The student union had transformed.
String lights crisscrossed the ceiling, casting warm gold over the crowd. Tables draped in dark cloths held trays of catered food. A DJ in the corner played something low and ambient, the kind of music that made people lean closer to hear each other.
Dorian stood near the entrance with Sarah, her hand in his. She was wearing a dress he hadn't seen before, something light that caught the light when she moved. On her wrist, the sunflower bracelet he'd given her caught the light too—a small gold charm, the chain thin and delicate. She was excited, her eyes bright, scanning the room like she was cataloging every detail.
"You look nervous," she said.
"I'm working."
"You're standing here holding my hand. That's not working."
He squeezed. "Multitasking."
She laughed, squeezed back. Then her smile faded slightly. "You've been weird all week. Is something going on?"
She notices everything.
"Just tired. Long days."
She studied his face. "If something was going on, you'd tell me, right?"
"Of course." He kissed her forehead. "Nothing's going on."
She nodded slowly. "Okay."
Across the room, Jenna was directing traffic with a clipboard. She spotted them, waved, then went back to work. Rachel was beside her, arranging programs on a side table. Her eyes flicked to Dorian, then away.
Jenna said something to Rachel. Rachel glanced at Dorian again, longer this time, then looked down.
Sarah noticed. "She's very... hands-on."
"She's just organized."
"Mm." Sarah's voice was light, but her grip tightened.
---
The BLIMP booth was near the back wall. Tyler stood behind a folding table draped in white, a pyramid of white cans stacked in front of him. Kyle was beside him in the SECURITY shirt, arms crossed, face blank.
Tyler was mid-pitch to a group of students. "BLIMP isn't just water. It's MINIMALIST water. For people who know what they want. The tagline: 'Let it sit on your tongue—you'll feel the difference.'"
A few people nearby giggled. Someone snickered. One girl raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
"It means you have to appreciate subtlety. You can't rush an experience like this." Tyler picked up a can, held it like a chalice. "It's all about the mouthfeel."
The snickering grew louder. The group exchanged glances.
A guy shook his head. "You're really selling this wrong, man."
"I'm selling it exactly right." Tyler set the can down with authority.
A girl picked one up, read the label, and put it back. "It's water."
"It's MINIMALIST water."
She walked away. The group followed.
Tyler watched them go, then turned to Kyle. "She'll be back. They always come back."
Kyle didn't look at him. "No one has ever come back."
Tyler's confidence faltered. "That's because they haven't fully experienced the brand yet."
Kyle said nothing.
---
A few minutes later, Tyler spotted a girl standing alone near the snack table, nursing an empty cup. He straightened his collar, puffed up his chest, and turned to Kyle.
"Yo, Kyle. Watch and learn."
He approached the girl with confidence. "Hey. You look thirsty."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You look thirsty." He leaned in slightly. "I have a very special liquid that can quench your thirst. It's premium quality, nice, and it doesn't leave any weird aftertaste."
Her eyes narrowed. "What did you just say to me?"
Tyler, oblivious to her tone, gestured toward the booth. "It's right over there. BLIMP. Premium hydration. I can give you a taste if you want."
She stared at him for a moment. Then she looked at the booth, then back at him, and her cheeks flushed.
"You could have just led with that." She turned and walked away quickly.
Tyler returned to Kyle, confused. "What happened? She seemed interested."
Kyle didn't look up. "You opened with 'you look thirsty' and then offered her your special liquid."
"I was selling water."
"You were selling something." Kyle shifted his weight. "She blushed, though. That's progress."
Dorian spotted Marcus near the snack table, holding a cup of punch, watching the crowd. He was in jeans and a dark sweater, blending like he always did. Priya was beside him, wearing a dark green dress, her hair pinned up. She was laughing at something, but her eyes were moving, searching.
She found him.
Her face lit up. She tugged Marcus's arm, started walking toward them. Marcus followed a half-step behind, his expression unreadable.
Sarah followed Dorian's gaze. "Who's that?"
"Priya. And that's Marcus."
"Your roommate Marcus?"
"Yeah."
Sarah tilted her head. "I didn't know he had a girlfriend."
"She's not—" Dorian stopped. "They're friends."
Priya reached them first. "Dorian! Hey." She hugged him—brief, warm, but her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her body pressing into his for a moment longer than a casual greeting.
She's marking territory. She doesn't even know she's doing it.
Sarah extended her hand. "Hi. I'm Sarah."
Priya took it, held it. Her eyes dropped to Sarah's wrist. "Oh, that's a pretty bracelet. Sunflower charm?"
Sarah smiled, touched the charm. "Dorian got it for me. It was a gift."
Priya's eyes flicked to Dorian, then back to Sarah. "He's got good taste." She let go, glanced at Dorian. "He's very private. Doesn't talk much about himself."
Marcus stepped forward, his eyes on Dorian. "Hey."
"Hey." Dorian's voice came out even. "How's it going?"
"Fine." Marcus pushed his glasses up his nose. His gaze moved from Dorian to Sarah to Priya, then back to Dorian.
