The Night Before School:
The moon hung high in the night sky, beautiful and distant—holding too many secrets.
His fingers tightened around the necklace resting on his chest. It was supposed to keep him calm. To help him.
But right now, he doesn't want to be calm.
With a sudden burst of frustration, he ripped the necklace off and threw it across the room.
A wave of emotion crashed into him all at once—anger, confusion, helplessness.
"Why… why!" he shouted, slamming his fist into the bed.
His body began to heat up, muscles tensing, skin prickling. His teeth ached, his jaw tightening unnaturally.
"I hate this…" he whispered through clenched teeth.
He got up and opened his window, staring out at the moon.
"My mom told me I'm a child of the moon… but this feels more like a curse."
His breathing slowed for a second, his eyes shimmering—then briefly glowing a deep golden before returning to their usual silver.
"I don't want this. Take it away… I never asked for any of it."
He paused, realizing how ridiculous he must look—talking to the moon like some madman.
But then… he felt something. A flicker of warmth in his chest. Familiar.
He turned toward the moon again, eyes brimming.
"Dad?" he whispered.
For just a moment, it felt like his father was there. Watching. Reaching out.
Iván glanced toward where the necklace had landed, rushed to pick it up, and clutched it tightly. He wiped his tears away, the storm inside him beginning to settle.
"I don't know what I want in life… Dad," Iván whispered, his voice barely breaking the silence of his room.
He looked down at his hands, trembling slightly.
"My whole life… it was a lie."
A soft knock came from the other side of the door.
"Big brother? Is everything okay?" his sister's gentle voice called out.
He hesitated for a moment before replying, forcing a bit of calm into his voice.
"Yeah… I'm fine. Just having a little crisis, that's all."
There was a brief silence, then:
"Okay… good night."
"Good night," he replied softly.
As her footsteps faded, he stared up at the ceiling, the weight of uncertainty still heavy on his chest—but her voice had made it feel a little lighter.
Back in the present:
"Yeah," Iván said with a small smile. "I feel amazing."
He lied.
How could he be fine?
Iván glanced over at Olivia, a question lingering in his mind. After a brief pause, he spoke softly:
"Olivia… may I sit next to you?"
She blinked, a little surprised, then smiled softly.
"Um, yeah… that's fine." She said with a faint smile.
He took the seat beside her, the weight on his shoulders easing just a little.
"Say, Olivia…" he began.
"Hmm? Yes?"
"I know we barely know each other," Iván said, "but… you mentioned wanting to go into the medical field. Why is that, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Oh… well," Olivia murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She took a breath before continuing.
"It's a little cheesy, but… My older sister used to do archery, and she'd injure herself a lot when we were younger. I hated seeing her in pain, so I'd patch her up, wrap her bruises, stuff like that. I guess my passion for healing started there."
Iván smiled faintly. "That's not cheesy at all. Honestly, it's kind of amazing… having something you care about, something to guide you."
Then his expression faltered. He rested his head on the desk, voice soft and heavy.
"Meanwhile, there's me. A loser with no direction. I don't even know what I want to do with my life."
Iván didn't want to admit it, but even before all this werewolf stuff, he already felt lost.
"Before all this… I was still a mess," he muttered. "Soccer? Maybe. That was the one thing I liked. But beyond that, I'm not good at anything. I don't have any real passion—unless you count video games—and even then, I kinda suck at those too."
He dropped his head onto the desk, voice muffled. "I'm just… a loser."
There was a short silence before Olivia's voice broke through—soft, but steady.
"You're not a loser, Iván."
He looked at her, a little surprised.
"You're not the only one who feels this way," she said gently. "So many people don't know what they're supposed to do with their life. They drift, they panic, they numb themselves. But that doesn't mean there's nothing out there for them—or for you."
She looked up thoughtfully. "I really believe everyone has a reason for being here. Something they're meant to do."
Then she smiled at him. "You mentioned soccer. So why give up on it? You think all the great players had it easy? No way. They probably wanted to quit a hundred times. But they didn't. They kept going."
Iván lifted his head slowly. Her words hit something deep inside him—a small flame that hadn't quite gone out.
For the first time in a while, he felt warmth in his chest… and heard his own heartbeat, strong and clear.
"…Thanks, Olivia," he said quietly. "You're right."
It was like a fire had been reignited inside him.
Iván sat up straight, determination burning in his eyes. He turned to Rowan, no longer caring about the wolf gene, the fear, or any of it. He was going to live his life—on his terms.
"Rowan," he said with new energy, "tell me—does Beacon Hills have a soccer team?"
Rowan blinked. "Uh, no. There isn't enough interest to form one."
Iván grinned. "Then will you help me start one?!"
He practically shouted it, his voice echoing across the classroom. A few students turned, confused by the sudden outburst.
Rowan chuckled. "Well, we'd need a coach, obviously."
"But we're in luck," Rowan said, eyes gleaming. "My dad's looking for work. With a little push from the school board, I'm sure we can get a team up and running!"
Just then, Zack walked in, yawning.
"Hey, Zack!" Iván called across the room.
Zack raised an eyebrow. "Huh? What?"
"Are you any good at soccer?"
Zack smirked. "Am I good at soccer?" He gave a playful shrug. "Whatever this is, I'm in. Sounds fun—and lacrosse is boring anyway."
Iván nodded, crossing his arms before turning to Olivia.
"You're amazing," he said, his voice sincere.
Olivia's eyes widened at his words, her cheeks flushing pink. She glanced his way, and for a moment, the heavy weight that had been holding Iván down seemed to lift.
Then his gaze drifted beyond her, as if he were seeing something far away—something brighter. In his mind, he pictured himself once again chasing a childhood dream: playing for a major soccer club in Europe.
She closed her eyes and remembered—
"Big sis, let me help. Let me heal you."
"I'm okay, Liv. See? It's just a little cut. Nothing to worry about," Allison said with a reassuring smile.
But Olivia crossed her arms stubbornly. "Nope. You could get an infection." She gently cleaned her sister's finger, focused and determined.
Allison placed a hand on her head, smiling. "You know, Liv… you're really good at this. I think you'd make an amazing doctor someday."
Olivia looked up at her, eyes wide. "You really think so?"
"All the way."