But now that I had finally learned to love my life... it was being taken away from me.
I wiped the tears from my face, yet they refused to stop falling. My gaze lingered on Ryuan’s sleeping figure. Every part of me wanted to stay by his side, but I couldn’t.
Slowly, I turned toward Arem.
My hand trembled as I reached for his. He clasped it without a word, and together we walked toward the blinding light.
And for the second time in my life...
I realized that life was never fair.
Chapter 1: Life Isn’t Fair
Our team leader’s shrill voice echoed through the conference room. Her furious gaze swept across us as if she wanted to chew us out one by one. She threw a stack of papers onto the table, and I watched them flutter to the floor. Her voice alone was enough to give anyone a migraine. If stuffing a towel into her mouth were socially acceptable, I would’ve done it a long time ago.
This was just another ordinary day at work.
Getting scolded—even when it wasn’t my fault—had practically become part of my job description. Sometimes I wondered if Ma’am Minda couldn’t get through a single day without lecturing someone. Every morning she gathered us like a priest about to deliver a sermon.
And today’s sermon?
Me.
“Claudierraine!” she barked. “Didn’t I tell you to read the customer’s concern carefully before processing a shipment? Hey! Are you even listening? Claudierraine Diaz!”
Reluctantly, I snapped back to reality.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
She rolled her eyes so dramatically I thought they might get stuck. Tapping her tablet sharply, she shoved it toward me.
“A customer filed a complaint because the wrong product was shipped. Do you know what happened? We received a one-star review!”
I reached for the tablet, but she pressed it firmly against the table, refusing to let go. My patience had already worn dangerously thin. So I snatched it from her hand. She stared at me in surprise, but I ignored her and carefully read the review.
“Ma’am Minda, this wasn’t my mistake,” I said calmly. “The customer even thanked me. I wasn’t the one who processed the shipment. Let me check who did...” My eyes scanned the order history. “...It was Jill. She processed the shipment. So why am I the one getting yelled at?”
“She did,” Ma’am Minda snapped, “but you’re the one the customer mentioned! Haven’t I told all of you? If you’re confused about something, ask! This almost reached our client!”
“But it wasn’t my mistake,” I argued, trying to keep my voice steady. “The customer only mentioned me because I was the one who spoke to them over the phone and created the support ticket. I wasn’t the one who submitted the shipment. All the details I entered were correct. Someone else entered the wrong order.”
She waved a dismissive hand.
“Enough. Let’s just move forward. Make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
I clenched my jaw so tightly it hurt. I hated it whenever she opened her mouth because nothing good ever came out of it. She was the type of manager who lived to lecture people. Whenever a customer filed a serious complaint, she’d scold us first—even when we weren’t the ones at fault. She was too afraid to confront employees from other departments, yet she never hesitated to throw us under the bus. Standing up for her own team? Apparently, that wasn’t part of her job description. She also had a habit of abusing whatever authority she had. Once she decided she didn’t like you—or if you dared to stand up to her—you instantly became her favorite target. She’d nitpick everything you did, blame you for problems you didn’t cause, and even sabotage your work until you finally resigned.
Just like me.
She’d wanted me gone for a long time because I refused to stay quiet whenever she was being unfair.
“Guys,” she said in a calmer tone as she looked back down at the tablet she’d taken from me, “learn from your mistakes. Let’s move forward.”
There it was. That was always her favorite line whenever she didn’t want to hear anyone else’s explanation. After listening to her speeches every single day, we’d practically memorized her script. She even had a predictable pattern.
“Next she’ll say lenient,” Leslie whispered beside me before Abbey nudged her with an elbow.
“No,” Abbey whispered back with a grin. “She’ll say, ‘I don’t want to brag about myself.’"
The two of them struggled to suppress their laughter. Sure enough...
“I don’t want to brag about myself, guys,” Ma’am Minda declared, “but when I was in your position, I was never late.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing and discreetly pinched Abbey’s thigh.
“Lenient... lenient...” Ate Cath murmured from my other side.
“I’m already being so lenient with all of you. What more do you want?” Ma’am Minda continued.
That was it. The four of us nearly burst into laughter. Her eyes narrowed.
“What’s so funny?”
We shook our heads so fast they almost fell off, desperately trying to keep straight faces. Those were the exact same lines she always used. We’d gotten so used to them that we could predict her entire speech word for word.
“We’re just wasting time. Get back to work, you potatoes!” she barked before storming out of the conference room.
