To start this, he had to go back in time, to when he was a child. No, not a child - a toddler. He was a cute baby with sparkling eyes. Everyone loved him. At least, in his mind, he thought everyone loved him. He was a toddler; why would anyone hate him?
But sometimes, being a baby is not a good enough reason to be loved. Sparkling eyes - no. A cute giggle - no. Little hands reaching out - no.
He remembered the soft blankets in his crib, the smell of baby powder. He could almost hear the sound of his own babbling, trying out sounds that weren't quite words yet. The world seemed big and bright, full of colours and new things to touch.
But mixed in with these warm memories were colder ones. A door slamming shut. Angry voices from the next room. Long hours alone in his playpen, wondering why no one came when he cried.
He thought about the photos in the family album. His chubby face grinning at the camera, unaware of the tension behind the smiles of the adults around him. Was there love in those eyes looking down at him? Or just duty, or maybe even regret?
Being small and helpless didn't guarantee love. Some babies are born into warmth and affection. Others arrive in homes already full of problems, where a new life is more burden than joy.
He wondered how those early days shaped him. Did he still carry that need for approval, that fear of being left alone? Maybe understanding his start could help him make sense of where he ended up.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. The past was supposed to stay in the past, wasn't it? His relatives were far away now. They couldn't bother him anymore. At least, that's what he kept telling himself, even as he felt that familiar knot in his stomach.
And his high school classmate... He rubbed his temples, trying to ward off the memories that threatened to surface. They shouldn't still haunt him, not after all this time. But some ghosts are harder to exorcise than others.
"We were good friends at first," he murmured to the empty room. "Then something... changed."
What was it? He'd replayed those days in his mind countless times, searching for the moment it all went wrong. People might wonder about the fallout, but he was just as clueless. It was a riddle without an answer, a loose thread he couldn't stop pulling at.
"Why?" The question hung in the air, unanswered as always. It was just another piece of his complicated history, another reason to keep people at arm's length.
He sighed, pushing the thoughts away. It was easier to smile and charm his way through life than to dwell on questions he'd never resolve. But in quiet moments like this, he couldn't help but wonder how things might have been different if he'd understood what went wrong back then.
Now, it's no time to think about all that, He need to focus on the future that was lie ahead, the university life that he was waiting for for a very long time, new friends, new environment, new memory
He grabbed his bag and hauled himself out of the apartment, the door creaking a farewell. The elevator was out again, a familiar inconvenience, and he started the long trek down from the 7th floor. His footsteps echoed in the dimly lit stairwell, a lonely beat punctuated by the rhythmic flicker of old lights.
The stairs were a worn path, each chip and crack a testament to the building's age and neglect. Paint peeled off the walls like shed skin, and the air hung heavy with the scent of dust and stale dreams. But he didn't dwell on the apartment's flaws. It was a roof over his head, a place to rest his weary body and escape the relentless hum of the city below.
"Good morning," a warm voice chirped. An elderly woman stood at the bus stop, her eyes twinkling with kindness.
"Good morning," he replied, offering a practised smile. It was a mask he wore well, a shield against the world's harsh judgments.
"Are you a student? You look young," she inquired, her smile widening as she held out a candy wrapped in shimmering gold foil.
"Yes, ma'am. I study at P University," he answered, tucking the candy into his pocket.
"What do you study? I hear they have a fine medical program," she probed, her curiosity piqued.
"Music," he replied simply. As expected, a flicker of pity crossed her face.
"Such a shame. Why music? You don't need a degree for that, do you?"
Here it was again, the familiar sting of disapproval. He forced a gentle smile. "It's what I love."
"A useless thing to love," she tutted. "No one will hire..."
"I believe that's none of your business, ma'am. Have a good day." He cut her off, stepping onto the arriving bus, leaving her sputtering in his wake.
He made his way to an empty seat at the back of the bus, settling beside a woman with vibrant blue hair who wore a P University jacket. Plugging in his earphones, he turned to his music, a familiar refuge from the world's prying eyes.
A gentle poke interrupted his reverie. The woman beside him, her green eyes sparkling like moss after a rain shower, leaned closer. "Sorry to bother you, but are you a P student too?" she asked, her smile warm and inviting.
"Yes," he replied, a guarded curiosity flickering in his own eyes.
"Awesome! Me too! What's your major?"
