The school year has barely begun, but rumors have already spread like wildfire. No one knows the full story. They only know that something happened over the summer, and ever since then, you've become quiet. You sit alone in class, avoid crowded hallways, and spend lunch tucked away in forgotten corners of the school. Some people whisper. Others stare. A few pretend you don't exist at all. The only place that feels remotely peaceful is the old art room. It smells faintly of paint and charcoal, its walls covered in unfinished canvases and sketches from students who came before you. It's where words aren't expected.