CHAPTER 2
The "Him" Era
The campus was quieter at night.
By 8:03 p.m., most of the loud daytime energy had dissolved into scattered laughter and distant conversations drifting through the cool air. Streetlights glowed orange against the dark sky, casting long shadows across the walkway. Crickets hummed from somewhere beyond the hedges.
Ethan walked alone.
Headphones on.
Hands buried in his hoodie pockets.
Unhurried steps.
On the outside, he looked composed. Calm. Untouched.
Inside?
Total chaos.
Okay… wait.
Buffer ratios aren't even hard. You just need to understand the question.
He frowned slightly, replaying the moment in his head.
And she definitely understood it.
There was no hesitation in her answer. No confusion.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
A beat.
His steps slowed.
She just wanted to talk to me.
He stopped walking for half a second.
"…Oh."
Then it hit him fully.
"Ohhh."
He straightened instinctively, posture shifting as realization unfolded like a dramatic soundtrack in his mind. A grin began forming at the corner of his mouth.
Well, Ethan…
Looks like working out and good genetics finally paid off.
His confidence inflated quietly.
Someone is interested in you.
He gave himself a small nod — the kind of nod CEOs give after closing a deal.
We've entered a new era.
He adjusted his hoodie like he was stepping into destiny.
The "him" era.
His reflection briefly flashed in the dark window of a nearby building. He liked what he saw.
Calm. Don't let it get to your head.
A pause.
You've been chosen.
He smirked to himself.
Behind him, headlights appeared.
A car.
Moving slowly.
Not close enough to feel threatening.
Not far enough to be irrelevant.
Its beams stretched across the pavement, faintly outlining his silhouette as he continued walking — completely unaware.
The car maintained distance.
Quiet.
Watching.
Ethan was too busy narrating his own rise to glory to notice.
He approached the dorm building, pulling out his ID card. The car slowed even more as he neared the entrance.
He swiped in.
The glass door opened with a soft click.
He stepped inside.
The door shut behind him.
Outside, across the road, the car remained parked for a few seconds longer.
Engine running.
Windows dark.
We never see who's inside.
Then—
The headlights turn off.
And the night swallows everything.
Ethan walked down the dorm corridor slowly, still replaying the moment in his head.
He pushed open the dorm door.
Then stopped.
Hero. Shalom. Jason.
All three of them were sitting cross-legged on the floor in a perfect circle.
Serious faces.
Straight backs.
Hands resting on their knees like monks preparing for meditation.
They looked absurdly composed.
Like world leaders about to sign a peace treaty.
Above them, Evan Kremer sat on the top bunk.
Perfectly still.
Watching.
Not blinking.
Not speaking.
Just observing like a silent judge overseeing the proceedings.
The room was completely quiet.
Ethan slowly closed the door behind him.
He sighed deeply.
"Ahhh… not this again," he muttered. "I'm tired of these arguments."
Jason slowly turned his head toward him.
Cleared his throat.
Dead serious.
"So… we are gathered here today…"
Shalom nodded solemnly.
"…for the seventy-fourth official debate since this topic was first introduced."
Hero folded his hands together like a philosopher preparing to deliver a lecture.
Jason raised one finger dramatically.
"Big booty Latinas… or big titty Asians."
Silence filled the room.
Jason lowered his hand.
"Let the debate begin."
Ethan dropped his backpack on the floor.
"You people seriously need jobs."
No one acknowledged him.
The summit continued.
Hero adjusted his glasses slowly.
"I'll begin."
Shalom folded his arms, already looking annoyed.
Hero sat up straighter.
"Statistically speaking…"
He paused like a professor setting up a complicated argument.
"Asian women tend to align more closely with discipline, structure, and long-term partnership value."
Shalom squinted at him.
Hero continued calmly.
"And furthermore… breasts possess structural integrity."
Jason nodded slowly, pretending to understand.
"They defy gravity in ways that command respect," Hero finished confidently.
He gestured vaguely in front of his chest.
"They are elegant. Timeless. Balanced."
Shalom leaned forward slowly.
"Balanced?"
He scoffed.
"First of all… Latinas bring passion. Energy. Culture."
He gestured dramatically with both hands.
"We're talking fire. We're talking spice. We're talking character development."
From the other side of the room, Kelvin lifted his head from his bed.
"Character development is crazy."
Shalom ignored him.
"And second of all—"
He slapped the floor for emphasis.
"Big butts are superior."
"It's physics," Shalom continued confidently. "It's comfort. It's stability. It's legacy."
Hero shook his head slowly.
"You're thinking short term."
"You're thinking flat terrain," Shalom shot back.
Breasts are classic. Refined."
"Butts are revolutionary."
"Boobs."
"Butts."
"Bo—"
"BUT—"
Jason suddenly raised both hands like a diplomat stopping a war.
"Gentlemen."
They both turned toward him.
Jason cleared his throat.
"Both are good in their own ways."
Beat.
He shrugged casually.
"Game is game."
As long as i have something to fondle
"I don't really care."
Ethan finally spoke from his bed.
"Hero… you're talking about long-term stability."
Hero nodded confidently.
"Yes."
"But you stayed up until four in the morning grinding Blood Strike and missed your eight-a.m. class."
The room went silent.
Hero froze completely.
That is irrelevant to the argument."
Ethan tilted his head slightly.
"Is it?"
He leaned back casually against the wall, watching Hero with a faint smirk.
"This man is talking about discipline after screaming 'ONE MORE MATCH' at three-thirty in the morning."
Jason completely lost it.
"He was locked in though!" he said between laughs.
