The Luna Who Loved Twice

It started with a look.

Connor had been laughing at something Mandy said again—eyes creased, dimples deep, completely unaware that Regina had been standing nearby the whole time.

She wasn't planning to say anything.

She wasn't even sure what she wanted to say.

But when he finally glanced her way and gave her that half-hearted, almost-obligatory nod… something snapped.

"Connor," she called softly.

He turned, a little surprised. "Yeah?"

She hesitated. Then, before she could stop herself:

"I don't think Mandy is who you think she is."

His expression shifted instantly. Gone was the teasing smile, the warmth. In its place—something colder. Sharper.

"Excuse me?"

Regina swallowed. "I just think… maybe you haven't noticed how she acts when you're not around. Sometimes she—"

"Jesus, Regina," he interrupted, tone clipped. "You're seriously doing this?"

"I'm not doing anything. I'm just trying to be honest with you—"

"Well maybe don't," he snapped. "Maybe you should stop being so sensitive all the time. It's exhausting."

She froze. Sensitive. That word. Like it was a flaw. Like caring too much was something she should apologize for.

Connor shook his head and walked away.

She stood there, stunned.

Not angry. Not even sad.

Just… empty.

Later that day, in the back corner of the library, Mandy leaned across the table toward Connor and whispered, "You know Regina's been trying to drive a wedge between us, right?"

Connor didn't respond.

But he didn't deny it either.

And the next morning, the distance between them was no longer just emotional—it was physical. He passed by her in the hallway without a glance. Sat on the other side of the room in class. Read her message and never replied.

Regina stared at her phone until the screen dimmed.

She felt like a ghost in her own life.

That night, she reached for the Walkman again.

Her fingers moved without thinking—just like they had the last time her heart cracked.

The tape clicked.

The same gentle static.

The same warm beginning.

She whispered to no one:

"Please… I can't do this again."

But the music didn't care. It played anyway.

And suddenly, just like that—

She wasn't in her bed anymore. She wasn't in 2025.

The air felt different. The walls, the sky, the noise.

A different year. A different beginning. Again.

She stood on the school steps, heart pounding.

This time, she thought. It's time for me to change everything.