“You deserve better than people who think pain is entertainment,” he said quietly.
Cassandra nodded. “I agree.”
They counted down to midnight together. Fireworks burst outside the windows. Ben squeezed Cassandra hand.
“Make a big wish,” he said.
Cassandra whispered. “I wish for a life that feels real.”
Over the next weeks, their paths crossed often. Cassandra visited the old neighborhood where Trevor painted a community center wall. She brought coffee. She sat on a ladder rung watching him work. Ben told her about school and his dreams of designing flying trains.
Trevor remained cautious. “You live in penthouses and private cars. I live in a two room apartment with peeling paint.”
Cassandra smiled. “I have space and silence. You have color and laughter. I think you are richer.”
Slowly, trust formed. Cassandra taught Ben simple coding games. Trevor cooked pasta dinners that tasted of home. Cassandra admitted her parents raised her like a project rather than a daughter. Trevor admitted he lost Ben mother in a car accident five years earlier and had been afraid of loving again.