Hero immediately straightened.
"We're not discussing my discipline."
"Discipline?" Ethan repeated, amused.
He leaned forward slightly.
"Bro… you told everyone you were studying rotations."
He paused.
"You meant weapon recoil patterns."
Shalom slapped his knee.
"THIS YOUR STABILITY KING??"
Hero pointed at Shalom defensively.
"At least I don't change preferences every week."
Ethan slowly turned his head toward Shalom.
Locked in.
"Yeah Shalom… last week you said brunettes."
He raised a finger.
"Yesterday you said blondes."
Another finger.
"Today you're giving a TED Talk about Latinas."
Shalom stood up immediately.
"It's called growth."
Ethan shook his head.
"That's not growth."
He paused.
"That's software updates."
Ethan raised a finger.
"Oh don't get comfortable."
Hero's confidence faded slightly.
Ethan turned back to him.
"You talk about emotional intelligence…"
He tilted his head.
"But you rage-quit because someone third-partied you."
Hero's jaw tightened.
"That was tactical frustration."
And Shalom—"
Shalom stiffened immediately.
"You don't even like Latinas," Ethan continued calmly.
The room reacted instantly.
"WHAT?" Shalom barked.
"You wake up looking for conflict like it's breakfast," Ethan said.
You don't like Latinas."
He paused.
"You like chaos."
Jason leaned towards Kelvin and whispered.
"I like when he ragebaits them. It's so funny to see them getting frustrated.
Ethan shrugged.
I think you both argue about women because neither of you actually talk to women."
The room exploded.
"BRO??" Shalom shouted.
"That's unnecessary," Hero snapped.
"Is it?"
Ethan turned toward Hero calmly.
"Last text you sent was 'hey' three days ago."
Hero froze.
Ethan turned to Shalom.
"You typed 'wyd' and deleted it twice."
Shalom's jaw dropped.
"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?"
Ethan smiled.
That calm.
Annoying.
Calculated smile.
"I observe."
Then—
KNOCK.
A firm, controlled knock.
The room instantly went silent.
Another knock followed.
Hero walkers to the door and opened it.
A tall Plumpy guy stood outside.
Calm.
Well-dressed.
Composed.
Like he had rehearsed this moment in front of a mirror.
"Evening," he said.
Without waiting for permission, he stepped inside.
His eyes scanned the room slowly.
Hero.
Shalom.
Jason.
Kelvin.
Then Evan on the top bunk.
Finally, his gaze landed on Ethan.
A polite smile appeared.
"Hey buddy."
The room went quiet.
Ethan looked around slowly.
Then pointed at himself.
"…Me?"
"Yeah."
A short pause followed.
Tyler clasped his hands together calmly.
"Can we step outside? I need a quick word."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Something important."
Hero and Shalom exchanged looks immediately.
Jason sensed the tension right away.
Ethan studied Tyler up and down.
Measured him.
Then spoke.
"And you are?"
"Tyler."
The name hung in the air for a moment.
Ethan nodded slowly.
"Okay… Tyler."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Tyler gestured toward the hallway.
"Outside."
Ethan shrugged like it didn't matter.
"Sure."
The door shut behind them with a soft click.
The hallway outside was quiet—dim lights humming softly overhead, the distant echo of someone laughing somewhere down the corridor.
Tyler's posture changed the moment they were alone.
Still calm.
Still controlled.
But colder now.
"You've been talking to Claire."
Ethan blinked once.
No reaction.
"…Who?"
Tyler studied his face carefully.
"Claire."
A short pause passed.
Ethan leaned casually against the wall.
"I talk to a lot of people."
Tyler exhaled slowly through his nose.
"Let's not play dumb."
"I'm not playing anything."
Tyler stepped a little closer.
His voice stayed calm.
Measured.
"She's not your lane."
There it was.
Ethan's eyebrow lifted slightly.
"My lane?"
Tyler nodded faintly.
"Claire's used to a certain… standard."
A beat.
"You don't have that."
Ethan watched him quietly.
Tyler didn't break eye contact.
"You're flat broke."
Another pause.
"You can't even afford the lifestyle she's used to."
For the first time—
something shifted.
That one landed.
Ethan's jaw tightened just slightly.
Barely noticeable.
Tyler saw it.
"Take this as advice," he continued calmly.
Another beat.
"Try and date someone you can afford."
Silence settled between them.
Long.
Heavy.
Ethan didn't respond.
Didn't move.
Just stared at him.
Then—
The dorm door creaked open.
Slowly.
Tyler's eyes flicked toward the sound.
Shalom stepped out first.
A baseball bat rested casually on his shoulder.
Not raised.
Not swinging.
Just… there.
His face held no smile.
Behind him came Kelvin.
Brass knuckles slid onto his fingers slowly.
He wasn't raising them.
Just fitting them in place.
Jason stepped out next.
A box cutter rested in his hand.
The blade wasn't extended.
But the metal edge was visible.
Hero followed last.
Holding a pen.
Calm.
Composed.
They lined up behind Ethan.
Not crowding him.
Not aggressive.
Just… present.
Inside the doorway—
Evan leaned against the frame.
Arms crossed.
Silent.
Unblinking.
Watching everything.
The hallway suddenly felt smaller.
Tyler's gaze moved from one face to another.
Counting.
Assessing.
Shalom adjusted the bat on his shoulder and stepped forward half a pace.
"hey bro."
A pause.
"I hope we don't have any problem here."
His voice wasn't loud.
Just steady.
Kelvin spoke next, just as calm.
"We like quiet nights."
