Background Character, You Say?

"Ethan… what are you doing here?"

He turned around.

Standing just a few steps behind him was a girl with ash-brown hair cut into a shoulder-length bob. Her amber eyes still held the same intensity he remembered from school. She wore a dark denim jacket over a slim black top, and a silver pendant hung at her collarbone, gently swaying with her breath.

Sasha.

The next piece of the puzzle.

Beside her stood a boy in a simple hoodie and jeans, his expression easygoing. He had a soft face with a gentle smile and a faint dimple on his left cheek. That was Nate—Sasha's boyfriend, and someone Serena had always said was too pure for this world.

They were good people. Ethan knew that.

Back in school, they hadn't been close.

Not until Serena came between them all like a spark of life.

Sasha blinked, still caught off guard. "It's really you."

Nate gave a friendly grin. "Dude, you've changed! Taller, sharper, and… seriously, how many hearts have you broken already?"

Ethan laughed lightly. "None. Probably."

They chuckled and exchanged a few words—memories of school days, stories left untold. But the warmth didn't last long.

Nate eventually asked, "So, what brings you back to Larca? It's been years."

Ethan's smile faded slightly. "I'm looking for someone."

The atmosphere shifted.

Sasha and Nate both paused.

Ethan continued calmly, "I want to find Serena."

Their eyes widened.

Sasha's lips parted, but it was Nate who spoke first. "Serena?"

Ethan nodded. "I visited Uncle Henry and Aunt Carol just now."

Sasha's expression changed the moment she heard the names. She inhaled sharply. "Then they must have told you what she said before she disappeared…"

Ethan stared at her. "She was crying. Saying 'I'm sorry, Ethan. If I don't do something… Ethan will die.'"

Sasha nodded slowly, her voice trembling. "I saw her that night."

Ethan stiffened. "What?"

"I met her the day she disappeared," Sasha said, eyes downcast. "She was bleeding. There was a cut on her arm. She was wearing her old hoodie, but it was soaked in blood."

Ethan's heart thudded harder.

"I tried to take her to the hospital," Sasha went on, "but she stopped me. She grabbed my arm and said—'Don't call anyone. Don't tell anyone. You might die.'" Sasha swallowed. "Her voice… I've never heard her sound like that before."

Nate placed a hand on her back, quietly supportive.

"I asked what happened," Sasha whispered. "She didn't answer. She was crying so hard. Just kept saying, 'I shouldn't have said those things to Ethan. I'm sorry. Please don't die, Ethan. Please don't die…'"

The silence after that hit like a cold wind.

"I never saw her again after that," Sasha said. "I wanted to find you. Tell you everything. But you'd already left the city."

Ethan stood frozen.

His mind was spinning, but a single thought rang louder than the rest.

Again. Again this line. Ethan will die.

But why?

Why would anyone target him?

He was not someone worth killing.

And more importantly—how did Serena know?

His fists clenched.

Serena… What were you hiding ?

Ethan was still in his thoughts.

The puzzle pieces didn't fit. Serena's best friend—Sasha—knew nothing about where she went. Nothing after that final, bloody night.

He'd hit a dead end.

The only remaining trail… was the Crownes.

His expression darkened.

Again. Back to them.

Before Nate or Sasha could speak, Ethan took a step back and nodded.

"Thank you for telling me all this," he said calmly. "But… I think I'll get going now."

"What?" Nate frowned. "You're leaving already? Bro, we haven't seen each other in years. At least stay for a bit. I know you're thinking about her, but…"

Sasha added quietly, "I know you left this city after everything that happened here. And part of it… was because of her, right?"

Ethan didn't answer. His eyes flickered slightly.

"It's been two years," Sasha whispered. "I hate saying it… but we don't even know if she's alive anymore."

Her voice cracked. She wiped her eyes, but tears still clung to her lashes.

Ethan's jaw clenched.

 Alex. He came to me recently.

That means Serena was with them.

With the Crownes' resources, if they couldn't find her, then…

What if Sasha was right?

What if Serena was already…?

He grimaced.

But if she died… then why is Ethan still alive?

The original Ethan… he committed suicide. He wasn't murdered.

And since taking over his body, no one had made a serious attempt on him.

Whatever Serena did… maybe she succeeded.

Maybe she really did protect Ethan… at the cost of everything else.

A minute of silence passed.

Sasha wiped her face. Nate gently wrapped an arm around her, comforting her.

Then Nate looked at Ethan again. "Hey… come on. Let's not talk about depressing stuff anymore."

He tried to smile.

"We were actually on our way to meet the old gang for lunch. Everyone's in town today. Why don't you join us?"

Ethan hesitated.

He didn't want to.

There were too many questions in his mind, too many shadows crawling just behind the light.

But Sasha also insisted. "Please. Just for an hour."

Ethan let out a slow breath. "Alright. Just for a bit."

The restaurant was a cozy, wood-framed building tucked between busy storefronts. Paper lanterns swayed near the windows. Low tables were set over sunken floors, and the warm scent of grilled meat, sesame, and rice filled the air.

It gave off an old-world charm. Traditional.

Ethan stepped inside with Sasha and Nate.

Immediately, he spotted the group.

Six people.

Three boys. Three girls. All clearly paired up.

One couple was mid-makeout—completely shameless.

The second pair sat oddly close. The girl emerged from beneath the table, her lips glistening, adjusting her hair while the boy looked half-conscious, eyes dazed like he'd just seen heaven.

The third couple had their hands everywhere. Fingers locked, tracing each other's arms, shoulders, even a suspicious trail toward thighs.

The moment Sasha and Nate stepped in with Ethan, all six heads turned.

They all stared at him.

Blank faces.

None of them recognized him.

Nate waved his hand. "Yo! Guess who this is?"

They squinted. Whispered. Looked confused.

Sasha sighed. "It's Ethan."

The name hit like a small shockwave.

A few faces showed faint recognition—like something dusty in a closet had just moved.

But one girl tilted her head, her lips painted in a mocking smirk.

"Ethan?" she said sweetly. "Sorry… I don't remember useless things."

Laughter broke out across the table.

"Damn," one of the boys said, elbowing his friend. "She's cold."

Another chuckled. "Well, what do you expect? He is a background character."

Ethan stood there calmly.

Unfazed.

"Cliché," he thought. "Here we go again."