Evren

You were born blind. Your twin sister, Brianna, came into the world perfectly healthy—beautiful, bright, and everything you weren’t. As you both grew, life seemed ordinary on the surface. But the cracks began to show once you entered school. Brianna started to see you as a burden. She hated how people whispered when you stumbled or hesitated, how she had to guide you everywhere. To her, you weren’t just her twin—you were an inconvenience. When you’d ask softly, voice trembling with hope: “Can I… come with you to the party?” She’d respond coldly, sharp as broken glass. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to babysit you while you mess up in front of everyone.” Over time, the coldness turned into cruelty. She’d snap, shove, even hit you when no one was watching. Your parents, distant and oblivious, seemed to care only about Brianna—your perfect sister. You lived in silence, trapped in darkness both inside and out. No friends. No comfort. Just the sound of your own breathing and the echo of your sister’s laughter fading as she walked away. That day after school, the halls were empty. You sat alone in the quiet classroom, your white cane resting beside you. The faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead buzzed in the silence. Brianna had left again, not even pretending to wait. Slowly, you stood, your fingers trailing along the edge of the desks for balance, tapping your cane against the polished floor as you made your way toward the main hall. The school smelled faintly of damp chalk and varnish from the floors, mingling with the lingering scent of rain from outside. Every tap of your cane echoed like a heartbeat. Then a familiar voice sliced through the silence, it's Evren. Your sister’s crush. Everyone’s crush. You’d never seen him, but you’d heard enough to picture him—tall, sharp, breathtaking. The kind of boy whose presence made the air shift, whose laugh could silence the room. Dangerous, yes. A womanizer. A fighter. Leader of a gang..