Jason flicked the blade open slightly.
Click.
Not pointing it.
Just the sound.
Hero tapped the pen lightly against his palm.
Tyler looked back at Ethan.
"You needed props?"
Ethan didn't turn around.
"I didn't call them."
Behind him, Shalom smirked faintly.
"We move on instinct."
A short pause.
Then Shalom tilted his head slightly.
His voice turned colder.
"You don't step into our space and talk down to one of us."
Silence stretched again.
Then Shalom tapped the bat lightly against the floor.
"You touch one thread…"
Tap.
"…you pull the whole fabric."
Jason added quietly,
"So choose your tone carefully."
Hero spoke last.
Calm.
Almost polite.
"We're reasonable people."
A beat passed.
"As long as you are."
Tyler processed the scene.
Five guys.
Six, if you counted the silent one in the doorway.
He was outnumbered.
He exhaled slowly.
"Relax."
A pause.
"I came to talk."
Shalom nodded once.
"Then talk."
Tyler looked back at Ethan.
Measured him again.
Then stepped back.
"We'll continue this another time."
He turned and began walking down the hallway.
No rush.
No panic.
He didn't look back.
They all go back inside.
The door shut behind them.
Immediately everyone turned toward Ethan.
Jason pointed at him.
"Who was that?"
"Yeah," Shalom added. "What was that about?"
Kelvin shook his head.
"Bro came in like a loan shark."
Hero capped his pen slowly and folded his arms.
"Explain."
Ethan walked past them without saying a word and dropped onto his bed.
Calm. Casual. Like nothing important had just happened in the hallway.
He stared at the ceiling for a second before speaking.
"Apparently… I'm broke."
There was a short pause.
Then Shalom nodded slowly.
"Yeah. We know that." 😐
The entire room nodded in quiet agreement.
Kelvin leaned back against the wall.
"This isn't news."
Jason pointed at Ethan like a news reporter announcing a headline.
"Breaking news would be if you had money."
Hero folded his arms thoughtfully.
"If you had money," he said calmly, "we'd call a press conference."
Ethan rolled his eyes.
"I'm not that broke."
Kelvin immediately started laughing.
"Bro your account balance whispers."
Shalom stretched his arms behind his head.
"Your bank app opens and apologizes."
Jason added without missing a beat,
"Your debit card sighs before transactions."
Hero adjusted his glasses.
"Last week you calculated whether you could afford to buy another charger."
"That was strategy," Ethan argued.
"That was poverty," Kelvin replied instantly.
Shalom shook his head.
"You once refreshed your banking app hoping for miracles."
Ethan sat up slightly.
"Everybody does that."
Hero stared at him.
"Not daily."
Kelvin walked closer, pointing at him.
"Didn't you say, 'Let me check if money has entered' like money walks in by itself?"
The room burst into laughter.
Ethan tried to keep a straight face but failed.
"Okay first of all—"
Jason cut him off.
"You once transferred $47 and watched it leave like a funeral."
Hero nodded.
"You track debit alerts emotionally."
Shalom pointed dramatically.
"When your phone vibrates you pray it's credit."
Kelvin deepened his voice theatrically.
"Maybe someone mistakenly sent me $150."
Ethan covered his face.
"You people are sick."
Hero shrugged.
"No. You're broke."
The room quieted slightly.
Ethan sighed and leaned back again.
"Well… that whole crap was about a girl."
That got everyone's attention.
Kelvin straightened.
"Ah."
Jason leaned forward.
"Now we're listening."
Shalom tilted his head.
"So that guy came here because of a girl?"
Ethan nodded slowly.
"One of my course mates met her earlier today after classes."
He shrugged.
"We just talked. Nothing crazy."
Kelvin crossed his arms.
"Name?"
Ethan hesitated slightly.
"…Claire."
The room went quiet.
They exchanged looks.
Blank.
Jason frowned.
"Who?"
Shalom shook his head.
"Never heard of her."
Hero spoke like an investigator.
"Description."
Ethan suddenly sat up.
Serious now.
"She's—"
He paused, searching for the right word.
"She's actually ridiculous."
Shalom squinted.
"Ridiculous how?"
Ethan started gesturing with his hands.
"Like… calm. Soft voice. But sharp. Smart. Not loud-smart. Quiet-smart."
Hero nodded approvingly.
"Dangerous combination."
"Exactly."
Kelvin smirked.
"You're gone."
Ethan ignored him.
"And her smile—"
He stopped again.
"Bro."
Shalom groaned immediately.
"Oh nah."
"I'm telling you."
Hero folded his arms.
"Continue your testimony."
Ethan leaned forward slightly.
"When she smiles, she tilts her head a little."
Without realizing it, he mimicked the movement.
Shalom pointed at him.
"He studied it."
Kelvin laughed.
"Bro did research."
Ethan kept going.
"And her eyes are like—"
He struggled to explain.
"Not just pretty. They're… intentional."
The room went quiet for half a second.
Then Jason shook his head.
"He's finished."
Shalom nodded.
"Cooked."
Kelvin added,
"Marinated."
Ethan ignored them and laid back down again, hands behind his head.
He stared at the ceiling.
"You ever meet someone and immediately think…"
He paused.
Then finished the sentence calmly.
"Yeah. That's my wife."
The room exploded.
"WHAT??" Shalom shouted.
Kelvin grabbed a pillow.
"BRO!"
Jason nearly fell off the chair laughing.
"IT'S BEEN ONE DAY."
Shalom pointed at him dramatically.
"You say that about every pretty girl that interacts with you—even if it's for a millisecond!"
