Dorian stared at the photo in his hands.
Old. Worn. A younger version of himself—fat, ugly, insecure—standing next to someone he hadn't thought about in years.
Someone he'd hoped never to think about again.
The door creaked. He shoved the photo under his pillow.
Marcus walked in—well, he'd been there already, but now he was on his feet, patting his pockets, scanning the room with increasing agitation. His fingers patted his chest, his waist, his back pockets. Nothing.
"You've got to be kidding me," Marcus muttered.
Dorian watched. "You're still looking for your glasses?"
"Yeah, I still can't find them." Marcus ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "They've got to be around here somewhere. I'm getting a new prescription next week, but until then, I'm basically a mole person."
"Check your head."
Marcus touched his face. His forehead. His ears. "Funny joke."
"Did you check the fridge?"
Marcus sighed. "Already did. Tyler's not here to blame this time. Though honestly, I wouldn't put it past him to hide them for 'comedic effect.'" He made air quotes with his fingers.
Dorian stood, walked over. He scanned the area around Marcus's bed. The nightstand. The floor. Nothing.
"This is the third time this week. I hate being blind."
"You're not blind."
"Without these, I might as well be." Marcus patted his pockets again, as if hoping the glasses had magically reappeared. "Everything's just... blurry shapes. You could be anyone right now. You could be a stranger and I wouldn't know."
Dorian spotted something glinting behind Tyler's laundry basket. He walked over, moved the basket, and picked up the glasses.
"Found them."
Marcus took them, relieved. "Where?"
"Behind Tyler's mess."
Marcus put them on, blinked, and immediately froze.
He stared at Dorian.
Then he took the glasses off. Cleaned them with his shirt. Put them back on.
Stared again.
Dorian shifted. "What?"
Marcus shook his head slowly. "Nothing. Just... thought you looked different for a second." He adjusted the frames. "It's probably the lighting. Or I need a stronger prescription."
This isn't the first time Marcus has lost his glasses this week. Won't be the last.
Dorian shrugged. "Maybe."
Marcus headed for the door, then paused. "Hey. You doing okay? You've been... I don't know. Different lately."
Dorian's stomach tightened. "Fine. Just tired."
"Lot of late nights at the library?"
"Something like that."
Marcus nodded slowly. "Alright. Try not to overdo it." He left.
Dorian sat back down. Pulled out the photo again. Stared at the face next to his.
He let out a slow breath. Ran his thumb over the worn edges.
Then he folded it carefully and slipped it into his wallet.
---
He needed a shower.
The bathroom was empty. Good. He stripped, stepped under the hot water, and immediately realized his mistake.
Four inches.
He'd known it intellectually. Seen the system notification. But knowing and experiencing were different things.
He looked down.
Okay. That's... substantial.
He washed quickly, finished, and got out. Dried off. Stood in front of the mirror.
The face staring back was a stranger. He turned around, craned his neck to look at his back. More defined. His legs too—his thighs looked different. Stronger. He ran a hand through his hair. It felt thicker. Softer. He leaned closer to the mirror—his hair actually looked fuller. More volume. Like he'd just stepped out of a salon.
He straightened. Stood up tall. For a second, he felt like he was looking at the world from slightly higher than before. Probably his imagination. Probably.
Level four. One more to go.
He flexed. It looked ridiculous. He stopped.
Getting dressed was a whole new challenge. His boxers fit differently now—tighter in some places, looser in others. His jeans were worse. The waist was fine, but the front...
He spent five minutes rearranging, testing angles, learning the new physics of his body.
Let's hope this gets easier.
---
The walk to class was different.
A girl smiled at him. Not a polite smile—a real one. He almost looked behind him to see who she was smiling at.
A guy held the door open. "After you, man."
Dorian walked through, confused.
He was adjusting his jeans—just a small shift, trying to find a comfortable angle—when he noticed a girl approaching on the path. She was looking at him. Then her eyes flicked down. Just for a second.
Her cheeks went pink. She looked away quickly, a small smile playing at her lips as she passed.
Dorian's face burned.
They definitely noticed. But also... she smiled.
He stood taller. Made eye contact with the next person who passed. Didn't look away first.
Four inches will do that.
---
Dining hall. Lunch.
Tyler was already there, waving him over. Marcus sat across from him, scrolling through his phone, tapping out a message here and there. Kyle was at the end of the table, eating in silence, periodically glancing up like a nervous squirrel.
Dorian grabbed a tray and joined them.
A group of girls walked past. One of them glanced at him, whispered to her friend, and they both giggled.
Tyler's eyes went wide. "Dude, did you see that? They were looking at YOU."
"They were looking at all of us."
"No, man, they were looking at YOU." Tyler leaned in. "What's your secret?"
Four inches and a magical system.
"I don't know. Water?"
Marcus looked up from his phone. "Must be the soap."
Tyler squinted. "The soap?"
"The soap I'm not using." Marcus went back to his phone.
"Yo, Dorian!"
He turned. A guy from somewhere—class? The dorms?—was waving at him from two tables over. Smiling like they were old friends.
Dorian waved back. "Hey, man!"
