The dormitory where Carlo, Edward, and Max reside in, bathed in the muted glow of the moonlight, had settled into a hushed tranquility as the night wore on. Built with traditional wooden architecture, it had weathered the test of time, standing as a testament to its endurance. The corridors were narrow, lined with creaky floorboards that echoed with every step. The common room, located just outside, provided a cozy gathering space with worn-out benches and mismatched chairs. Traces of previous occupants were scattered about, from discarded books and magazines to forgotten jackets hanging on hooks.
Inside Room 201, Carlo's personal space reflected his modest lifestyle. The walls bore the marks of past decorations, now faded and peeling. A worn-out rug adorned the wooden floor, its edges frayed from years of use. The single bed, covered in a plain bedsheet, occupied the center of the room. A small desk sat against the wall, cluttered with papers, pens, and a few books. A poster of a famous artist adorned one side of the room, providing a glimpse into Carlo's artistic inspirations.
In the quiet of the night, Carlo lay on his bed, his stomach growling in protest. Hunger gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the limited provisions in their dormitory. His thoughts drifted to the delectable meals he had enjoyed back home, his taste buds yearning for a taste of familiar flavors.
Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching Carlo's room. A gentle knock resonated through the air, followed by a voice from beyond the door. "Delivery for Carlo D'Amico," the mailman announced, his voice muffled by the wooden door.
Carlo's ears perked up at the mention of his name, his curiosity piqued. With a mixture of anticipation and bewilderment, he swung open the door, revealing the mailman standing there, holding a package in his hands. "Here you go, Carlo D'Amico," the mailman repeated, his voice carrying a note of fatigue from a long day's work.
With bated breath, Carlo eagerly accepted the package, his hands trembling with anticipation. Closing his eyes for a moment, he whispered a silent blessing, hoping against hope that the box contained the food he craved. His excitement reached its peak, and with a burst of energy, he exclaimed, "Come on! Food!" as he tore into the package with reckless abandon.
However, his enthusiasm quickly waned as he uncovered the contents of the package. Instead of the savory delights he had hoped for, he found an assortment of ordinary personal items. Plates, an electric fan, nets, a basket, and various other practical objects greeted his disappointed gaze. His energy drained, and a mix of frustration and amusement washed over him. It seemed his hunger had clouded his judgment, leading to false hopes and dashed expectations.
"Really?" Carlo muttered to himself, staring at the assortment of non-edible items before him. A wry smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he realized the comical twist of fate. His hunger had clouded his judgment, leading him to anticipate a different kind of delivery.
Carlo let out a defeated sigh, his disappointment evident on his face. Despite the lack of food, he couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Leave it to his well-meaning mom to send a package filled with useful but decidedly non-edible items.
Carlo's stomach rumbled louder than ever, its growls echoing through the room. He looked at the package from his mother, his eyes filled with desperation and hunger. "Mom, I'm starving!" he exclaimed dramatically, clutching his empty stomach.
In a fit of frustration, Carlo grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a spatula. "What I want is not a spatula, but a bowl of rice!" he declared, flung it across the room as if the spatula had betrayed him.
His eyes fell upon a bottle of sauce among the items in the package. In a moment of hunger-induced confusion, Carlo grabbed the bottle and shouted, "I don't want sauce, I want noodles!" He promptly dropped the bottle to the ground, as if it had failed to fulfill his culinary desires.
As his hunger intensified, Carlo's grip on reality began to waver. "My consciousness is escaping me again!" he cried dramatically, his eyes rolling back in his head until he collapsed onto his bed, overwhelmed by the sheer force of his hunger. It was a scene worthy of a comedic tragedy.
Just as Carlo surrendered to his hunger-induced stupor, Edward and Max burst into the room, their faces filled with urgency. Edward grabbed Carlo's arm, tugging him to his feet. "Something's wrong, Carlo! Hurry up and come with us!" Edward urged, his voice laced with a sense of urgency.