Jason stared at Ethan like he had just witnessed a man lose his mind in real time.
"You don't even know her middle name."
Hero slowly shook his head, leaning back against the wall with the calm disappointment of someone watching a disaster unfold.
"He's planning a reception already."
Ethan ignored them both.
"I'm just saying."
He paused like a man making a life decision.
"Two kids. Maybe three."
Shalom didn't even hesitate. He grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it across the room.
"THREE??"
Kelvin pointed at Ethan like he had just discovered a new species.
"He skipped dating entirely."
Jason nodded in agreement.
"Bro already paying imaginary school fees."
Ethan sat up on his bed again, looking completely serious.
Well any ways back to the subject "I'm not going to compete with that Tyler dude."
Ethan shrugged.
"If she likes him, cool."
He paused, then a small smirk formed on his face.
"But if she doesn't…"
He leaned back casually.
"That's even better."
Hero studied him for a moment like a scientist observing a strange specimen.
"So let me get this straight," he said slowly. "He came to intimidate you…"
He paused.
"Over a conversation?"
Ethan nodded.
"Yeah. Looks like it."
Kelvin burst out laughing.
"That cubby looking dude??"
Jason immediately joined him.
"Bro built like a stressed accountant."
Hero nodded thoughtfully.
"With the personality of unseasoned chicken."
Shalom wiped imaginary tears from his eyes.
"And he tried to intimidate you??"
Kelvin shook his head.
"With that haircut??"
Jason leaned forward with a grin.
"I swear he smells like expensive cologne trying to fight body odor."
There was a brief pause.
Shalom suddenly sat up.
"Lowkey though… didn't he smell weird?"
Kelvin immediately pointed at him.
"BRO I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST ME."
Hero smirked.
"Confidence without character is wild."
Jason suddenly froze.
"WAIT."
Everyone looked at him.
He slowly turned toward Ethan.
"Does she know you're financially unstable?"
The pillow Ethan threw this time nearly knocked Jason off the bed.
"Shut up!"
Kelvin leaned forward immediately.
"Nah this is important."
Shalom nodded seriously.
"Critical information."
Hero folded his arms.
"Legally she deserves to know."
Jason continued like a man presenting evidence in court.
"Imagine you take her on a date and open the menu like you're reading hospital bills."
Kelvin added instantly.
"Bro scanning prices like a barcode scanner."
Shalom jumped in.
"Calculating tax, service charge, and emotional damage."
Hero spoke calmly.
"You'd order water and say you're hydrating responsibly."
Kelvin raised a finger.
"Sparkling water too expensive."
He leaned back dramatically.
"So you downgrade to tap water with ambition."
The room exploded with laughter.
Jason wiped tears from his eyes.
"Imagine she says 'order anything you want.'"
He paused.
"And you say 'I'm still full from yesterday.'"
Kelvin slapped the mattress laughing.
"Bro stretching hunger across multiple days."
"Financial fasting," Shalom added.
"Romantic poverty," Hero finished.
Ethan just stared at the ceiling with a soft grin on his face.
"Her laugh was crazy though."
Shalom groaned loudly.
"Oh my God."
Kelvin pointed at Ethan.
"He's gone."
Jason nodded.
"Completely finished."
Hero added calmly,
"Mentally married."
Kelvin leaned closer to Ethan.
"Be honest."
He paused dramatically.
"Did you imagine your last name next to hers?"
Ethan hesitated.
"…Maybe."
The room exploded.
Shalom jumped up.
"HE PRACTICED THE SIGNATURE."
Jason laughed so hard he almost fell over.
"Bro already naming the kids."
Hero raised a finger.
"First born definitely Financial Recovery."
Kelvin wiped tears from his eyes.
"Second child Student Loan."
Ethan covered his face laughing.
"You people are demons."
Hero smirked.
"We're realists."
There was a small pause.
Hero leaned back again.
"Just don't start picking wedding colors tomorrow."
Ethan thought about it for a second.
"Royal blue might be—"
The pillow hit him before he could finish.
The room erupted again.
Tomorrow came by andThe pharmacy building buzzed with its usual morning chaos.
Students in white lab coats moved through the hallways like migrating birds—clusters forming, breaking, reforming again. Some clutched notebooks. Others balanced coffee sachets between their fingers like lifelines. The air carried the faint smell of disinfectant, perfume, and sleep deprivation.
Third-year energy.
Everyone knew everyone. Faces were familiar now. Gossip travelled faster than Wi-Fi. And yet the stress sat quietly underneath it all, like a ticking clock nobody wanted to acknowledge.
Ethan walked beside Chris toward the lecture hall, stretching his arms above his head as if he'd just woken from a ten-year nap.
Chris tore open a sachet of coffee with his teeth and took a sip.
Ethan exhaled dramatically.
"After today… no classes for two days."
He placed a hand over his chest like a man seeing heaven.
"TGIF."
Chris didn't even look impressed.
"You say that like we don't have lab reports due Monday."
Ethan waved the idea away.
"That's a Sunday problem."
They pushed open the lecture hall door.
Rows of students were already seated, murmuring to each other while the projector glowed at the front of the room. Pharmacology slides waited silently on the screen like an incoming threat.
Ethan stepped in and casually scanned the room—
Then stopped.
Claire sat a few rows ahead, turned slightly toward her friend as they talked quietly. A few loose strands of hair fell across her face while she listened.
Ethan blinked once.
Chris noticed Ethan had stopped walking.
He followed Ethan's line of sight.
Saw Claire.
