THYME'S POV:
Everyone has fears, and it's easy to say you can conquer them, but much harder to actually do it. My fears eat away at me, making me avoid anything related to them. For me, that means avoiding rejection.
Yes, I'm terrified of being rejected. This fear has deep roots, going all the way back to when my own parents rejected me...they didn't want me to live with them, to stay with them. I only became part of their family because my grandmother passed away. If she hadn't, I would never have had a chance to be with my biological parents.
Growing up, I faced a lot of situations where I was ignored and rejected within my own family. Because of this, I pushed myself to be the best: topping my class, becoming class president, and leading clubs. I did all these things hoping my parents would finally see my worth.
But then, an accident happened a year ago, and I lost some of my memory. I don't know what I lost, but I have a strong feeling that the missing memory is about the rejection I fear the most. I don't know what it was, but I can sense that before the accident, I said something to my parents that made them reject me yet again. My sister has never told me about it. All she says is, "It's better if you don't remember it, because you might not be able to see your parents the way you see them now."
Because I know how painful rejection is, I've never rejected anyone. If someone needs help, I always offer a hand. That's why things got complicated three months ago, the day I passed my interview to get into this university. Someone took a photo of me and posted it on the 'Uni Cute Boys Page.' Even though my photo only got 487 likes, I somehow gained a less than a hundred of admirers. And the kicker? Most of them were guys – a mix of gay, bi, pansexual, omnisexual, or just plain curious straight guys, making up about ninety percent of the total. Only a small handful, around ten percent, were girls.
It would have been fine if it were just normal attention, or if it was only about one percent of the university's student population, so I tried to ignore it. But what's worse is that these 68 admirers act like die-hard fans. Some send me flowers, some send me chocolates or snacks, and some are even actively trying to court me in person.
I want to make it clear to them that I'm not gay. I will never be attracted to guys, or to anyone, for that matter. I've already given up on love. I have to give it up because I'm too scared of rejection. I've already been rejected twice, so I can't risk my feelings being rejected or abandoned again.
I've never actually said I would reject them. The only thing I keep saying is that I "need time to think." But how long will that really solve the problem? It's been two weeks since they started courting me. There are times I've actually run away from them just to avoid talking, because I simply can't reject them. I'm too afraid of hurting their feelings.
"Thyme, stop staring at your plate like it's going to reveal the next winning lottery number." Dom's voice cut through my thoughts, jolting me back to the noisy university canteen. Lance snickered beside him, already halfway through his Pad See Ew. We were at our usual table, the one tucked away in the corner, a small island of normalcy amidst the chaotic lunch rush.
"Just thinking," I mumbled, pushing a forkful of rice around my plate. The food tasted bland, even though I knew it was my favorite chicken stir-fry with basil from the school's stall. My mind was still replaying the endless loop of my admirers, their expectant faces, and my own paralyzing fear.
"Thinking about what? Another one of your secret admirers?" Lance teased, nudging my arm.
"Speaking of which," Dom leaned forward, his eyes scanning the bustling room. "Isn't that one of them over by the Engineering group's table? But why are there Engineering students in the Science faculty's cafeteria?" His gaze settled on someone in the distance. "Yeah, that's definitely him. Looks like he's looking for you, Thyme."
Shit, I need to run away. "Sorry guys, help me hide!" Lance immediately pushed me down the table. "Thyme, crawl towards the other exit," Dom suggested. I scrambled low, following his lead.
"Thank you guys, see you later!" I was almost halfway when I heard a familiar voice talking to Dom and Lance.
"Where is Thyme? Isn't he with you guys?" Shit! That's Prasert Wongsuwan. I didn't even need to turn my head to know it was him. He's the most annoying out of my admirers because he was my schoolmate in high school and the leader of the fan club of my previous band when I was still singing.
"Ah... eh... Thyme went to the bathroom," Dom explained. I didn't have a choice; I decided to stand and run towards the exit. Luckily, he didn't notice me until I reached the exit.
"Wait, isn't that Thyme?" That's the last thing I heard before I ran as fast as I could. I needed a place to hide. The safest place was not the library or the laboratory; it was the rooftop, as it's off-limits to students.
My legs burned, but the adrenaline surged, pushing me faster. Just a little further, Thyme. Don't look back. Don't look back. I burst through the canteen doors and into the main hall. My plan was simple: get to the elevators, go up a few floors, and then make my way to the rooftop stairs. The escape route was full of turns and hard to figure out, but I knew the building's layout better than anyone.
As I rounded the corner, heading for the main elevator bank, my heart sank. My stomach twisted into a knot. There they were, a small group of them, casually loitering by the elevator doors, as if they were just waiting for their turn. But their eyes, wide and searching, confirmed my fear. They were waiting for me.
Dammit! Of course, they'd stake out the elevators. It's the most obvious route.
I immediately stopped, pressing myself against the wall, hoping the stream of students wouldn't part enough for them to spot me. My mind raced. Okay, Thyme, new plan. Elevators are a no-go. Too many of them. Too enclosed. Trapped. Definitely trapped.
I peeked around the corner. One of them, a lanky guy with bright red hair, was actually holding a small bouquet of flowers. Seriously? Flowers in the elevator? Do they think this is a romantic comedy?
Right, stairs it is. Painful, but necessary. I silently cursed my popularity, or rather, the obsessive nature of these people. Why couldn't they just take a hint? Every polite evasion, every "I need time to think," just seemed to fuel their determination. It was like I was speaking a different language.
Taking a deep breath, I subtly changed direction, angling myself towards the lesser-used stairwell at the far end of the hall. It was a longer walk, and the stairs themselves were a grueling climb, but at least it offered a chance at anonymity. As I walked, I kept my head down, pretending to be engrossed in my phone, even though my fingers were just nervously tapping the screen.
Just keep moving, Thyme. Don't draw attention. Don't make eye contact. You're invisible.
I could feel my chest tightening with each step, not from the physical exertion, but from the constant, gnawing anxiety. Would I ever be truly free of them? Would I ever just be able to walk across campus without feeling like I was being hunted? The rooftop felt like a temporary reprieve, but I knew, deep down, this wasn't a sustainable solution.
"Finally! Just a few more steps," I gasped, my lungs burning. I was really exhausted. I'd never climbed a total of six floors via staircase before, and it had been a while since I'd had proper exercise.
"Yes, I'm lucky! The rooftop is open!" I immediately went in, and no one was out there. I thought I'd spend the remaining two hours of my free time here.
The cool breeze on the rooftop was a welcome relief, a stark contrast to the stuffy stairwell and the suffocating pressure of the canteen. I took a deep, shaky breath, letting my shoulders drop. For a moment, there was just the quiet hum of the city below and the vast, open sky above. Finally, some peace.
I prayed no one would find me. My body screamed with exhaustion; another chase would surely send me spiraling. Passing out on campus was not how I envisioned my afternoon. But up here, hidden away, I could finally breathe. For now, I was safe from their relentless pursuit. I had to be.