Confused and disoriented, Carlo asked, "What's happening? What are we doing?" Edward's grip tightened as he forcibly dragged Carlo out of his room and into Edward's own room, labeled Room 202.
Edward flung Carlo onto his bean bag, and to Carlo's surprise, a plate of three dumplings and tomatoes sat tantalizingly on the side. Carlo's energy surged back to life as he laid eyes on the food before him. "Are those dumplings and tomatoes?" he asked eagerly, his hunger overtaking all other thoughts.
Max, who had joined the scene, chuckled and replied, "We already ate, Carlo. Those are for you. You should eat." Carlo's excitement reached its peak as he greedily devoured the dumplings, only to spit them out in shock. "Erasers?!" he exclaimed, his disappointment evident. "I just ate erasers that look like dumplings!"
Max shrugged, holding up a dumpling covered in paint. "Well, our prank didn't go quite as planned," he admitted. Edward chimed in, brandishing an eraser and a paintbrush. "Doesn't the light brown 'meat' look fake?" he teased, a mischievous grin on his face.
Carlo, still feeling the effects of hunger, defended himself. "It's not about the appearance, it's about the taste!" he protested, realizing the absurdity of the situation.
Edward tossed the eraser aside, his stomach rumbling loudly. "No use, no use. I'm so hungry!" he muttered, his hunger apparent. The three of them slumped down onto Edward's bean bag, their hunger pangs still tormenting them.
Just as their desperation reached its peak, a faint whistle cut through the dormitory's hallway. Carlo's eyes widened as he recognized the sound. "That whistle... it's Brother Romaya!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with both surprise and hope.
The three friends sprang up in unison, their faces filled with anticipation. "It's Brother Romaya!" they repeated in unison with excitement, their hunger momentarily forgotten. They rushed out of the room and found Brother Romaya standing in the hallway, carrying a sack and another on his shoulder.
Brother Romaya beamed at the sight of Carlo, Edward, and Max. "Are you guys hungry?" he asked with a serene smile, as if he already knew the answer.
Their eyes widened as they caught sight of the sack and the bundle on Brother Romaya's shoulder. "It's ham!" they exclaimed in unison, their voices filled with a mix of relief and delight. Brother Romaya nodded sagely, his calm demeanor only adding to the comedic atmosphere.
In that moment, hunger turned to elation as the three friends knew their salvation had arrived in the form of Brother Romaya and his ham.
☘
As Honey and Professor Arthur walked through the dimly lit hallways of Crescendo Art University, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The quietness of the night allowed the sounds of their footsteps to echo softly against the walls. The hallways were adorned with vibrant artwork, showcasing the talent and creativity of the students.
Arthur pointed out various rooms as they walked, giving Honey a glimpse into the different artistic disciplines within the university. "That room over there," he gestured, "is the metal room for brazing and forging. It's where students work with metal to create their sculptures." Honey's eyes widened with curiosity as she took in the sight of the metal tools and equipment neatly arranged in the room.
Continuing their tour, they entered another room. "This is the wooden sculpture room," Arthur explained. "It serves as a storage space for the wooden sculptures created by the students." Honey's gaze swept across the room, taking in the impressive collection of wooden sculptures that lined the shelves. Each piece seemed to hold a unique story within its intricate details.
Amongst the sculptures, Honey's eyes were drawn to one in particular. It stood taller than the rest, commanding attention with its grand presence. Arthur noticed her interest and approached the sculpture. "This one is Edward's work," he revealed, switching on the lights to illuminate the room further.
As the lights flickered to life, Honey gasped in awe. Before her stood a magnificent wooden sculpture that resembled a coral reef, complete with delicate clams and shells scattered below. The level of detail and craftsmanship left Honey speechless. Her eyes danced with wonder as she examined every curve and texture, captivated by the artistry displayed before her.
Arthur smiled warmly, seeing the effect the sculpture had on Honey. "Edward Hayes, the artist behind this masterpiece, is usually known for his playful nature and witty jokes," he remarked. "But when he puts his efforts into his work, the results are truly inspiring." Arthur's eyes sparkled with admiration as he spoke about Edward's dedication to his craft.