Then slowly turned back toward Ethan with the expression of a detective who had just solved a crime.
"Ohhhh."
A beat passed.
"Don't tell me."
Ethan quickly walked forward and grabbed a seat.
"Tell you what?"
Chris sat beside him, leaning closer with a grin.
"You have a crush on her or something?"
Ethan nearly choked on air.
"What? No."
Chris raised his hands defensively.
"Relax. I could help you out, you know. Why don't you walk up and talk to her? I could be your wingman."
Ethan snapped his head toward him immediately.
"Fuck no."
Chris burst out laughing.
"Relex Why are you panicking.
"You froze mid-step."
Ethan ignored him and pulled out his notebook like a man pretending to be productive.
Then something shifted in front of them.
Claire turned around.
Her eyes met Ethan's.
A small smile formed on her face.
She lifted her hand slightly and gave him a soft wave.
For half a second, Ethan froze.
Just half.
Chris saw everything.
"Oh my God."
Ethan recovered quickly.
He raised his hand casually, gave a small nod, and returned the wave with the kind of relaxed confidence he absolutely did not feel.
"Morning."
Claire mouthed something that looked like "Good morning" before turning back around.
Chris slowly rotated his head toward Ethan.
Studying him.
"That didn't look like nothing."
Ethan shrugged.
"We just talked yesterday."
Chris leaned back in his chair.
"About?"
Ethan paused.
"Nothing. You don't need to know."
But his eyes drifted forward again.
Claire adjusted her hair and looked toward the board, already focusing on the upcoming lecture.
Ethan quietly exhaled.
"Focus," he muttered to himself.
Chris grinned.
"Yeah."
A small beat.
"You're cooked."
"Shut up."
Just then the lecture hall door swung open again.
Emmanuel walked in first, already glued to his phone like his life depended on it.
"Boys listen," he said as he approached. "I just cooked something mad."
He scrolled rapidly.
Thodure,George and Goodluck followed behind him.
He shoved the screen toward them.
"I combined over 2.5, both teams to score, and one upset win. Ten odds. Trust me."
Thodure shook his head immediately.
"You said that last week."
"And it almost entered."
George snorted.
"Almost doesn't pay rent."
"Almost doesn't pay rent."
Emmanuel ignored the criticism and started sharing a booking code with nearby students.
"Who's playing? I'm not gatekeeping. Collect code."
A few people leaned over with their phones ready.
Others shook their heads like responsible adults.
Thodure raised his hands.
"I'm not doing it. Department is already stressing me. You want betting depression too?"
"Fear men," Emmanuel replied.
He reached Ethan and Chris.
"Ethan. This one is clean."
Ethan looked at the screen.
Paused.
"How much are you putting?"
"Two thousand."
Ethan thought for a second.
Then typed.
"I'll do 150 just to be safe."
Chris finally looked up from his notebook.
"You people are unserious."
"It's small money."
"That's what every addict says."
Ethan smirked.
The group settled into their seats as the conversation slowly drifted into general academic suffering.
"Lowkey this department is too stressful," Thodure said.
"Too much content," George added. "Too little sleep."
Emmanuel sighed.
"Pharmaceutics alone can finish a man."
Chris nodded.
"Wait till exam week."
Right on cue, the projector flickered.
The lecturer walked in.
The room quieted almost instantly.
Today," the lecturer began, "we'll be discussing the pathophysiology of pulmonary thromboembolism and the pharmacotherapeutic approaches involving fibrinolytics and anticoagulants."
Silence filled the room.
"When thrombi originating from deep venous structures embolize into the pulmonary arterial circulation—"
Half the class already looked lost.
One girl had fallen asleep with her head resting on her notebook.
Two guys in the back scrolled TikTok with the brightness turned down.
Someone else quietly watched football highlights under the desk.
Ethan was also on his phone.
Chris, meanwhile, was actually writing notes.
Focused.
Underlining key words.
He glanced sideways and tapped Ethan's arm.
"At least try to listen."
Ethan didn't look up.
"Come on," he whispered. "You know we don't understand anything in class."
He scrolled again.
"It's when we read after that it starts making sense."
Chris shook his head.
"That's why you'll panic Sunday night."
On the board, the lecturer wrote:
Virchow's Triad
"…systemic embolization may precipitate acute right ventricular failure—"
Half the class was mentally gone.
Claire sat halfway between listening and glancing at her phone.
Ethan lazily scrolled.
Then his phone buzzed.
A WhatsApp notification.
Unknown number.
Hello Ethan.
He frowned slightly.
Typed.
Who is this?
Three dots appeared.
Then a reply.
That's classified.
I'm from the CIA.
Ethan smirked.
Another message appeared.
We've been monitoring your activities.
You are currently under investigation for a drug-related offense.
Ethan typed calmly.
That's serious.
A pause.
What did I allegedly do?
The reply came almost instantly.
Suspicious distribution of controlled substances.
Specifically…painkillers without prescription.
Ethan exhaled through his nose, fighting a laugh.
Damn.
They finally caught me.
Another message appeared.
We've been monitoring you since yesterday.
You were seen interacting with the prime suspect.
Ethan typed again.
Haha funny.
A short pause.
But who are you actually?
The typing dots appeared again.
Then the message came.
It's Claire
He lifted his head subtly and glanced forward.
Claire sat a few rows ahead, facing the board with the calm expression of a student listening attentively to the lecture. But under the desk, her thumb moved slowly across her phone screen.
Ethan blinked once.
A small smile crept onto his face.
He looked back down at his phone and typed.
You're bored.
The reply came instantly.
