Every Street Has A Story · Zayden Cole
The Headphones Off
Zayden had got good at looking busy — headphones on, eyes down, playlist loud enough to drown out everyone else’s milestones.
Zayden had got good at looking busy.
Headphones on. Eyes down. Playlist loud enough to drown out the group chat where everyone seemed to be graduating, depositing, proposing, promoting — like life was a leaderboard and he’d forgotten to press start.
He wasn’t lazy. That was the part that stung. He worked shifts. He helped his mum. He showed up. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was late to a party nobody had actually invited him to.
Friday afternoon, bus delayed, rain starting. Hood up, silver chain cold against his collarbone, oversized charcoal hoodie, scrolling photos of people his age holding keys and certificates like proof.
Samuel was already on the bench across from the stop. Flat cap. Dark wool coat. Grey beard. Looking at the street the way other people look at phones.
Zayden almost walked past. Then the bus board flipped to another delay, and something in him gave up pretending he was fine being alone with the comparison.
He sat. Left one headphone in, like a half-door.
Samuel didn’t start with advice. He started with weather, then silence, then: “You alright, son?”
“Yeah.” Automatic. Then, quieter: “I don’t know. Everyone else is… ahead.”
Samuel watched a woman wrestle a buggy through the puddle. “Ahead of who?”
Zayden almost laughed. “Of me. Of where I’m supposed to be by now.”
“Says who?”
Zayden gestured at his phone. “Says… everyone.”
Samuel nodded, patient. “What happens if you don’t change anything?”
Zayden frowned. “I stay behind.”
“Behind who?” Samuel asked again, softer.
The second time, the question landed differently. Not as a riddle. As a mirror. Zayden looked at the feed again and saw, for half a second, that none of those people were racing him. They were living their days. He was the one who’d turned their days into a scoreboard.
He took the other headphone out.
“I thought if I moved fast enough, I’d catch up to a life that fitted,” Zayden said. “But I don’t even know what I’m chasing. I just know I’m tired of feeling late.”
Samuel smiled that slow smile. “Sometimes you don’t need a new lane. You need to stop running somebody else’s race.”
They sat until the bus came. Zayden didn’t get on with a five-year plan. He got on with one honest sentence in his notes app:
Behind who?
That night he muted three group chats. Not forever. Just for the weekend. He texted a mate he actually liked — not to compare jobs, just to ask if they wanted a kickabout Sunday. The mate said yes.
The Ripple
It wasn’t a glow-up. It was a small different direction: headphones off for one conversation, and a question that made the leaderboard look less like truth and more like noise. Comparison is loud. A real plan for today is quieter — and it fits in a notes app.
Questions I Ask Myself
Three to carry with you.
- Whose timeline am I measuring myself against — and did I choose it?
- What would “enough for today” look like if nobody was watching?
- Where could I trade comparison for one real conversation this week?
Feeling behind is often just proof you’ve been watching other people’s finishes instead of your own starting line. You don’t need a new life tonight. You might only need a better question — and the courage to take the headphones off long enough to hear it.
Maybe this story was yours too.
Every Street Has A Story.
One story. One thought. One different direction.
Welcome, Neighbour.
Now write
A reflection to keep
Whose timeline am I measuring myself against — and did I choose it?
This stays on this page. Nothing is sent or saved.
Who’s the Race Against?
A journalling exercise for anyone who feels behind — swapping the scoreboard for a clearer look at where you already are.
Neighbours in this story
The next door