He continued, a hint of concern in his voice, "However, Edward's constant carelessness can sometimes hinder his progress. He has yet to find a balance between his playful side and the focused artist within him." Arthur's gaze shifted to Honey, hoping that she would take this insight to heart.
Without a second thought, Honey darted out of the room, leaving Arthur calling after her. Ignoring his calls, she rushed to the nearby laboratory, her heart racing with anticipation. In the corner of the room, she found her belongings waiting patiently – a blank canvas, her trusted paintbrush, a vibrant color palette, and an assortment of colorful poster paints.
Time seemed to stand still as Honey stared at the canvas, her mind buzzing with thoughts and emotions. She felt a surge of motivation coursing through her veins, compelling her to express herself through art. With a steady hand and a determined spirit, she dipped her paintbrush into a vivid hue and brought it to the canvas.
Stroke by stroke, color by color, Honey poured her heart and soul onto the canvas. Each movement of her paintbrush was a reflection of her thoughts, her feelings, and her innermost desires. With each brushstroke, a new layer of her creativity came to life, breathing energy and vibrancy into the once blank canvas.
As Honey painted, her mind became consumed by the process. Time seemed to fade away, leaving only her and the swirling colors on the canvas. She felt a sense of liberation, as if her spirit had found its true purpose. The world around her melted away, and in that moment, there was only the artist and her creation.
Hours passed as Honey immersed herself in the act of creation. The laboratory became a sanctuary of artistic expression, her paintbrush dancing across the canvas with newfound confidence and joy. The once silent room was now filled with the rhythmic sound of her brush against the surface, as if each stroke carried a melody of its own.
☘
In Edward's room, Carlo's eyes remained fixated on the tantalizing spread of ham laid out on the table. The ham had been skillfully cut into various shapes and sizes, from whole cuts to cubes, shredded pieces, sizzled strips, thinly sliced portions, and even roasted slices. Carlo couldn't help but marvel at the culinary masterpiece before him.
"From appetizer to dessert, a perfect full course," Carlo exclaimed, his mouth watering with anticipation. He turned to Edward with admiration. "You're amazing, Edward!"
Edward, donning a cute white apron that resembled a maid's attire, couldn't help but revel in the praise. With a proud grin, he declared, "Yes, I'm a genius when it comes to ham!"
Max, selecting a cube-sized piece of ham with his fork, chimed in with a playful smirk. "Let's be real, Edward. You just changed up the cutting and cooking styles. It's all the same ham!"
Edward, undeterred, removed his apron and eagerly plopped down on the floor next to Max. "Well, I'm digging in!" he exclaimed, signaling the start of the feast.
The three of them wasted no time, eagerly diving into the ham before them. As they took their first bites, their eyes widened in delight, and simultaneous cries of "Yummy!" escaped their mouths. The flavor of the ham danced on their taste buds, evoking sheer pleasure and satisfaction.
Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, Brother Romaya sat quietly, devouring a large whole ham with gusto. His presence added an air of mystique to the room, as if he were an otherworldly figure who had brought this culinary delight to their lives.
Unable to contain their excitement, the three of them approached Brother Romaya, their faces beaming with gratitude.Carlo, his voice brimming with genuine appreciation, spoke up first. "Brother Romaya, thank you so much for this incredible ham!" Carlo exclaimed, his eyes shining with gratitude.Brother Romaya, in his enigmatic manner, responded with profound insight.
"The food is laughing, you are all laughing, and therefore the Earth is also laughing," he declared, his words flowing like poetry.
The three of them looked at each other, awe-struck by Brother Romaya's poetic response. In unison, they exclaimed, "What a poet!"
Carlo, brimming with happiness, chimed in, "I never knew ham could be so delicious!"
They paused for a moment, taking in Brother Romaya's profound wisdom. Then, with newfound determination, Brother Romaya proclaimed, "Let us eat more."
