Pollen's P.O.V.
"WAAAAAAAHHHH!"
I screamed at the top of my lungs the moment I woke up. My hair was a bird's nest, and I could feel the crusty, dried sleep in the corners of my eyes. I rubbed them sleepily and stretched my arms, a gloomy expression on my face as I let out a long yawn.
Tangled in my blankets, I scrambled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. I rushed through my routine: brushing my teeth, washing my face, and applying my skincare. Once done, I changed into something comfortable for the day.
The reason for my morning scream? I'd forgotten to finish yesterday's remaining tasks. Today's workload was already heavy enough, and now I was drowning in it. I needed to finish everything immediately and send it off to my boss.
My name is Pollen Anderson. I'm 28 years old, and I live alone on Cloudnine Street. Usually, living alone isn't lonely because my 8:30 AM to 5:30 PM office hours keep me out of the house. But today was different. Today, I was working from home.
I brewed a cup of coffee and set it on the table beside my workstation.Sigh. I let out a heavy breath, staring at the screen.
I quickly texted Zachy to meet me at our usual spot at 9:00 AM. I had to finish this work as soon as possible so I could finally tell him what was happening to me.
— Fast Forward —
I was almost finished.I took a sip of my coffee and set the mug back down.
"Tadaaaa!" I muttered with a joyful grin.
Finally, I was done.
Click. Sent.
I did a final check in the mirror and hurried out the door toward the bus station.
8:10 AM at Cloudnine Bus Station
I was waiting for the bus, but it was late. Usually, it arrived exactly at 8:00 AM.
Looking around was exhausting; I couldn't stop seeing everyone's thoughts.
'Oh my god! That's the limited edition of my favorite book!' I could see the sparkle in the eyes of a teenage girl wearing a university uniform.
'Wow, look at the sky. It has such a nice, warm vibe,' thought an old lady at the opposite station.
'What a pity. I couldn't even get her number,' thought a tall boy in a basketball jersey.
'Too bad for us. We lost the game, but I'll make sure we win the next one,' the blond teammate beside him thought.
'Improvement is needed in our team right now,' their coach thought. He looked much older than them.
They were talking loudly about basketball, but I couldn't understand the technical talk. I only knew it was basketball because of the jerseys they were wearing.
The bus finally arrived. I stepped onto the bus and found a seat by the window. I pulled my phone out, plugged in my earbuds, and let the music drown out the hum of the engine.
As the bus started moving, I leaned my head against the glass and looked up. The rain from earlier had left the world feeling clean, and now, the sun was finally breaking through the clouds. I closed my eyes for a moment, basking in the warmth of the golden sunlight as it filtered through the window. It felt peaceful—a rare moment where the world felt quiet and the "noise" in my head finally dimmed. For a few minutes, I wasn't a girl haunted by thoughts; I was just a passenger enjoying the morning glow.
"We have arrived at 18th Street, Lotus Station," the bus chimed, shattering my peace.
I stood up and alighted. During the ten-minute walk from the station, I avoided everyone's gaze, keeping my eyes on the ground. Seeing people's thoughts made me feel uneasy—uncomfortable. It felt like I was invading their privacy, like I was committing a crime.
There was only one meetup place for Zachy and me. It was our go-to spot whenever we needed to talk.
"Eat & Read Cafe," I muttered.
I looked at the sign and remembered the day Zachy and I met. It was the summer after my college graduation. I was working as a part-time barista here, and he was the one who taught me the ropes. We became best friends quickly. He didn't talk much to others; he was always the nonchalant, mysterious type.
I snapped back to reality when someone bumped into my shoulder.
"Sorry," the girl said as she hurried into the cafe.
I just nodded and followed her inside. I recognized him immediately. He was wearing a pink sweater and a white coat with a plaid scarf. He had his glasses on, too. He really did look handsome in pink.
I waved when his gaze turned toward me and walked over. I was smiling, but then I saw his thought bubble:
'Why is she smiling like a freak?'
I pouted and sat down in front of him. I avoided his gaze at first, feeling like his stare was getting ready to devour me. Finally, I looked up and raised an eyebrow.
"Iam not a freak," I said, holding his eye contact.
"I didn't say anything," he replied calmly. He took a sip of his iced americano and flipped to the next page of his book.
He was reading fantasy—he loves the Isekai and supernatural genres. Because of that, I thought my situation would actually make him happy.
I snatched the book from his hands and placed it on the side of the table. He raised an eyebrow, still sipping his drink.
"I can read your thoughts—no, I can see them. And I'mnot a freak. My smile is as cute as a puppy's," I insisted, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes.