Extremely.
If I hear "pathophysiology" one more time I might just drop down dead.
Another message followed quickly.
Sorry I didn't text last night. I was really tired.
As soon as I got back home I slept off immediately.
Ethan read the message once.
Then again.
He thought for a moment.
He didn't want to look eager.
He typed a response.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
It's fine.
You don't owe me a report.
Up ahead, Claire stared at the message and slowly raised an eyebrow.
Her fingers moved again.
Hmm.
So you're still putting on this calm and composed act?
Another message followed.
How cute.
Ethan almost dropped his phone.
He glanced forward.
Claire was biting the inside of her lip, clearly trying not to laugh while pretending to look at the lecture slides.
Ethan quickly typed.
What act?
The typing dots appeared immediately.
The "I don't care" vibe.
You know you were really panicking yesterday.
Ethan's eyes widened.
He typed fast.
I was not panicking.
Instant reply.
You literally froze.
It was adorable.
Ethan exhaled sharply through his nose.
He needed to recover.
Quickly.
His fingers moved.
I was thinking.
Claire replied almost immediately.
Thinking about what?
Ethan paused.
Then typed.
If pigeons are secretly government drones.
A moment passed.
Then another message followed.
Think about it.
The typing dots appeared.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Finally—
…what?
Ethan leaned back slightly in his chair and continued.
You never see baby pigeons.
A second passed.
Then her reply arrived.
That's your argument?
Have you? Ethan typed.
There was a pause.
Then Claire turned slightly in her seat and glanced back at him with a look that said this man is actually insane.
She shook her head slowly before looking back at the board.
His phone buzzed again.
You are low-key insane.
Ethan replied.
You asked.
Her next message came quickly.
No I didn't ask for conspiracy theories from a sleep-deprived pharmacy student.
Ethan smirked.
That sounds like something a government agent would say.
A pause.
Then—
You're actually strange.
A beat.
Like clinically.
Ethan raised an eyebrow at the message.
Then typed.
And yet you texted me.
The typing dots appeared.
Paused.
Then—
Fair point.
Another message followed.
Anyway.
Ethan's posture straightened slightly.
Tomorrow.
4pm.
Rooftop café near City Center.
Another message appeared.
Don't be weird.
Then one more.
You are really funny when you're not putting on your nonchalant mask. Just be yourself. I prefer this side of you.
Ethan stared at that last line for a moment.
Then typed slowly.
I am not putting on a mask.
The typing dots appeared almost instantly.
Pause.
Then—
Oh really?
Another message.
So the calm, mysterious, "nothing moves me" guy isn't a performance?
A beat.
Because yesterday you were two seconds away from buffering.
Ethan exhaled sharply through his nose.
His fingers moved.
I was not buffering.
Another message.
You're exaggerating.
Claire responded with a small laughing emoji.
Then her messages stopped.
The lecturer's voice filled the room again.
"…in acute pharmaceutic management, low molecular weight heparin remains first-line."
The slide on the screen changed.
PTE Practical Session – Case Review
Half the class groaned.
The next hour passed in a blur of confusion.
Students gathered around lab benches.
Case sheets spread across tables.
Everyone looked equally lost.
Ethan stared at the paper in front of him.
"What do you mean the D-dimer is elevated but the CT is clear?"
Chris rubbed his temple.
"Read the question properly."
Ethan leaned closer.
"Ohhh."
Across the room, the whiteboard filled with scribbles as the lecturer explained again.
Markers squeaked.
Students argued over answers.
The wall clock ticked forward slowly.
Sunlight shifted across the windows.
Eventually—
Evening arrived.
Students poured out of the faculty building like water escaping a broken pipe.
Groups formed instantly.
Complaints about lectures mixed with weekend plans.
Ethan walked with Chris, George, Theodore, Emmanuel, and Goodluck along the pathway.
Emmanuel checked his betting slip again.
"If this bet doesn't enter, I'm deleting the app."
George snorted.
"You say that every week."
Theodore stretched.
"I'm going home to sleep."
Chris looked at him.
"You're going home to scroll."
They laughed lightly.
As they reached the pathway split—
Ethan noticed Claire and Naomi walking toward the gate.
Claire slowed slightly when she saw him.
Naomi noticed immediately.
"I'll see you later," Naomi said, continuing ahead.
Claire stopped near Ethan.
His entire squad slowed instinctively behind him.
Watching.
Observing.
Claire looked at him calmly.
"Have you finally made a breakthrough in your pigeon investigation?"
Ethan slipped his hands into his pockets.
"Barely."
Now instead of continuing the playful energy from their texts—
He switched.
Claire waited.
Expecting more.
Nothing came.
He simply stood there.
Calm.
Guarded.
She tilted her head slightly.
"So?"
"Still gathering evidence," Ethan replied flatly.
Claire blinked.
"That's it?"
"What?"
"No dramatic theory? No government cover-up?"
Ethan shrugged lightly.
"Not in public."
Behind him, Chris and Goodluck watched like wildlife photographers documenting a rare animal interaction.
Goodluck whispered, "Why is he talking like that?"
Chris whispered back, "He's nervous."
Ethan shifted slightly.
"You heading home?"
Claire blinked again.
That was… dry.
"…Yeah."
A small pause passed.
She stepped slightly closer and lowered her voice.
"You know you're more interesting on text, right?"
That one landed.
Just slightly.
But Ethan kept his face neutral.
"Texting is low risk."
Claire raised an eyebrow.
"And this is high risk?"
A small half-smile appeared on Ethan's face.
"Depends."
"On what?"