The second the door closed behind her, we smacked each other’s shoulders and burst into uncontrollable laughter.
**
I CLOSED my locker with a sigh.
Time to go home. Working day after day only to end up with almost nothing left from my paycheck was exhausting. But what choice did I have? Bills never stopped coming. I’d thought about quitting countless times. But then what? I’d only end up looking for another job, adapting to another workplace, and dealing with another set of coworkers. Just thinking about it made me tired. Work had consumed so much of my life that I’d lost interest in everything else.
“Take care on your way home, Claudie,” Ate Cath teased with a wink. “Be lenient on the road, or you might accidentally move forward."
I laughed under my breath and nodded. Apparently, none of us were ever going to let Ma’am Minda live those phrases down.
Outside the building, I waited for the bus.
Thankfully, my shift ended at three in the afternoon. If I’d gotten off any later, I’d be stuck in rush-hour traffic.
A cold drop landed on my head.
I looked up.
Rain.
It was only drizzling, so I didn’t bother opening my umbrella. When the bus arrived, I climbed aboard and collapsed into a window seat. As soon as I leaned my head against the glass, the drizzle turned into a heavy downpour. Good thing everyone had already made it inside.
I stared blankly at the rain streaking across the window.
What am I even doing with my life?
Somewhere along the way, I’d lost interest in everything I used to love.
I no longer wrote songs.
I no longer played my keyboard.
I no longer painted.
These days, I went home just to sleep before waking up to repeat the same routine. On the rare occasions I got home early, I’d spend the rest of the evening preparing meals for my family.
My life revolved around work and responsibilities.
Sometimes, it became too much.
Sometimes, I cried.
There was only one reason I kept going.
Him.
I wiped the fog from the bus window, though it did little to improve the view. Through the rain, I caught sight of a massive billboard featuring the face of a famous shoe brand’s newest ambassador.
“Ryuan...”
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling as I softly whispered his name.
Ryuan is both an actor and a singer.
The moment I heard him sing for the first time, I became an instant fan. To this day, I’ve never come across another artist as versatile as he is. He could effortlessly switch from one genre to another, and somehow even change the color and texture of his voice to match each song.
He had fair skin, slightly almond-shaped eyes, and a well-built physique. He always looked effortlessly stylish, and he excelled at sports too. He was the kind of man anyone could easily fall for.
But what made me admire him most wasn’t his looks or his talent. It was where he came from.
Ryuan grew up in a poor family. At just seven years old, he was already joining singing competitions and auditioning anywhere he could. Everything he had today was something he’d earned through years of hard work. If I were ever given the chance, I’d want to know the real Ryuan—not just the celebrity everyone admired. But no matter how much I wished for it, we lived in completely different worlds.
His life revolved around cameras, flashing lights, and millions of fans. Mine revolved around overtime, unpaid bills, and surviving until payday.
Compared to him, I was nobody. I was just another poor woman struggling to make ends meet no matter how hard I worked. And even if I somehow became rich overnight... would someone like him ever notice me? Probably not. I wasn’t beautiful. At least, not by my own standards. Whenever I looked in the mirror, all I saw were flaws. My insecurities clung to me like shadows I could never escape. I let out a long sigh and closed my eyes. Sometimes my mind wandered too much.
What if this happened?
What if things had turned out differently?
My life had become one endless chain of what ifs that never led anywhere.
If only I’d been born rich. Then maybe life wouldn’t feel so suffocating.
Or maybe...
Maybe I could’ve been one of the people fortunate enough to stand beside Ryuan.
“My dear,” an elderly woman beside me said gently, “you seem to have a lot on your mind.”
I turned toward her. She wore a dark shawl over a long skirt, and a blue cross hung from a chain around her neck. Despite her age, her smile carried a comforting warmth.
I smiled back.
“I do.” I nodded toward the billboard outside the bus window. “See the man up there? I have the biggest crush on him... but there’s no way someone like me could ever catch his attention.”
“And why do you think that?”
“Because we live in different worlds.” I laughed bitterly. “Who am I compared to Ryuan? I’m just... poor.”
The old woman tilted her head.
“So, because you’re poor... does that mean you’re not allowed to dream?”
“It’s not like that,” I replied softly. “It’s just that being poor means your choices are limited. Sometimes... I can’t help thinking that life is unfair.”
She shook her head.
“That’s not true. God created all of us as equals.”
A small smile tugged at my lips.