The trio couldn't help but agree, their hearts filled with gratitude and their stomachs yearning for more. They marveled at Brother Romaya's profound love for food and his ability to bring joy to their lives with a simple ham.
☘
The night enveloped the quiet town, casting a mysterious allure over its dimly lit streets. The faint glow of streetlights danced upon the cobblestone pathways, creating intriguing patterns of shadows and light. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it a sense of tranquility and a hint of coolness.
As Evie dismounted her bike, weariness weighed heavily upon her shoulders. The disappointment of her unsuccessful search for the elusive book lingered in her eyes, casting a slight shadow on her face. She trudged along the familiar path towards her home, the soft sound of her footsteps blending with the serenade of crickets and the distant hum of the night.
Approaching the door, Evie was greeted by the sight of her father, who stood there, swaying slightly, a half-empty bottle in his hand. His alcohol-laden breath wafted in the air, filling the atmosphere with a pungent aroma.
"Where've you been, you brat?" her father slurred, his words carrying a tone of irritation.
Evie, her patience wearing thin, replied curtly, "I didn't ask you to wait for me."
Her father's eyes narrowed in disapproval as he retorted, "Doesn't hurt to call, does it?"
Evie, her exhaustion evident in her voice, snapped back, "I'm not a child anymore, Dad. I have plenty of things to take care of."
With a dismissive wave of her hand, Evie proceeded to gather her belongings from her bike, determined to retreat into the solace of her home.
But her father, oblivious to her frustrations, continued his line of questioning. "So, you don't have a man, do you?" he asked, a glimmer of curiosity and mischief in his drunken gaze.
Evie, caught off guard by the unexpected inquiry, couldn't help but deliver a quick-witted response. "If I did, I wouldn't be coming back here," she replied, her tone laced with a touch of sarcasm.
Her father, momentarily taken aback by her retort, was left speechless as Evie walked away, leaving him to contemplate her enigmatic words. He shrugged his shoulders, shrugged off the puzzlement, and took another swig from his glass, the night swallowing his perplexed thoughts.
☘
Late into the night, the ambiance in Edward's room was tranquil, with only the soft glow of the lampshade illuminating Max's workspace. Textbooks on architecture were scattered across the desk as Max diligently typed away at his thesis, his tired eyes straining to stay focused. Nearby, the remnants of their earlier ham feast lay abandoned on the floor, plates bearing the traces of their culinary indulgence.
Carlo, still awake for reasons unknown, observed Max as he massaged his tired neck. Concern etched on his face, Carlo inquired, "Hey, Max, are you okay?"
Max met Carlo's gaze and sighed deeply, fatigue evident in his eyes. "It's just that without that book, finishing my thesis feels impossible," Max confessed, his voice tinged with frustration.
Carlo nodded in understanding, his curiosity piqued by a mischievous glimmer in Max's eyes. "You've been awake this whole time, haven't you?" Max asked, a playful tone creeping into his voice.
Startled by the question, Carlo sat up abruptly. "Huh?" he responded, caught off guard by Max's teasing inquiry.
Max's smile broadened as he continued his friendly banter. "Come on, Carlo, I can tell. You've fallen for Honey at first sight, haven't you?" Max teased, his playful demeanor on full display.
Carlo's surprise turned into a brief moment of denial as he rolled over on the floor, attempting to brush off Max's insinuation. "No, it's nothing like that," Carlo insisted, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in his voice.
Max, always observant, persisted in his line of questioning. "Then why were you awake, unable to sleep? Thinking about her, perhaps?" Max prodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
Carlo conceded, his voice betraying a touch of admission. "Alright, maybe I am," he confessed, recalling his encounter with Honey by the pond earlier that day. "There was something about her, a certain air that intrigued me," he mused. "But I couldn't bring myself to talk to her today, and I wonder what her voice sounds like," Carlo pondered aloud.
