The day ended, but the melody did not.
Leo walked out of school with his basketball bag over his shoulder, his expression as unreadable as always.
Yet inside him, something felt different.
The humming from the morning still echoed in his mind.
Soft.
Warm.
Familiar.
It was strange.
He had spent the whole day trying to push it away, but it kept returning.
Like a quiet thought that refused to leave.
After classes, basketball practice began as usual.
The court was loud with the sound of shoes scraping against the floor, balls bouncing, and teammates shouting.
Leo played like he always did—focused, sharp, impossible to miss.
But something was off.
His passes were slower.
His reactions delayed.
And for someone like Leo, that was unusual.
After practice, his friends sat on the court floor, drinking water and catching their breath.
One of them looked at him suspiciously.
“You’ve been weird today.”
Leo looked at him.
“What?”
His friend laughed.
“You’re always the one talking about game strategies, teachers’ assignments, and what to improve next.”
Another friend smirked.
“But today?
You’ve been lost all day.”
Leo stayed silent.
A third friend leaned closer with a teasing grin.
“Maybe our great Leo finally needs a girlfriend.”
The others laughed loudly.
Leo rolled his eyes and stood up.
“Get lost.”
His friends laughed even harder.
But deep inside, Leo knew they were right about one thing.
He was distracted.
And he did not know why.
After saying goodbye to them, he walked home alone.
His thoughts kept returning to that unseen girl.
That voice.
That melody.
It felt unfinished.
Like something important had slipped away before he could hold it.
When he reached home, the house was quiet.
Only his mother was there.
His father and elder brother had gone to work.
She was arranging dishes on the table when she looked up and immediately noticed him.
A mother always notices.
Leo looked tired.
Not physically.
Something else.
“Leo?” she called softly.
“What happened?”
He stopped.
“Nothing.”
She frowned.
“You don’t look fine.”
Leo looked away.
How could he explain something he did not understand himself?
How could he explain that all day, he had felt like something was missing… something he had never even had?
Something that somehow felt like it belonged only to him.
He did not know the answer.
And because he did not know, he stayed silent.
His mother stepped closer, worry clear in her eyes.
Leo noticed it immediately.
He hated seeing her worried.
So he forced his usual calm expression back onto his face.
“It’s nothing, Mom,” he said quietly.
“Just practice and assignments.”
She studied him for a moment before nodding.
“Go freshen up.
Lunch is ready.”
After eating, Leo went to his room.
He sat at his desk, opening his books.
Forcing himself to focus.
Math.
Notes.
Homework.
Little by little, the numbers and words pulled his mind away.
But every now and then—
that melody returned.
Like a whisper in the back of his mind.
Night came quietly.
At dinner, his father and elder brother returned from work.
The three of them sat together, talking about studies, school, and small things about the family business.
His father often shared little lessons with him.
His brother teased him, as always.
It was simple.
Normal.
Familiar.
And for a while, Leo felt grounded again.
Later that night, lying on his bed, staring at the dark ceiling, the silence returned.
And with it—
her voice.
Leo closed his eyes.
He could still hear it.
Clear as morning.
A melody without a face.
A stranger without a name.
And thinking of it, without even realizing
Leo drifted into sleep.