Empire of Nothing

It happened between classes.

Nova had just stepped out of the art wing, her sketchbook tucked under her arm, headphones on but music paused. She liked listening to the sounds of campus — laughter, voices, rustling leaves — it reminded her she was here. Alive. Her own.

She took a shortcut through the courtyard.

And there he was.

Ryder.

Leaning against the wall like he had a right to wait for her. Hair a mess. Hoodie half-zipped. Restless eyes.

Nova kept walking.

"Nova," he said.

She didn't stop.

He stepped in front of her.

"I'm not here to fight," he said quickly.

She blinked, unimpressed. "Then don't."

"I just…" His voice cracked like it hated being vulnerable. "I know I was a jerk. I said things I shouldn't have."

"You did," Nova said calmly. "And I'm still not interested."

"Can I just explain—?"

"No."

The word was simple.

Flat. Cold.

Ryder flinched like he hadn't expected her to be so… done.

"I wasn't trying to make you leave," he muttered.

"But you didn't try to make me stay either."

Ryder looked down.

And for once, Nova didn't feel small.

Didn't feel like the girl being blamed, or ignored, or stomped on in a house too big for her voice.

She just felt…

Done.

"I'm glad you finally noticed I'm not there," she said. "But I don't owe you anything for it."

She brushed past him, not bothering to look back.

Not even when he whispered, "Nova…"

Because this time?

She got the last word.