The flat was quiet—eerily so. Outside, the city pulsed with the restless energy of students moving between lectures, hostels, and gossip-filled corners. But here, inside the polished walls of Mr. Unknown's apartment, silence ruled.
The place carried the scent of money. A flat-screen TV stretched across the wall, untouched; leather couches curved neatly around a glass table; and bottles of expensive liquor glistened in the cabinet like trophies. Everything screamed of privilege, of comfort that most students could only dream of. Yet the quiet hinted at something deeper—an unease hidden beneath the perfection.
And yet, the boy who sat hunched on the couch looked anything but comfortable.
Mr. Unknown's elbows rested on his knees, fingers laced tightly together, his eyes shadowed with a weight that refused to lift. He hadn't spoken for a long time. Not since they got back. Not since her words sank in. Not since he realized that someone, someone like Racheal, could pierce his carefully built armor.
"You think you scare me? You're wrong. I won't let you control me."
The voice echoed sharp in his memory. Racheal's defiance hadn't just bruised his pride—it had unsettled him in ways he didn't want to admit. A part of him recoiled at the thought, while another, darker part, acknowledged it with intrigue.
From across the room, Gideon watched carefully. He wasn't used to seeing his friend like this. Normally, Mr. Unknown was the one in control—the one others feared, the one who laughed when people squirmed under his gaze. But right now, he looked… human. Vulnerable in a way Gideon had never seen, and it stirred something he couldn't name.
Leaning back against the armrest, Gideon finally broke the silence.
"You're unusually quiet. That girl really got under your skin, didn't she?"
Mr. Unknown's jaw tightened, but his eyes didn't lift.
Gideon smirked, trying to lighten the air. "Come on. Don't tell me Racheal Addison managed to do what half the campus couldn't—rattle you."
Still no answer.
From the far corner, the third roommate sat quietly, arms crossed. He hadn't spoken since they entered, his expression unreadable. But his silence wasn't empty—it was heavy, like a weight pressing on the room. His dark eyes moved from Gideon to Mr. Unknown, as if cataloguing every flicker of emotion, every crack in the façade.
Finally, Mr. Unknown leaned back slowly, his voice low and dangerous. "No one rattles me. No one embarrasses me. Ever."
Gideon raised a brow. "You say that, but I was there. She didn't flinch. Even when you pushed, she stood her ground. That's not normal, my guy. You're usually the storm—people scatter when they see you coming. But her? She's not scared of drowning."
The words stung more than Mr. Unknown wanted to admit. His fists clenched unconsciously. Why her? Why now? Why someone so fearless?
The silent friend finally spoke, his voice calm, smooth, almost mocking. "Maybe it's not about her being fearless. Maybe it's about you finally meeting someone who doesn't play your game."
That earned him a sharp glare, but the boy didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Think about it. People fear you because you want them to. You built that image. But she… she doesn't care about your image. She hit you where it hurts—your pride."
Gideon frowned, sensing the tension rise. "Easy, bro. Don't push it."
But the silent friend only smirked faintly, unfazed. "Admit it—you don't know what to do with her."
Mr. Unknown's teeth ground together. "What I'll do," he said slowly, deliberately, "is remind her who she's dealing with. She embarrassed me. And no one—no one—walks away from that without paying."
The room fell quiet again.
Gideon shifted uncomfortably, though he tried to keep his tone casual. "Just… don't underestimate her. There's something about Racheal. I don't know what it is, but… she's not like the rest."
Mr. Unknown didn't respond. He leaned back into the couch, eyes narrowing as his mind replayed the scene yet again.
Her steady gaze. Her bold words. Her refusal to bow.
And for the first time in years, the boy who prided himself on control wasn't sure whether he wanted revenge… or something far more dangerous.