Max, ever the optimist, reassured Carlo. "Don't worry, Carlo. You'll have another chance to talk to her," Max encouraged, his tone filled with playful confidence. "I'll even laugh if you can't muster the courage before we graduate," he added, lightening the mood.
Carlo chuckled at Max's jest, finding solace in the camaraderie of their friendship. He settled back onto the floor, preparing to embrace the embrace of slumber. Meanwhile, Max refocused his attention on his thesis, resuming his diligent work.
As Carlo began to drift into sleep, his hand reached into his pocket and retrieved a small item. It was the button that Honey had given him earlier. Gazing at the button, a gentle smile crept across Carlo's face, as if he held a secret treasure. In the quiet stillness of the room, he felt something stir within him—an inexplicable connection to the girl who had captured his attention. With the button nestled in his palm, Carlo allowed himself to surrender to the peaceful embrace of sleep, dreams of possibility and newfound courage guiding his restless mind.
☘
The following morning, Evie embarked on her quest once again, this time stepping into a different used bookstore that held the promise of hidden treasures. The early sunlight cast a warm glow on the shelves, illuminating the rows of books that lined the walls. Evie's heart fluttered with anticipation as she entered, her determination undeterred by the previous day's disappointment.
With a determined stride, Evie explored the aisles, her eyes scanning the spines of countless books. She encountered stacks of novels, volumes of poetry, and even ancient tomes on art history, but her focus remained unwavering.
Her search led her to a table piled high with boxes of books waiting to be sorted. Evie carefully lifted one of the boxes, placing it gently on the table, its contents a mystery yet to be unveiled. With eager anticipation, she began to untie the strings that held the books together, her fingers moving with practiced grace.
As she removed the books one by one, her excitement grew. Each volume revealed a new possibility, a potential treasure waiting to be discovered. Evie's determination paid off when, nestled between the pages of an unassuming hardcover, she finally found what she had been searching for— "Jason McCurry English Modern Architecture."
A surge of joy coursed through Evie as she clutched the book in her hands, her smile stretching from ear to ear. The morning sunlight danced upon the pages, illuminating the knowledge and inspiration within. She could hardly contain her excitement, knowing that she had succeeded in her mission.
With the precious book safely in her possession, Evie made her way to the counter, where the store owner greeted her with a knowing smile. Their eyes met, and a shared understanding passed between them— the joy of a book lover finding the missing piece to their collection.
Leaving the bookstore, Evie breathed in the crisp morning air, her heart brimming with a sense of accomplishment. With each step that carried her closer to Max, her anticipation grew. She couldn't wait to share her triumph with him, to see the smile on his face as he held the coveted book in his hands.
☘
Edward sat on a worn-out chair inside his cluttered sculpting room, savoring the taste of a pack of biscuits. The room exuded an air of creative chaos, with half-finished sculptures scattered across the floor and tools strewn about haphazardly. It was in this moment of solitude that a mysterious figure stepped into the room, interrupting Edward's peaceful reverie.
Dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, his hair meticulously styled and a neatly trimmed mustache adorning his upper lip, the man exuded an air of confidence and authority. He approached Edward with purpose, his voice carrying a tone that demanded attention.
"Great Artist Edward," the man began, his voice smooth yet authoritative, "it's time for you to cease these playful antics at the university and consider signing a contract with us. Your talent is too great to be confined within these walls."
Edward, a bemused expression on his face, looked up from his biscuits and met the man's gaze. Taking another bite, he chewed thoughtfully before responding in a casual tone, "Contracts and tactics are not my cup of tea, my good sir. I'm here to create, not to be tied down by formalities."
As the man's eyebrows furrowed in surprise and frustration, Edward absentmindedly scratched his head, his gaze drifting toward the scattered sculptures that surrounded him. Carlo and Max, hidden beneath the door of Edward's sculpting room, watched the interaction unfold with curiosity.
Carlo turned to Max, his voice hushed, "Who is that man, Max?"
Max, his eyes glinting with mischief and knowledge, leaned closer to Carlo and replied, "That is Mr.Terabori. A prominent art dealer in the industry. It seems he has set his sights on introducing Edward's work to a wider audience overseas."
