I immersed myself in the ritual of preparation, bathing in the cascade of
lukewarm water, then donning my favorite t-shirt paired with denim jeans.
Adorning myself with familiar accessories – the necklace, rings, and stone
earrings that carried stories of forgotten moments. The mirror reflected back
at me, revealing the canvas of my face. I brushed on concealer to mask the
shadows beneath my eyes and the rouge on my cheeks, a futile attempt to
conceal the wear and tear of time. The real irony lingered in the uncertainty
of expiration dates, a dubious joke I played on myself with every application.
Locked out of my room, I descended the stairs, exhaling a sigh of relief as her
presence eluded the scene. Today, I craved no drama, no unnecessary
exchanges. Perhaps she had ventured out early with her questionable
companion. Does he truly love her? It's a question that dances on the
periphery of my thoughts, but ultimately, it's inconsequential. She, blissfully
enamored, remains blind to any subtleties.
After securing the house, I navigated the familiar path toward the main
junction. Seeking solace, I stepped into the confines of the medical shop. A
small victory awaited me – an ointment for my aching mouth, a balm for the
wounds both visible and concealed. As I exited the shop, a familiar chime
sounded on my phone, notifying me of a client's payment. A regular patron of
my freelancing services, punctual in settling dues. My foray into the world of
freelancing as a graphic designer began a few years ago, a journey born out of
online tutorials. Since then, the digital realm has been a steady source, a
lifeline of income to meet my needs and sustain a semblance of stability. With
the payment freshly tucked into my pocket, I meandered toward the quaint
café that had become my morning refuge. Opting for the humblest of
breakfast options – a simple ensemble of black tea, bread, and butter – I knew
it might be the cheapest on the menu, but it promised to appease the
relentless growl of hunger within.
Once breakfast was duly savored, I embarked on the familiar route to my
educational bastion. The institution, a mirror reflection of privilege and stereotypical academia, catered to the usual array of students. My entry into
this realm of learning came courtesy of a hard-earned scholarship, a reward
for my perfect performance in the crucible of tenth-grade exams.
As the bell tolled and the day unfolded within those hallowed halls, I couldn't
help but reflect on the weight of my education. It wasn't just a series of
lessons and exams; it was my ticket to emancipation, the sole force with the
potential to unshackle me from the constraints of circumstance. In the
sanctuary of academia, my emancipation lies solely within the realms of
education. With unyielding determination, I pour myself into my studies,
laboring tirelessly to ascend to the pinnacle of achievement. There exists no
room for the luxury of indulgence; the path ahead demands resilience and
unwavering commitment. Spoils are a privilege reserved for those with
alternate avenues, and in this pursuit of knowledge, I find my liberation. In
the bustling corridor of our classroom, I encountered my friend Kelly, her
eyes gleaming with excitement. "Hey, lovey, early as always. Guess what?
I've got news that'll make your day. Want to hear it?" Her enthusiasm was
palpable. "There's this upcoming project, and winning it means you could
snag the Trendor Scholarship. It's a golden ticket, covering not just your
tuition but all your living expenses too. Can you believe it?" First reaction:
wow. Second thought: since when did Kelly become the ambassador for
scholarships and projects? Something was definitely afoot.
"You know me too well, love. It's a partner project,and Jackson and I are
going to create something amazing, celebrate with a 'hoorey,' and maybe even
start our own epic love story. What do you think?" Her words hung in the
air, and I responded with a smile, masking my sudden bout of sadness. The
last thing I wanted was to jeopardize our friendship and make her feel
insecure. So, I smiled and laughed lightly, concealing the storm of conflicted
emotions beneath the surface. The undeniable truth is, he doesn't merit her,
nor the earnest endeavors she invests. She's worthy of so much more, yet
conveying this truth to her feels futile. In her mind, she envisions happiness
and the fulfillment of her desires in a connection with him. Do I share her optimism? Not a chance. The bell's resonant chime signaled the
commencement of class, prompting me to secure my usual spot near Kelly.
Under the tutelage of Professor James, a purveyor of biology wisdom, the
lecture unfolded. Since our initial encounter, I harbored suspicions about his
affiliation with her, and his eyes seemed to linger with a peculiar intensity
whenever our paths crossed. I maintained my stoic "nothing face," a skill
developed to shield against such observations. Amidst the watchful gazes,
another pair of eyes, Jackson's, emanated a palpable animosity. I understood
the root of his resentment—my persistent refusals. However, resilience and
adjustment were virtues he'd have to cultivate. While orchestrating a tutorial
on the nuances of a particular word, my attention shifted to a recent addition
to the class, a mysterious newcomer who had slipped under Kelly's radar.
Unusual, considering Kelly's expertise in all matters related to our class
dynamics. Positioned at the forefront, he remained a silhouette until an
unexpected twist of fate compelled him to face my direction. A subtle
acknowledgment passed between us, his eyes meeting mine for a fleeting
moment. However, it wasn't his gaze that captured my interest but the tattoo
embellishing his skin—an emblem of the enigma that had shrouded him.
A smile played on my lips, an attempt at camaraderie, though his response
was stoic, devoid of any visible emotion. It was as if I had become a mere
fragment of the background noise in his world. My gaze retreated to the pages
of my book, now scattered with the collateral damage of distraction.
Uninterested in deciphering the enigma of his expressionless countenance, I
chose to immerse myself in the lecture, surrendering to the indifference that
marked our brief encounter. He, too, redirected his focus, leaving me to
contemplate the secrets concealed within the ink of his tattoo.