I poked at the food on my tray, barely listening as my friends chatted about org applications and performance nights. Their laughter was light, easy. I wanted to reach for it. But all I could do was smile like a ghost of myself.
The ache in my chest pulsed—not heartbreak anymore, just the bruise it left.
Across the cafeteria, Kevin still watched. And Syron? He wasn't there. Not that I was looking. ...Okay, maybe I was.
I hated myself for it. But after everything, he'd been the only calm in the storm. The only one who didn't ask for details, who didn't pity me, who didn't say "I told you so."
He simply walked beside me. Quiet. Steady. Like he knew what it meant to lose and still keep walking.
"Earth to Mace," Jersey said, waving a hand in front of my face. "You're zoning out again. You okay?"
I blinked and nodded. "Yeah. Just tired."
It wasn't a lie. I was tired.
Tired of pretending. Tired of remembering. Tired of holding myself together with tape and a smile.
It was the kind of tired that lived in your bones, that no nap could fix. The kind that made you feel like even breathing took effort, like every step forward was just delaying the collapse you knew was coming. My body was here, going through the motions, but somewhere along the way, the real me had curled up in the dark and decided not to come out.
A ripple of noise broke through the cafeteria—cheers, whistles, the sharp thud of sneakers hitting tile. The air shifted instantly, like everyone had been waiting for this exact moment.
The SSC had arrived.
They didn't just walk in—they took up space. Laughing loud, tossing their bags onto tables, moving like they belonged in every square inch of the room.
And right in the center, Syron.
He was laughing at something Chad said—low and warm, like the sound had no right to exist in a room this loud.
I tried not to notice the way heads turned toward them, how half the girls at the far table were already whispering.
Jersey nudged me under the table. "Well, well, look who's here." She didn't even bother hiding the smirk, her gaze cutting straight to Syron.
I lifted my cup and sipped my juice, eyes fixed on the condensation sliding down the side. But the pull was inevitable—I looked.
And he was already looking at me.
The noise, the crowd, the smell of reheated fries—everything else faded. His gaze didn't waver, didn't flinch, like he was pinning me to my seat without even moving.
It lasted only a few seconds. But my chest felt like I'd just run the length of the court.
Then Chad followed Syron's line of sight. His grin sharpened when his eyes landed on me, and he leaned in to say something to him. Syron didn't smile this time—just blinked once, slow, before looking away, like he was forcing himself to.
I set my cup down a little too hard. "What?" I hissed when Jersey's smirk grew wider.
"Nothing," she said, way too quickly.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Syron pulling out a chair. Not at their table—closer. Too close. My stomach flipped, and it had nothing to do with the cafeteria food.
—-
It had been a month since I broke up with Kevin. I'd been avoiding all the places we used to go. Even the things we always did together—I was slowly letting them go.
Today, the moment I stepped into the classroom, chaos erupted.
"MAAAACE!" my friends screamed from across the room.
I hadn't even taken a full step when Mia launched herself at me like a monkey on caffeine.
"Damn it, you're heavy!" I groaned, trying not to fall over with her on me.
"You bitch! Why'd you cut your hair short? What a waste!" Jhay added dramatically, flipping the ends of my freshly cut bob, which now rested just above my shoulders.
"But to be fair, it looks good on you," he said, tugging gently at the tip of my hair. I smacked his hand and scowled.
Susmita threw an arm around my shoulders, laughing with us.
"Breakups and beach trips really do wonders—look at you glowing!" she said with a knowing wink. I chuckled and set my bag down on my chair.
We still had a few minutes before our professor arrived. First class of the second semester—we were officially in our third year now.
I'd somehow managed to convince Dad to let me stay in Palawan for two weeks. I still don't know how I pulled it off. One morning, I just woke up and found a plane ticket on my nightstand.
We didn't fight as much anymore. Not like before—when every conversation ended in a shouting match. I guess it's because I'd been keeping my distance. Quietly. On purpose.
When I got home, Tita Cheska was already there. And with her was a little girl—seven years old. Her name was Aruna.
Last night, I'd asked Dad if I could officially move into the condo. I wasn't sure how he took it. He didn't say much—just nodded. I still didn't like Tita Cheska, but I respected her. And I think, for now, that was enough.
Since it was the first day of classes, nothing much happened. Later, Susmita told us there'd be a General Assembly at the auditorium—mandatory for all students.
So there we were, lined up outside the massive auditorium, waiting for the other departments to finish filing in. The place could fit everyone, sure, but it was hot. Overcrowded. Claustrophobic.
I sighed, feeling the heat wrap around me like a thick, smothering blanket.
"It's so damn hot," Mia muttered behind me. I fanned myself with my hand. Jesus, I'm gonna pass out in here.
The murmur of hundreds of voices echoed off the walls, and I swear I could feel the space getting smaller, like the air was slowly being sucked out.
My fingers clenched around my phone. The noise, the heat, the tightness in my chest—it was all starting to feel like too much. And then, right on cue, something stirred behind us.
Whispers. Squeals. The kind that usually followed just one person. And I didn't even have to look to know who had walked in.
I was about to groan, but then my gaze drifted toward the entrance—and that's when I saw him.
Syron.
He was helping guide the incoming students, clipboard in hand, expression blank but sharp, like always.
I blinked. I hadn't even noticed him until now.
I turned to glance at Jhay behind me, suddenly wondering why he'd been so suspiciously quiet this whole time. And then it clicked.
I smirked the moment Jhay's eyes landed on Syron. He raised an eyebrow at me, like he was warning me not to say a word. I chuckled and shook my head.
Ahh. So that's why he'd been so quiet. His ultimate crush was right there—radiating silent authority like it was second nature.
No wonder Jhay didn't dare complain. One look from Syron and you'd shut up, no questions asked.
We waited until it was finally our turn to enter. I saw Syron's gaze flick briefly toward where I was standing... but he looked away just as fast.
Did he see me?
It was just a split-second glance, so I couldn't be sure. But my chest was starting to tighten for reasons I couldn't explain.
"Accountancy?" he asked, his tone clipped as he turned to Susmita—our class president.
"Right side," he added before stepping aside. I nodded and began walking forward.
I bit my lower lip, nerves creeping in as I trailed behind Yashina. Why was I nervous? It was just Syron. The guy who caught me crying in an elevator. The guy who said absolutely nothing after. Maybe that was exactly why.
I kept my gaze down as we filed in. I didn't dare look at him. The last time we spoke was the night I found out about Kevin. Everything after that had felt... blurred and silent.
Lost in thought, I didn't realize how close I was to Yashina until my face collided with the back of her head.
"Ow," I hissed, hand flying to my nose.
Before I could say another word, the crowd suddenly surged forward, the push strong enough to throw me off balance.
My eyes widened as I stumbled—and just when I thought I was going to hit the ground, a hand caught me firmly by the waist.
The scent hit me first. Masculine. Clean. Familiar. I looked up.
Oh no. Syron.
"Careful," he said, voice low but steady. I froze. Caught. Embarrassed beyond belief.
My heart wasn't just pounding—it was ready to burst.
Then, out of nowhere, a hand yanked me back like I'd just committed a public scandal.
"You idiot! You're embarrassing yourself!" Jhay hissed, eyes wide as he pulled me away. I practically hid behind him, mortified.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, barely audible. But I knew he heard me.
"No prob. Just be careful next time, Miss,"
Miss?