Their attention refocused on the ongoing conversation as Terabori's eyes fixated on a particular sculpture, an intricate representation of a muscular figure holding a sack on one arm and another on his shoulder. Curiosity laced his words as he inquired, "Edward, does this sculpture have a name?"
Edward rose from his chair, setting his biscuit aside, and approached the sculpture with a proud grin. He stood beside it, a twinkle in his eyes, and declared, "I call it the 'Ham Moving Warrior.'"
A mix of surprise and amusement danced across Terabori's face as he pulled out a wad of cash from his briefcase. With a flourish, he extended it toward Edward, who accepted it with a mix of excitement and disbelief. Terabori's voice rang out in the room, a triumphant proclamation of "very good!"
Carlo and Max, their eyes wide with astonishment, exchanged glances. Carlo couldn't help but wonder aloud, "Why doesn't Edward consider giving up being a student? Opportunities like these seem to come knocking at his door."
Max, his gaze fixed on Edward counting the cash, chuckled softly and replied, "I don't know. I don't even understand him nor his motivations."
The room seemed to crackle with a blend of confusion and amusement. Edward, still clutching the cash in his hands, contemplated the sudden turn of events, while Carlo and Max stood in awe of the peculiar circumstances that surrounded their friend.
☘
The trio sauntered through the bustling school hallway, their banter filling the air with lightheartedness. Carlo, unable to resist the temptation, nudged Edward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Carlo playfully nudged Edward as they strolled through the lively school hallway, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hey, Edward, since you've hit the jackpot, it's only fair you treat us to a fancy lunch, don't you think?"
Max, seizing the opportunity, added with a sly grin, "Yeah, Edward, remember your grand plans for a group date with the stewardess? This could be your chance!"
Edward, pausing for a moment to contemplate their proposal, drew their anticipation. "I'll think about it," he finally responded, his tone teasing and filled with intrigue. Max's face lit up with anticipation, a victorious smile spreading across his lips.
Carlo's disappointment was evident as he muttered under his breath, "Unfair, that's what it is."
As the trio approached the campus exit, a familiar voice sliced through the air, "Max!" Carlo, caught off guard by Evie's sudden appearance, instinctively dropped to the ground in a comical defensive position, his body folding in on itself like a crumpled paper.
Evie's arrival startled Max, his eyes widening in surprise. Carlo, still crouched on the ground, mustered the courage to speak, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and old wounds resurfacing.
Unfazed by Carlo's peculiar response, Evie triumphantly presented the book that Max had been desperately seeking. Max's surprise was palpable, his jaw dropping as he struggled to comprehend the miraculous turn of events. Carlo, unable to contain his excitement, interjected with a gleeful remark.
"Isn't that the book Max has been searching high and low for?" Carlo exclaimed, unable to hide his delight.
Max, still in a state of disbelief, sputtered, "Where did you find it?" His voice carried a mix of astonishment and gratitude.
With a nonchalant shrug, Evie replied, "I stumbled upon it at the bookstore near the train station. It was just lying there, waiting for me."
Max's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. "That's impossible," he murmured, struggling to comprehend the extraordinary stroke of luck.
Carlo, seizing the opportunity to playfully tease Max, gestured towards Evie with a mischievous grin. "Well, Max, it seems like Evelyn has come to your rescue." he said, a twinkle in his eye.
Edward, always quick to join in the banter, couldn't resist the opportunity to add fuel to the fire. He smirked at Max and quipped, "Indeed. Perhaps give Evelyn a hug, Max? It's a gesture of gratitude that is the least you could do."
Evie's annoyance flared, her determination clear as she assumed a defensive stance, ready to unleash her roundhouse kick. However, before her foot connected with its intended target, Edward sprang into action, deftly evading her strike. In an unfortunate twist of fate, Carlo, who had inadvertently positioned himself in harm's way, became the recipient of Evie's unintentional blow, his head colliding with a nearby garbage can.
