Andro’s resolve began to crack as the days dragged on. He spent his time wandering the streets of Cairo, lost in a world that felt like it was moving too fast for him to keep up. His mind was constantly caught between two realities—the world he remembered and the one he was forced to navigate now. The unfamiliarity of everything around him made his chest tighten, the air thick with tension.

  The more he tried to understand this new world, the more it rejected him. People rushed by without noticing him, absorbed in their own lives, their own struggles. No one took the time to stop, to ask how someone else was doing. Andro began to wonder if he was the last person left who still believed in the importance of human connection. He had been raised on the belief that people were meant to care for each other, to help each other through the tough times. But now, he saw people as nothing more than isolated islands in a vast ocean of indifference.

  The music that once brought him solace now felt distant and foreign. His old cassette tapes, which he had clung to as if they were the last link to his past, now seemed like a relic. The songs that once filled him with warmth now left him feeling empty. He couldn’t help but wonder: Was it the music that had changed, or had it been him all along?

  One evening, he sat alone on a park bench, staring at the world around him. The people walking by were oblivious to him, their faces lit by the glow of their phones. He sighed, wishing for just one person to look at him the way people used to, with genuine curiosity, without the veil of distraction that had come to define this era.

  And then, as if answering his unspoken plea, a young woman sat beside him. She was wearing a simple black jacket, her dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her face was tired, but there was something familiar about her eyes. She glanced at him, then quickly turned away, her phone in hand.

  Andro hesitated. Something in her presence made him feel less alone, but he didn’t know why. He shifted nervously on the bench, glancing at the screen of his own phone. But before he could speak, she broke the silence.

  “Are you okay?” she asked softly, her voice a contrast to the cold, hurried tones of the people around them.

  Andro blinked, taken aback by her question. “Me? I’m... I don’t think I’m okay, actually. Not really.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  She studied him for a moment before speaking again. “I’ve been feeling that way too. I think a lot of people do. But no one talks about it.”

  Andro let out a short laugh, more out of disbelief than humor. “No, they don’t. They just... keep going, don’t they?”

  The woman nodded, her eyes distant. “It’s like everyone’s trying to outrun something. Or maybe they’re running away from themselves.”

  Andro looked at her, a sense of familiarity creeping up on him. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Lily,” she replied, offering a small smile. “And you?”

  “Andro,” he said, the name feeling strange on his tongue in this new world.

  The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a shared understanding of the weight of the world. Finally, Andro spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “I’m not from here,” he said, his words hanging in the air. “I don’t belong here.”

  Lily turned her head to face him fully, her expression softening. “What do you mean?”

  “I... I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like... everything’s different. People, the way they live, how they treat each other. I don’t understand it.”

  Lily nodded again, as if she understood exactly what he was saying. “Yeah, it’s like we’re all connected, but no one really cares enough to try. We’ve all become so used to being alone, even when we’re surrounded by people.”

  Andro stared at her, something stirring deep within him. “I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to forget how to care.”

  Lily smiled gently. “Then don’t. But it’s not easy. People... they’ll try to change you. They’ll tell you to harden your heart, to stop caring so much. But if you give in to that, you’ll lose yourself.”

  Andro felt a lump rise in his throat, the weight of her words sinking in. He had heard this before, from his father, from his mother—don’t lose yourself, no matter what the world says.

  “I don’t know if I can keep doing it, though,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “It hurts too much.”

  Lily’s smile softened, and she placed a hand on his arm. “It will hurt. But you’ll find that there are people out there who still care. It’s just... harder to find them in a world like this.”

  Andro looked at her, a small spark of hope igniting within him. Maybe there’s still a chance, he thought. Maybe I’m not the only one who feels like this.

  The world might have changed, but for the first time since arriving in 2017, Andro felt like he wasn’t alone. There was still someone who understood. Someone who hadn’t completely lost their way.

  The night air was cooler now, and the park around them was beginning to empty. But Andro didn’t feel the need to rush. He had someone to talk to. Someone who listened. It wasn’t much, but for now, it was enough.

  As he sat there with Lily, talking about everything and nothing, the weight on his chest lifted ever so slightly. The world hadn’t swallowed him whole. Not yet.

  He could still hear the faint echoes of the past, of the life he used to know. And he wasn’t ready to let those echoes fade just yet.