Ethan held eye contact with her for half a second too long.
Then he looked away first.
"Whether the pigeons are watching."
Claire let out a soft laugh despite herself.
"You're ridiculous."
A small pause followed.
Then she spoke again, softer this time.
"Relax tomorrow, okay?"
Ethan nodded once.
"Yeah."
She studied him for another second.
She could see it now.
Text Ethan — sharp.
Real Ethan — guarded.
"Alright then."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"See you tomorrow."
She turned and walked toward the gate.
Ethan didn't turn immediately.
Didn't watch her leave.
He waited three seconds.
Then glanced back.
Too late.
She had already reached the gate.
Behind him—
Emmanuel's voice exploded.
"What was that??"
Chris stared at Ethan.
"Why were you talking like HR was listening?"
Ethan adjusted the strap of his bag and started walking.
"I wasn't."
"Bro," Emmanuel said, "you were giving corporate answers."
Chris mimicked him.
"'Still gathering evidence.' Who says that??"
Ethan shrugged.
"It's called composure."
Chris shook his head.
"It's called fear."
Emmanuel wiped imaginary tears from his eyes.
"Text him. In person he's buffering."
Ethan ignored them.
But his jaw tightened slightly.
Inside his head, a thought lingered quietly.
Why is it easier when she's not looking at me?
Suddenly Emmanuel grabbed Ethan's shoulders dramatically.
"Wait—but if you think about it…"
Goodluck gasped.
"Our boy… is finally becoming a man."
If it was year one Ethan he would have overheated and ran away.
Chris placed a hand over his heart.
"He's growing up."
Emmanuel sniffed loudly, pretending to cry.
"I'm really proud of you."
George began clapping slowly.
Theodore shook his head in disbelief.
"Why do I always get stuck with this kind of people?"
The dorm room door creaked open.
Ethan stepped inside and tossed his bag onto the chair without looking.
He stopped mid-step.
Hero was asleep.
Flat on his back.
Mouth slightly open. Arms spread like a man who had completely abandoned the responsibilities of consciousness. The kind of sleep that suggested his soul had temporarily left his body to explore another dimension.
Beside him, crouched like a surgeon preparing for a delicate operation, was Shalom.
Holding… eyeliner.
Kelvin stood next to him with a random makeup palette in his hands like it was illegal contraband being exchanged in a black-market deal.
Jason sat on the edge of his bed trying—and failing—not to laugh.
Ethan blinked once.
"…What are you doing?"
Kelvin slowly turned toward him with absolute seriousness.
"Art."
Shalom leaned closer and carefully dragged the eyeliner across Hero's eyelid, creating an unnecessarily dramatic wing.
Hero did not move.
Not a twitch.
Jason whispered through suppressed laughter, "Bro sleeps like he pays rent in another dimension."
Kelvin dipped a brush into the palette and started applying blush to Hero's cheeks with aggressive enthusiasm.
Ethan leaned against the wall, watching like a documentary narrator observing wildlife.
They lifted the mattress slightly.
Hero shifted.
Everyone froze instantly.
Hero scratched his chest lazily.
Then continued sleeping.
Kelvin whispered, "Green light."
They lifted the mattress again—this time higher.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Hero remained on top of it like royalty being transported through a medieval kingdom.
Ethan finally pushed himself off the wall and walked to the door.
He opened it.
"If you people get caught," he said calmly, "I don't know you."
Shalom didn't even look up.
"You live here."
"I'll deny it."
The squad slowly carried the mattress toward the door.
The mattress clipped the wall slightly.
Jason lost control and started whisper-laughing so hard his shoulders were shaking.
They shuffled through the hallway like criminals transporting a sacred artifact.
The dorm waiting room was dimly lit and quiet.
One lonely student sat in the corner with a textbook open, highlighter in hand, trying to survive the academic battlefield.
The squad entered slowly.
Carefully.
Carrying Hero and the mattress like it was holy cargo.
They placed it gently in the center of the room.
Hero remained asleep.
Still.
Peaceful.
Now wearing full glam makeup.
Kelvin adjusted the blanket around him like a hotel concierge preparing a luxury suite.
"Perfect," Shalom said proudly.
Jason pulled out his phone and snapped a picture.
The flash went off.
Everyone froze.
The student in the corner slowly lifted his head.
He stared at Hero.
A fully grown man sleeping in the middle of the waiting room with makeup and a blanket.
He stared for a moment.
Then slowly looked back down at his book.
He decided that whatever was happening here was none of his business.
Ethan stood by the doorway with his hands in his pockets, laughing quietly.
"You people are sick."
Shalom nodded proudly.
"Innovation."
Kelvin leaned closer to Hero and whispered, "Imagine he wakes up and thinks he teleported."
Ten minutes later, the dorm room door burst open.
Hero stormed inside.
Makeup smeared slightly across his face.
A blanket wrapped around his shoulders like an angry superhero cape.
"WHO."
Silence filled the room.
Every single person was trying not to laugh.
Hero walked to the mirror.
Looked at his reflection.
He froze.
A long pause passed.
"…Wow."
Slowly, he turned around.
"You violated my constitutional rights."
The room exploded.
Ethan was already lying on his bed laughing.
Shalom pointed proudly.
"Bro you looked majestic."
Kelvin nodded.
"You had aura."
Hero wiped his face aggressively.
"This is why civilization fails."
Ethan sat up, still grinning.
"At least now you have structural integrity."
Hero narrowed his eyes slowly.
"I will remember this."
He grabbed a towel and stormed toward the bathroom.
The door slammed.