Priya smiled at Sarah. "I love your dress. Where did you get it?"
Sarah relaxed slightly. "A shop downtown. I can send you the name."
"I'd like that." Priya's hand brushed Dorian's arm as she gestured. "He never tells me anything about his life. I have to get my information from Marcus."
Marcus said nothing.
Sarah laughed. "He's a man of mystery."
Priya's smile sharpened. "That's one word for it."
---
After Sarah excused herself to the restroom, Marcus lingered a few feet away, watching. Priya moved closer to Dorian, her voice dropping.
"You told me she was nothing." Her eyes were fixed on his face. "Why are you holding her hand like she's yours?"
Dorian kept his voice low. "She's just a fling. I'm here because I have to be. It doesn't mean anything."
She studied him. Then, slowly, she reached up and touched his face—fingers light on his jaw, almost tender. Her eyes searched his.
"You're not good at lying," she said quietly.
She let her hand fall, stepped back. Her smile returned, but it didn't reach her eyes. "But okay."
She walked back toward Marcus, who was now watching from the snack table, his cup still full, his eyes still fixed on them.
---
Jenna appeared at Dorian's elbow. "I need you."
She pulled him toward the stage before he could answer. "The lighting is off. Help me fix it."
On the stage, she adjusted a light stand, her hands brushing against his. "What's up? You look like you're about to be executed."
"Just tired."
She looked at him, her expression unreadable. "Sarah looks pretty tonight."
"She does."
"She's also been watching you like she's not sure she should let you out of her sight." Jenna tilted her head. "You guys okay?"
"Just tired," he said again.
"The girl in green—Priya? She's been looking at you all night."
"Priya is Marcus's friend."
"Marcus's friend." Jenna's voice was light, but her eyes were sharp. "That's what we're calling it?"
Before he could answer, she stepped back. "There. Lighting fixed." She touched his arm. "Go back to your girlfriend before she thinks I'm stealing you."
She walked away without looking back.
---
Kofi arrived like he'd been shot out of a cannon.
He was loud, laughing, his voice cutting through the music like a siren. A small crowd formed around him instinctively. He was telling a story, gesturing wildly, and people were laughing.
He spotted Rachel near the edge of the crowd, arranging programs. His attention shifted immediately.
He pushed through, stopped in front of her. He leaned against the table next to her, watching the crowd with her instead of facing her. His voice was low, conversational.
"You ever notice how everyone here is tryin' too hard? The loud ones, the funny ones, the ones who think they're mysterious." He shook his head. "Pathetic. You're the only one here who's not performin'. You're just... workin'. Quiet. Efficient. Like you don't even care if anyone sees."
Rachel looked at him sideways. "That's supposed to be a compliment?"
"It's an observation." He finally turned to face her. "Most people need attention. You don't. Dat's rare. Dat's... necessary."
She raised an eyebrow. "Necessary for what?"
He held her eyes. "For remindin' people that some things get done because someone actually cares." His voice softened. "And for makin' a man want to know what happens when you stop workin' for one night."
The silence between them was charged. She didn't look away.
Her cheeks flushed. "I don't even know your name."
He grinned, slow and easy. "Kofi. And you're Rachel." He said it like he'd known it all along. "Now you know mine. Means we're not strangers anymore."
She laughed, despite herself. "That's a stretch."
"Well, let's just say I'm pretty good at stretchin' tings, you get me?" He winked. "Come. Let me get you a drink. You've been workin' all night. Even necessary people need a break."
She looked at his hand. Then at her table. "I should finish—"
"Let someone else be necessary for once." His voice was light, but his eyes held hers. "Tonight, you're off duty."
She looked at his hand again. Then at his face.
She took it.
---
Sarah came back from the restroom, her smile back in place. She slid her hand into Dorian's. "Sorry. Long line."
"You okay?"
"Fine." She looked across the room, where Priya was talking to someone near the snack table. Marcus stood beside her, his cup still full, his eyes still fixed on Dorian.
"She's very friendly," Sarah said.
"Priya? She's just like that."
Sarah looked at him. "Does she know we're together?"
"Of course."
"Then why did she ask where I got my dress like she was going to buy the same one?"
Dorian's stomach tightened. "She's just being nice."
Sarah didn't answer. She squeezed his hand, but her grip was looser than before.
---
The slideshow started without warning.
The projector screen, blank all night, flickered to life. Photos of campus events cycled past—the club fair, the outdoor movie night, the spring carnival.
Dorian wasn't paying attention until he saw himself.
He and Priya at the lecture. Laughing. Her head tilted toward his, his mouth open mid-laugh. The photo hung on the screen for a beat. Two beats. Three.
The room murmured. Heads turned.
Sarah's hand went still in his.
Priya's face went pale.
Marcus stood frozen.
Jenna was already running toward the projector. "Technical difficulties! Sorry! Someone get the slideshow off—"
The photo vanished. The screen went dark.
Sarah turned to Dorian. Her voice was calm. "What was that?"
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
[END OF CHAPTER 22]
---