He let out a heavy sigh. "Haa... you think that's supposed to make me excited? You're clearly lying. I have a photoshoot this afternoon, so hurry up and tell me what this 'exciting news' is."
He was clearly uninterested. He grabbed his book back and started flipping through the pages to find his place.
'Is it something important, or just work-related again?' his bubble asked.
"It's not work-related," I told him.
He looked up, confused. "Ihaven't said anything."
The way he raised his eyebrow only made him look more handsome. It was a pity he was already taken—and that I wasn't even his type to begin with.
I glanced at him, my eyes drifting to the space above his head.
'Seriously, is she pranking me? Or what?'
"It's not a prank," I said flatly. "I'm responding to you, and you haven't even opened your mouth yet."
Cough! Cough!
Zachary choked on his iced americano, nearly spilling it all over his white coat. He quickly wiped his mouth and regained his composure, but his cool mask was slipping. He looked perplexed—literally, the bubble above his head had shifted into three giant question marks: '???'
"Listen, Zachary Taylor," I said, leaning in. "Ihave this... ability. I can see people's thoughts. I know you think I've lost my mind—trust me, I thought so too. But I am completely sane. It started four days ago. I just woke up like this."
I face-palmed, feeling the weight of his skepticism.
'She's definitely pranking me,' his bubble insisted.
"Stop it, Pol. I'm not buying it," he said, flipping a page of his book, acting unbothered.
"I am not pranking you!" I stood up and slid into the seat beside him. I snatched the book again, set it on the table, and grabbed his hands. "Look at me, Zachary. I don't know how it happened, but it's real."
I was desperate. I looked around the cafe, searching for proof.
"Fine. You want proof? Look at that guy by the counter," I whispered, nodding toward a man in a suit. "He looks like he's checking his email, right? But he's actually thinking: 'I hope my wife doesn't find out I spent our vacation money on a crypto scam.'"
Zachary glanced at the man, then back at me, his eyes widening slightly.
"And that girl over there by the window?" I pointed to a student. "She looks like she's studying for finals, but her bubble says: 'I should just dye my hair blue and run away to a different city.'"
'Ugh, she isn't joking. That look on her face... she's telling the truth. But that's impossible,' Zach's mind raced.
"Look, Pollen," he said, standing up and pulling his hands back. "I... I really need to go. I have a photoshoot to attend."
He grabbed his things, but his nonchalant vibe was gone; he looked shaken. "I'll talk to you after the shoot, over the phone, okay?"
'I can't wait to see him,' his bubble suddenly glowed with a warm, sweet pink tint.
I watched him walk toward the glass door. A man was already waiting for him by a sleek car. It was Leonardo Martin—the owner of the Eat & Read Cafe and Zachary's boyfriend.
Watching them, you'd never think the word "gay" applied to them in the traditional sense. They were both "manly" men, tough and stoic, but the way Leo looked at Zach told a different story.
I hurried outside after them. "Wait!" I shouted before Zach could get into the car.
They both turned. I looked down, feeling a wave of guilt. "I'm sorry if I wasted your time. Let's just... talk later."
Zachary walked back over and ruffled my hair, giving me a small, genuine smile. "It's no big deal, Pol. I just really have to work today."
'I hope she's okay. She looks like she's about to break,' his bubble whispered.
He hopped into the car, and they drove off. I stood on the sidewalk, waving until the car disappeared.
I turned my back and started the long walk toward 18th Street Lotus Station.
"Will he even believe me?" I muttered to the empty sidewalk.
A heavy weight settled in my chest, making every step feel like a chore. It felt like the entire world was resting on my shoulders. I had no one else to run to besides Zachy. To me, he was more than a best friend; he was the older brother I never had.
I hailed a taxi and climbed inside. "TimelessGarden, please," I told the driver.
As the car moved, my anxiety spiked. What if he really thought I was going insane? How could I convince him? My mind raced with things I should have said, but nothing felt right.
"Ma'am, we're here," the driver announced. I paid the fare and stepped out.
Timeless Garden.
This was my sanctuary—the place I went when the sadness became too much to carry alone. My mother was here. She had passed away just one year after my college graduation. My biggest regret was never telling her enough how much I loved her.
The aura of peace was still the same. The cemetery was empty, the quiet air wrapping around me like a blanket. I found her grave and sat down on the grass.
Mira Anderson.
I lit a small candle, the flame flickering in the breeze. "I miss you," I whispered. The first tear fell, followed by a silent flood. I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms, letting the grief wash over me.
I stayed there for an hour, crying until my eyes were swollen. Finally, I wiped my face and stood up. "I'll visit again soon. I love you, Mom."
