The second morning of university came faster than I expected.
I woke up in my small, half-empty dorm room with sunlight leaking through the blinds. The walls were bare except for a crooked calendar I hadn't bothered fixing. My suitcase still sat in the corner, half-unpacked.
I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, letting the muffled noise of students outside filter in. Footsteps. Laughter. Doors opening and shutting. It was only the second day, and already it felt like everyone else was ahead of me.
I thought about yesterday—about the introductions, about how my voice cracked in front of the whole room, about how I muttered my name like I was apologizing for existing. And, of course, about Emily Kim.
That moment—when she spoke her name, her voice steady, her presence so unshaken—it was like she had existed in a different world from mine. She had confidence. I had… a dry throat and shaky hands.
I sighed and forced myself to get up. "Day two," I muttered under my breath. "Don't screw it up."
---
The campus looked livelier than yesterday. Clubs were setting up booths in the courtyard, loud music blasted from portable speakers, and groups of students gathered around flyers and posters. People already looked like they belonged, like they had found their circles.
Meanwhile, I walked alone, my backpack slung low, earbuds dangling but not playing anything. Just a prop so no one would bother me.
Inside the main hall, I slowed down to check the room number on my schedule. Computer Science 101. Same building as yesterday. Maybe I'd get lucky and nobody would remember the voice-crack disaster.
When I pushed the door open, the classroom was already half-full. Students laughed in clusters, sliding into their seats, trading numbers. The air buzzed with introductions, like everyone was desperate to secure their new identities before the semester truly began.
I slipped in quietly, scanning for an empty spot.
"Yo."
The voice came from my left. A tall guy with messy hair and dark circles under his eyes was waving at me. I remembered him from yesterday's introductions—Jason Lee, also Computer Science. His intro had been short, casual, like he couldn't care less.
"Hey," I muttered.
He grinned. "Sit here. Better than lurking in the corner like some NPC."
I froze for a second, then reluctantly sat next to him. Jason leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was a puzzle. "You're Jae Han, right? The dude with the legendary voice crack?"
Heat rushed to my face. "…yeah."
"Relax, man. Happens to the best of us." He smirked. "Actually, happens to losers too. Guess we'll find out which one you are."
I stared at him, unsure if he was mocking me or trying to be friendly. Probably both.
Before I could reply, the room shifted. I didn't even need to look up to know why.
Emily Kim walked in.
She carried her bag on one shoulder, hair neatly tied back, expression calm but approachable. She didn't seem to notice the ripple she caused in the atmosphere, but I did. Everyone did.
And then Michael Chen followed right behind her.
He was all confidence—broad-shouldered, clean haircut, the kind of guy who looked like he had been born popular. He greeted a few people he had apparently already befriended, then slid into the seat near Emily like it was natural.
Jason let out a low whistle beside me. "There she is. The girl half the room is already in love with. And the guy half the room wants to be."
I tried not to look, but my eyes betrayed me. Emily laughed softly at something Michael said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It was casual, nothing out of the ordinary, but to me it felt like watching a scene from a world I couldn't enter.
Jason elbowed me. "Don't even bother, man. Guys like us don't win that lottery."
I forced a laugh, pretending his words didn't sting.
---
Class began, and for the next hour, I tried to focus on the lecture, though my mind drifted every time Emily raised her hand or Michael spoke with that smooth, effortless tone.
By the time the professor dismissed us, I felt drained from simply existing.
As students packed their bags and filtered out, I bent down to shove my notebook into my backpack. That's when something small rolled across the floor and tapped against my shoe.
A pen.
I picked it up automatically, glancing around to see who dropped it. Emily knelt a few steps away, searching under her chair.
"Is this yours?" My voice came out quieter than I wanted.
She looked up, meeting my eyes for the first time. "Oh—yes, thank you."
Her smile was polite, simple, but it sent a shock through me all the same. I handed her the pen, nearly fumbling it like an idiot.
"No problem," I muttered.
She gave a small nod and turned back to her bag, already moving on. To her, it was nothing. To me, it was everything.
Jason appeared at my side as we walked out. "Wow," he said, smirking. "Heroic. You picked up a pen. Totally girlfriend material now."
I groaned. "Shut up."
But I couldn't stop replaying it in my head—the brief eye contact, the way she smiled. My heart thudded like I'd just finished a sprint.
---
By the time I made it back to my dorm, the sun was setting, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink. I dropped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling again.
It was just a pen. Just a smile.
But to me, it felt like the first crack in the shell I'd been living in.
For the first time, I wanted tomorrow to come faster.