For one second, the room was silent.
Then everyone burst into laughter again.
Ethan sat up slightly.
"Alt so guys—"
Nobody listened.
They were still laughing.
Ethan tried again.
"Your boy is going on a date tomorrow."
Silence.
The laughter died instantly.
Every single head in the room slowly turned toward him.
Shalom blinked.
"…What?"
Kelvin squinted.
"Say that again."
Jason pointed at Ethan.
"You?"
A pause.
"With a human?"
"Yes," Ethan said flatly. "With a human."
Kelvin stood up dramatically like a man witnessing a historical event.
"Impossible."
Shalom pointed accusingly.
"Who lost a bet?"
"Nobody lost anything."
Ethan leaned back on his bed.
"Remember that girl. Claire."
Shalom snapped his fingers.
"Ohh yeah."
A beat.
"We totally forgot about her."
Hero walked out of the bathroom wiping his face with a towel.
"Does she know she's on a date?"
Ethan threw a pillow directly at him.
"Shut up."
Claire's apartment is spacious but calm. Modern and clean.
The living room was spacious, decorated with neutral furniture and soft lighting that made the entire space feel warm despite the night outside. A large bookshelf lined one wall, filled with a mixture of novels, pharmacy textbooks, and a few decorative pieces. Indoor plants sat near the windows, their leaves catching the faint glow of the city lights beyond the glass.
The furniture was simple but clearly high quality. The decorations were minimal but carefully chosen. It was the kind of apartment that felt expensive without trying to prove it.
Down the hallway, Claire's bedroom was just as calm and organized.
Her study desk sat beside a wide window overlooking the city. Lights from distant buildings shimmered against the dark sky outside. Spread neatly across the desk were several Pharmaceutical Chemistry textbooks, highlighted notes, flashcards, and an open laptop.
Claire sat in front of the desk, leaning slightly forward as she studied. Her hair was tied loosely into a bun, a few strands escaping around her face. She wore an oversized hoodie and thin-framed glasses that rested low on her nose as she read.
Across the room, Naomi sat cross-legged on Claire's bed with a notebook and a calculator beside her.
For several seconds she stared at a complicated reaction pathway in her textbook.
Then she groaned loudly.
"Why does this synthesis pathway have six steps?"
Claire didn't even look up. She simply turned a page calmly.
"Because medicinal chemists hate students."
Naomi dropped backward onto the bed dramatically.
"I swear this course exists to punish us," she complained, staring up at the ceiling. "I miss first year when the hardest thing was balancing equations."
Claire smiled faintly.
"You were complaining then too."
Naomi sighed.
"I complained less than now.
This is just fucking Torture.
For a moment the room went quiet again.
Only the soft sounds of pages turning and the occasional scratch of Claire's pen broke the silence.
Then Naomi looked up from the bed.
She studied Claire for a moment.
"So…"
Claire kept writing.
"Hmm?"
"What's going on between you and Ethan?"
Claire's pen paused mid-sentence.
Slowly, she looked up.
"Nothing much," she said casually.
She gave a small shrug.
"We talked a bit yesterday… and today."
Naomi watched her closely.
"Hm."
A brief silence passed.
"That Ethan guy is good-looking though," Naomi added.
Claire didn't react much. She simply turned another page.
"But he always gives that… cold vibe," Naomi continued. "Like he's distant or something."
She waved her hand vaguely.
"Not exactly the easiest person to talk to."
Claire suddenly laughed softly.
Naomi frowned.
"What?"
Claire leaned back slightly in her chair.
"Maybe it's just because you don't know how to read people as well as I do."
Naomi blinked.
"Excuse me?"
Claire waved a hand quickly.
"Forget I said that."
Naomi narrowed her eyes.
"No, no."
She pushed herself up on the bed and sat upright now.
"Explain."
Claire tapped her pen lightly against the desk, thinking.
Then she shrugged.
"He's not cold."
"Really?"
"He's just… careful."
Naomi raised an eyebrow.
Claire continued casually.
"He actually thinks before he speaks."
She paused slightly.
Naomi watched her carefully.
Claire pretended to focus on her notes again.
"And he doesn't try too hard," she added.
"Try too hard?"
"You know how most guys immediately start trying to impress you?"
Naomi laughed.
"Facts."
"He doesn't do that."
Claire flipped another page.
"Half the time he even tries avoiding me during head-on encounters."
Naomi tilted her head.
"So you like mysterious men now?"
Claire shrugged.
"He's interesting."
Naomi smirked.
"Interesting."
Another quiet moment passed.
Claire continued reading her notes for a few seconds before casually adding,
"Anyway… we're grabbing something to eat tomorrow."
Naomi froze.
Then slowly sat up.
"Wait."
A beat.
"What?"
Claire looked up calmly.
"What?"
"You're going out with him?"
Claire shrugged again.
"Yeah."
Naomi stared at her like she had just witnessed a historical event.
"So you actually like that guy?"
Claire raised an eyebrow.
"What's there not to like about him?"
Naomi laughed.
"Wow."
She fell back onto the bed dramatically.
"Since our year first, guys have been fawning over you."
Claire rolled her eyes.
"And you finally decide to pick the quiet weird guy."
Claire smiled slightly.
Naomi shrugged.
"I mean… he is cute though."
Claire smirked faintly.
"He's alright."
Naomi burst into laughter.
"'Alright.'"
She pointed at Claire.
"You're done for."
Claire grabbed
a flashcard from the desk and threw it at her.
"Study."
Naomi caught it easily.
Still smiling.
The end of chapter 2.