“You’re very religious, aren’t you?” I said. “That’s why you can say something like that.”
“Why?” she asked softly. “Don’t you believe in God?”
The question caught me off guard.
For a moment, I stared at the rain sliding down the bus window, watching the blurred city lights disappear behind the droplets. I didn’t know how to answer without sounding disrespectful.
A small smile finally formed on my lips. “It’s not that I don’t believe in Him,” I said. My fingers tightened around the edge of my bag. “I do. But sometimes...” I paused, searching for the right words. “Sometimes, I wonder if the things that happen to us are really fair.”
The old woman remained silent, listening.
“No one wakes up and chooses to suffer,” I continued. “No one asks for a difficult life. But somehow, so many people end up carrying things they never wanted.”
Her gaze softened. “Are you saying the world He created isn’t beautiful?”
I looked outside again. The rain blurred everything beyond the glass, turning the world into a watercolor painting. Beautiful, maybe.
But beauty wasn’t the same as kindness.
“It is beautiful,” I admitted. “For people who have been given the chance to enjoy it.” I lowered my voice. “But for people like us...” My reflection stared back at me from the dark window. Tired eyes. A face that had forgotten how to smile. “Sometimes, it doesn’t feel beautiful at all.”
The woman nodded slowly, though the look in her eyes told me she wasn’t completely convinced.
And suddenly, I regretted everything I’d said.
Why did I have to bring this up?
She was only trying to comfort me, yet here I was, pouring my frustrations onto someone who probably didn’t deserve to hear them.
“I’m sorry,” I quickly said. “I didn’t mean to question what you believe in.”
She only smiled. “It’s all right.” Her voice was gentle, almost soothing. “I know your heart is carrying many questions.”
I looked at her.
“But one day,” she continued, “you’ll understand the answer you’ve been searching for.”
Something about the way she said those words made my chest tighten. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words never came. Because I noticed her eyes.
For a brief second...
They shimmered.
Not like a reflection from the passing lights outside.
Not like the glow of the bus interior.
It was something else. Something impossible.
A sudden brightness flashed before me, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut.
When I opened them again...
The seat beside me was empty.
I froze.
My hand slowly reached toward the space where she had been sitting, as if she might somehow still be there. Nothing.
I stood up and scanned the bus. The passengers were still in their seats. The vehicle continued moving through the rain. No one seemed to notice anything strange.
But she was gone.
“Where did she go?” I whispered.
A strange heaviness settled in my chest.
Maybe I had offended her.
Maybe she moved because she didn’t want to sit beside someone like me anymore.
I shook my head.
No.
That wasn’t possible. The bus was still moving. She couldn’t have gotten off.
Unless...
I stopped myself before my thoughts went any further.
With a tired sigh, I returned to my seat and rested my head against the window.
Maybe I was just too exhausted.
Maybe I was imagining things.
I closed my eyes.
Just for a while.
Just enough to forget everything.
A violent screech ripped through the bus. My eyes snapped open. The sound of tires dragging against the road filled the air. The entire vehicle shook.
The passengers immediately grabbed onto whatever they could reach as the bus swerved left and right.
“What is happening?!”
“Everyone hold on!” Then came the conductor’s panicked shout. “The brakes... the brakes aren’t working!”
The words struck harder than the impact that followed. A wave of screams erupted. Someone started crying. Someone else began praying.
The bus twisted across the road like it had a mind of its own. My shoulder slammed against the window as we turned sharply, my body thrown helplessly with every movement.
And yet...
I didn’t scream.
I didn’t run.
I just sat there.
Watching everything happen.
So this is it.
The thought came strangely calm. This was supposed to be the moment people begged for more time. The moment they promised themselves they would change.
But all I could think about was how tired I was.
How long I’d been carrying everything alone.
Maybe death wasn’t as frightening as everyone said.
Maybe it was just an ending. No more bills waiting at the end of every month. No more waking up exhausted. No more pretending I was okay.
A small smile touched my lips.
Finally... I could rest.
The next second, a deafening crash exploded through the bus.
Metal twisted.
Glass shattered.
The world flipped.
My body was thrown forward as darkness rushed toward me.
But before I lost consciousness...
I saw her.
The old woman.
She stood at the front of the bus.
Still.
Unharmed.
And surrounded by a blinding light.
Her clothes glowed like they were woven from starlight, illuminating the chaos around her. Her eyes met mine. Then everything disappeared.