Carlo winced in pain, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "Can't a guy catch a break around here?" he cried out, a comical combination of anguish and exasperation in his voice.
"Thanks." Max expressed his gratitude to Evie for finding the book he had been searching for. With anticipation in his eyes, he reached out to take the book from her, but Evie skillfully evade his grasp, teasing him about the reward she desired in return.
"Who said I was giving it to you for free?" Evie said playfully, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'll give you the book on one condition. Take me out for some delicious Italian food tonight."
Max chuckled, enjoying Evie's playful banter. "Alright, you've got yourself a deal," he said with a smile. Evie's eyes widened in surprise and delight, as if she couldn't believe her ears. It was as if a dream she had secretly harbored was coming true before her very eyes.
"Really? You're really going to keep your promise?" Evie asked, her voice filled with excitement. Max nodded, reaffirming his commitment to their dinner date. Evie's smile grew wider, and a sense of happiness enveloped her.
Edward suddenly appeared between them, injecting himself into the conversation. "Count me in too," he said with a smirk. Evie playfully responded, "It's okay if you don't want to come." Edward, never one to back down from a challenge, retorted, "One more person wouldn't hurt, right?" Laughter filled the air as the three of them enjoyed their lighthearted exchange. Carlo, who had been observing from the sidelines, finally rose to his feet, joining in on the laughter.
However, their joy was abruptly interrupted by the ringing of Max's phone. He excused himself and stepped out of the building to answer the call. Evie's happiness began to wane as she observed Max's conversation, sensing a change in the atmosphere. Edward and Carlo also turned their attention towards Evie, curious about the sudden shift in her demeanor.
"Hello?" Max greeted the caller on the other end.
["Hello? Max."] A woman's soft voice responded, and it was evident from the urgency in her tone that this was an important call.
["Max, I'm sorry to interrupt your plans,"] the woman said, her voice laced with concern. ["The construction schedule has been moved forward, so it would be great if you could come and help out. Are you free?"]
Max's voice brimmed with enthusiasm as he confirmed his availability, assuring the woman that he was up for the task. "Yes. I'll be there soon. Please wait for me," Max promised, determination evident in his voice.
As Evie watched him during the call, a realization washed over her. She understood who was on the other end, and a mixture of emotions flooded her heart.
As the call ended, Max turned to face Evie and expressed his apologies. "I'm sorry. We'll have to postpone our dinner plans for now."
Confusion filled Evie's expression as she questioned, "Huh?"
Max faces Evie with a hint of regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice filled with sincerity. "Something unexpected came up at work, and I have to go."
Carlo interjected, adding to the confusion. "Isn't today your interview?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"No, I decided not to go," Max admitted.
Evie's shock was palpable as she tightly clutched the book, her sadness intensifying. "But didn't you want to get into that class?" she asked, her voice trembling with disbelief and concern.
Max sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes. "I did, but sometimes life presents unexpected opportunities, and I need to seize them."
Evie's tears began to well up as she struggled to comprehend Max's decision. "It's okay if you don't work for a day, but you're sacrificing your future!" she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
"Sorry." Max apologizes once more and swiftly walks away, seemingly unfazed by Evie's words. She chased after him, desperately calling his name, but her cries were lost in the sound of the rain pouring down.
"Max!" Evie's voice cracked with emotion. "Wait, please!"
But Max continued to run, the distance between them growing wider with each passing step. The rain fell relentlessly, mirroring Evie's teardrops as they mingled with the downpour. As the rain poured down, Evie's tears mixed with the drops, mirroring her sorrow. She watched helplessly as Max turned and walked away, his figure fading into the distance.
An overwhelming sadness engulfed Evie as she stood there, left behind and filled with longing. Carlo and Edward observed her, their own hearts heavy with the weight of her sorrow. Carlo's mind began to churn, thoughts swirling like the rain outside the campus.
"Max had easily given up the class he had yearned for, all with just a phone call..."