The guy gave a thumbs up and returned to his friends.
Tyler stared. "Who was that?"
"I have no idea."
"You waved like you knew him."
"He waved first. What was I supposed to do?"
Marcus, without looking up: "Solid strategy. Wave at everyone. Build a network."
Kyle spoke for the first time: "I waved at some girls once. They ran. One of them tripped. She still ran. On the ground. It was weird."
Everyone looked at him. He went back to eating.
---
Professor Chen's class was the worst.
Not because of the material—because of the attention.
Chen scanned the room, his gaze landing on Dorian. He pointed.
Dorian blinked. Chen never called on him. Ever.
"Uh." He scrambled. "Bad faith is when you... when you pretend you have no choice? When you blame circumstances instead of... owning your decisions?"
Chen nodded slowly. "Go on."
"That's... that's all I've got."
Chen gestured for him to sit. Then pointed at a girl near the window.
"Miss Park. Expand on that."
The girl sat up straight. "Bad faith is the denial of our fundamental freedom. Sartre uses the example of a waiter who performs 'waiterness' too perfectly, convincing himself he has no choice but to be a waiter, when in reality he's choosing that role every moment."
Chen nodded. "Good. Solid answer." Then his voice sharpened. "Which you could have given last week when I asked you the same question and you told me you 'didn't do the reading.'"
The girl's face went red. "I—I was sick—"
"Being sick doesn't erase the reading. It means you catch up when you're better. Not show up empty-handed and hope I don't notice." Chen turned back to the board. "Page 147. We'll discuss applications on Friday."
Dorian sat there, stunned. Chen had just torn into her. But him? Nothing.
It's the face. It's always the face.
---
Back in the dorm, Dorian's phone buzzed.
Lisa: Hey Dorian! Saved your number. Hi! 👋
He stared at the message. Then typed back.
Dorian: Hey! Thanks for letting me crash. See you around?
Lisa: Definitely. Momo demands it.
Dorian: Tell her I'll bring treats.
Lisa: She'll hold you to that.
He smiled. Then caught himself.
Stop.
He set the phone down.
---
That evening, Tyler burst into the room.
"Movie night! Outdoor movie night! Everyone's going!"
Marcus looked up from his book. "What movie?"
"Don't know. Don't care. There will be snacks and blankets and girls sitting close because it's COLD." Tyler grabbed Dorian's arm. "You're coming. Sarah's coming. We're all coming."
Dorian pulled away. "I'll ask Sarah."
"Already texted her. She's in."
Dorian paused. "You don't have Sarah's number."
Tyler grinned. "I do now."
"How?"
"I have my ways." Tyler looked smug. "Actually, Jenna gave it to me. For 'emergency boyfriend coordination.' Her words."
Dorian stared. "Emergency boyfriend coordination?"
"That's what I said. She laughed. I don't know why. She said, 'You'll know when you need it.' Whatever that means." Tyler shrugged. "Anyway. Movie night. Be ready."
---
The quad was transformed.
A giant screen loomed at one end. Blankets covered the grass. Students huddled in clusters, sharing snacks, laughing, stealing glances at each other in the dark.
Dorian arrived with Sarah, a blanket tucked under his arm, a bag of popcorn in his hand. She was already scanning for a spot.
"Over there." She pointed to a patch near the center. "Good view."
They spread the blanket. Sat close. The night air was cool, and she pressed against him for warmth.
She smelled like vanilla and something floral. Her body was soft and warm against his side, her head fitting perfectly into the curve of his shoulder. He could feel her breathing, slow and content.
Dorian's body reacted. He adjusted. Subtly.
Sarah: "You okay?"
"Fine. Just... comfortable."
He scanned the crowd automatically.
Maya was sitting with friends a few rows back. She caught his eye and smiled—friendly, casual. Sarah waved. Maya waved back.
Why is she smiling? She never smiles at me.
Tyler was nearby with Kyle, looking miserable. Kyle sat perfectly still, staring at the screen like it held the secrets of the universe. Tyler kept glancing at a group of girls, none of whom glanced back.
Marcus was... on a date?
Dorian squinted. Marcus sat with a girl he didn't recognize. They were talking quietly, sharing a blanket, their shoulders touching. Marcus looked calm. Comfortable. Actually happy. The girl laughed at something he said, and Marcus smiled—a real smile, not his usual deadpan.
Marcus? On a date? Good for him.
Danielle was there with a guy. Tall. Fit. Dorian didn't recognize him. They were sharing popcorn, stealing kisses during the previews.
Tristan had prime seating near the front, surrounded by his usual entourage. Girls orbiting. Laughing at his jokes. Chloe was among them, sitting close, touching his arm during the trailers.
Dorian watched for a moment. The old jealousy flickered. But now, at Level 4, he felt something else.
He's not better than me. Not anymore.
Sarah followed his gaze. "Who's that?"
"No one."
---
The movie started.
It was one of those cheesy romance adaptations—two star-crossed lovers from feuding families, forbidden glances, secret meetings on balconies. The whole thing was aggressively, almost violently romantic. The male lead had flowing hair and cheekbones that could cut glass. He said things like "My love for thee is like the stars—constant, burning, eternal."