I dusted off my clothes and took one last breath of the peaceful air before heading back to the real world.
Zachary's P.O.V.
I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the car window, watching the city lights blur into long, neon streaks. My mind was a mess—a rare thing for me. Usually, I could switch off after a shoot, but today, the "cool" mask felt heavy.
All I could think about was the look in Pollen's eyes at the cafe. It wasn't just the weird things she said about the crypto scam or the girl wanting to run away; it was the sheer desperation in her voice. She looked like she was drowning in broad daylight.
Is she really seeing things? I wondered, my grip tightening on my phone. Or is she just so overworked that her brain is finally snapping?
There was no way she was lying. Not with the way she had looked at me earlier. She had been on the verge of tears, and that wasn't like her.
What the hell happened to her? I'd been so busy with work lately that I hadn't even checked in on her. She was like a little sister to me, and the thought of her struggling made my stomach twist. Even during the photoshoot, I couldn't focus. Every time the photographer told me to look "nonchalant," all I could see was her pouting face and those puppy-dog eyes, begging me to believe her.
Leo, who was driving, must have noticed my silence. He's always been able to read me better than anyone else. We lived together, but I knew he had to head back to the Eat & Read Cafe afterward to finish some reports and close up for the night.
He reached over and squeezed my hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. He always knew when my mind was spinning.
"Don't worry, Zach. Talk to her over the phone. If that doesn't solve it, we'll go see her together tomorrow," Leo said, his voice calm and steady. "She's lucky to have a brother like you, even if you're just friends."
Leo was always the understanding one. It was his calm strength that kept our relationship so stable. I squeezed his hand back, feeling a bit of the tension leave my body. "I just don't want her to go through this alone," I muttered.
We arrived at our house, and I stepped out of the car. I leaned back in and gave him a quick kiss. "Take care. See you later."
"See you, Zach," he said, driving off into the evening light.
I walked inside the quiet house and threw my coat on the sofa. I didn't even bother turning on the TV. I just sat there in the silence for a minute, staring at the dark screen of my phone. I needed to be the "cool, stable" one for her, even if I was secretly panicking inside. I took a deep breath, dialed her number, and waited.
Pollen's P.O.V.
My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I reached my front door. It was Zachy.
"Hey," his voice was quiet, lacking its usual nonchalant edge. "Are you home yet?"
"Just walking in," I replied, my voice still thick from crying.
There was a long pause on the other end. I could see his thought bubble in my mind, even though he wasn't standing in front of me: 'I really hope I'm not about to lose her to some mental breakdown.'
Icouldn't actually see his bubble through the phone, of course. It was just my imagination—a haunting projection of what I knew he was thinking.
"Listen," he said, his tone turning serious.
"About earlier... the cafe thing. Tell me everything. From the beginning."
"Okay. Just... let me get inside first," I said, my voice trailing off sadly.I quickly washed up, trying to scrub away the exhaustion of the day, before heading straight to my bed. I pulled the large pink teddy bear—Zachy's birthday gift to me last year—into my arms and hugged it tight.
With the phone pressed to my ear, I poured my heart out. I told him how it started four days ago—how I had simply woken up and the world was suddenly filled with visual noise. I told him how the silence of my own room was the only place I didn't feel like I was going deaf from the "shouting" of people's thoughts.
When I finished, the line went silent for a moment.
"I have a suggestion," he finally spoke. "Make an appointment with Dr. Valerie Matias. I'll go with you. Let's head there the day after tomorrow; I'll text you the time and where to meet."
I knew the name. Dr. Valerie was the Leonardo family's doctor—a brilliant woman who was a psychiatrist, a medical doctor, and a neurologist all in one.
"You aren't insane, Pol," he added, his voice firm. "We just need to check your physical and mental health. This could be a symptom of exhaustion, or it could be something else. Either way, I believe you. So don't worry."
Relief washed over me so suddenly that I felt weak. Those three words—I believe you—were the only thing I had needed to hear all day.
"Thank you, Zachy. Truly. Thank you for saying that."
"Get some sleep, Pol. I'll see you soon."
We hung up, and for the first time in four days, the "billion thoughts" in my head felt just a little bit lighter.
I pulled the pink teddy bear even closer, burying my face in its soft, familiar fur. It still smelled faintly of the laundry detergent I used, a scent that usually made me feel grounded. I shifted under the covers, curling my body into a ball around the bear.
The room was dark and finally, truly quiet. No bubbles, no floating text, no secrets from strangers. Just me and the steady, rhythmic sound of my own breathing. As my eyelids grew heavy, I gave the bear one last, tight squeeze. I drifted off into a dreamless sleep, clinging to the only piece of peace I had left.