Sarah sighed happily.
Dorian fought the urge to roll his eyes.
On screen, the lovers reunited in a field of flowers. Soft music swelled. The camera spun dramatically.
Sarah squeezed his hand. "This is so beautiful."
It's a flower field. They're standing in it. That's the whole scene.
But watching her—eyes bright, completely absorbed, her lips parted in that soft smile—he couldn't help the warmth that spread through his chest.
Later, the male lead declared his love again. And again. Dorian counted.
He said that already. Twice. They're in the same field.
Sarah was enraptured.
She was happy. Really happy.
And she was here with him.
---
Intermission.
People stood, stretched, wandered toward the snack tables.
Danielle appeared with the guy from earlier. "Dorian! Hey! This is Mark. My boyfriend."
Mark stepped forward. His handshake was firm—a little too firm. His eyes traveled over Dorian, assessing, cataloging.
"So you're the new guy from the gym." Mark's voice was casual, but something behind it wasn't. "Danielle's mentioned you. A few times."
Danielle elbowed him. "Mark."
"What? I'm just saying." Mark smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He clapped Dorian on the shoulder—a little too hard. "Keep at it, man. We'll see what you're made of."
Dorian nodded. "Thanks."
Mark's gaze lingered for a moment longer, then he turned back to Danielle, arm sliding possessively around her waist.
Sarah whispered: "He seems... intense."
Dorian: "Yeah."
Danielle, oblivious: "You should come to our workout tomorrow morning!"
Sarah looked at Dorian. "It's no wonder you're looking so toned."
Dorian froze. "Uh. Yeah. Trying to get healthy."
Sarah smiled. "You get better looking every time I see you. It's not fair."
Dorian's cheeks warmed. "Must be the lighting."
They walked off. Mark glanced back once, eyes narrowing briefly, before disappearing into the crowd.
---
Maya appeared beside them.
"Sarah. Can I talk to you for a sec?"
Sarah blinked. "Now?"
Maya smiled. "Just a quick thing."
They walked a few feet away. Dorian couldn't hear. Maya was relaxed, gesturing casually, laughing at something. Sarah nodded along.
Then they came back. Maya waved. "See you later, spider guy." She walked off.
Dorian: "What did you guys talk about?"
Sarah: "Nothing much. Just girl stuff."
Dorian filed it away.
---
The second half of the movie was more of the same—dramatic declarations, tearful partings, a near-death experience that miraculously resolved itself. The ending was happy. The lovers embraced. The camera pulled back. The credits rolled.
Sarah was beaming. "That was perfect."
Dorian: "Yeah. Really... flowery."
She laughed and pulled him up. "You're such a guy."
They walked back slowly, hand in hand, the campus quiet around them.
Sarah: "Did you see the way he looked at her? Like she was the only person in the world. That's what I want someday. A love like that."
Dorian: "A love that nearly gets you killed multiple times?"
She elbowed him. "A love that's worth fighting for. Every girl wants that fairy tale."
"What, the big dramatic declarations? The running through airports?"
"The certainty." She looked at him. "The knowing that someone would choose you, no matter what."
Dorian's stomach tightened.
They walked in silence for a moment. The streetlights hummed overhead.
Sarah: "My mom used to read me stories like that when I was little. Princesses and princes and happily ever afters. She said I deserved a love story like that someday."
Dorian: "Your mom sounds nice."
"She is. She also says I'm too much of a romantic for my own good." Sarah laughed softly. "She's probably right."
They reached her dorm. She turned to face him, still holding his hand.
"Dorian? Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Are you happy? Like, really happy?"
He blinked. "Why are you asking that all of a sudden?"
She shrugged. "Just curious. You seem... I don't know. Sometimes you look at me like you're somewhere else. Like you're thinking about something far away." She searched his face. "Answer the question."
He hesitated. Just a fraction of a second.
"Yeah. I'm happy."
She smiled. "Good. Because I am too." She kissed him. "Goodnight."
She disappeared inside.
Dorian stood alone in the dark, the lie hanging in the air.
---
He walked back to his dorm slowly. The campus was quiet. Streetlights hummed. His footsteps echoed.
Am I happy?
He didn't know the answer.
Back in his room, he grabbed his phone. Dozens of notifications. Pictura had a red bubble: "Your post is gaining attention!"
He scrolled past it. Too tired. Opened messages instead.
Sarah: Goodnight ❤️
Tyler: Bro did you SEE Marcus with a GIRL??? I repeat. MARCUS. WITH. A. GIRL.
Lisa: Momo says woof. I think that means goodnight.
He smiled at the last one. Then caught himself.
Stop.
He set the phone down. Lay on his bed. Stared at the ceiling.
The phone buzzed. And again. And again.
He lay there, thinking about Sarah's question. About her mom's stories. About fairy tales and happy endings and whether people like him got to have those.
The phone buzzed one last time. The screen lit up in the dark.
Pictura: Your post has reached 100+ likes!
Dorian closed his eyes.
He didn't see it.
---
[END OF CHAPTER 10]
Dorian didn't look.