The question hung in the air, a familiar trigger. Why did everyone ask about his major, only to shower him with pity or disdain when he answered?
"Music," he offered, his smile a carefully constructed mask.
"I'm a literature major," she chirped, her smile widening. "Music is so cool!"
He blinked, momentarily stunned. Was she sincere, or was this just another act of empty flattery? He searched her eyes for a hint of mockery, but found only genuine enthusiasm.
"Want to go in together?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. "I don't really know anyone yet."
"Sure," he replied, offering a genuine smile this time. It felt strange, unfamiliar, to let his guard down, even just a little.
"I'm Mila," she introduced herself, extending a hand.
"Enzo," he responded, taking her hand in a firm shake.
As the bus rumbled through the city streets, a comfortable rhythm settled between them. They chatted about favourite books, music that moved them, and the shared nervousness of starting a new chapter in their lives at P University. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and shared glances. Enzo found himself relaxing, the mask of indifference slipping away, replaced by genuine curiosity and a flicker of excitement.
Finally, the bus pulled up to the grand entrance of P University. The sprawling campus, with its stately buildings and lush greenery, bustled with students from all walks of life. It was a vibrant, energetic scene that filled Enzo with a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was the place where he could shed the weight of his past and embrace a brighter future.
"Let's go!" Mila's enthusiasm was infectious as she led him through the grand archway and onto campus.
A sea of upperclassmen lined the main walkway, shouting out their majors and trying to recruit new members for their clubs. The cacophony of voices disoriented him. He scanned the crowd for a familiar sign, a banner for the music department, but it was lost in the chaos. The sheer number of people, the overwhelming noise, made him dizzy.
Suddenly, a warm touch on his hand jolted him back to the present. Mila's hand was in his, her fingers intertwined with his own. The unexpected gesture sent a jolt of warmth through him, a feeling he couldn't quite place. It was a simple act, yet it held a power that surprised him.
He'd experienced fleeting touches before, brushes of skin and stolen glances. But this felt different. It was a deliberate connection, a silent declaration of companionship. For the first time in a long time, he felt seen, acknowledged, not just as a charming stranger, but as a person worthy of genuine connection
"Ah, sorry," Mila apologised with a sheepish grin. "I thought you might get lost."
"Thank you," he replied, tightening his grip on her hand slightly. The warmth of her touch was comforting in the midst of the chaos.
"Let's find your major first," Mila suggested, leading him through the crowd of students.
They circled the main square, but the music department remained hidden from view. As they rounded the corner of a stately brick building, a group of students in ripped jeans and band T-shirts caught his eye. Some were strumming guitars, others tapping out rhythms on drum pads. Some looked like they'd just stepped out of a rock band poster, while others exuded an air of effortless wealth.
"Freshman music majors?" one of them called out, spotting Enzo and Mila.
"Yes," Enzo replied, his smile a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.
"Name?"
"Enzo Everhart." He watched as they rummaged through a pile of welcome packs.
"And the girl? What's your name?"
"Oh, I'm not in music," Mila explained with a wave. "Just a friend." A faint blush crept across her cheeks as she glanced at Enzo.
"Couple?" another student chimed in, a playful grin on her face.
"No, no," Mila quickly clarified, her blush deepening. "Just friends."
"Here you go," a senior said, handing Enzo a box filled with a t-shirt, a notebook, and various knick-knacks.
"Thank you," Enzo replied, a genuine smile gracing his lips. He turned to Mila. "Don't you need to find your major too?"
Mila's face flushed a deep crimson. "Ah, yeah, I should probably get going." She hesitated, then blurted out, "Can I get your number?"
Enzo recognized the look in her eyes, a mix of shyness and hopeful anticipation. He'd seen it once before, in the eyes of his high school crush. A pang of guilt mixed with intrigue surged through him. Could this be a chance to break free from his cycle of isolation and guarded emotions?
"Of course," Enzo said, taking her phone and typing in his number.
"Thanks! See you around," Mila waved as she hurried towards the literature department, leaving Enzo with a flutter of anticipation in his chest.
He turned to face the music seniors, who had been observing the exchange with amusement.
"Must be nice, huh?" the one with the green hair quipped.
"What's nice?" Enzo asked, feigning ignorance.
"Getting a girl's number on your first day of school," the senior sighed wistfully. "When I started, I didn't even have any friends." He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Well, welcome to the music department, Enzo," he said with a warm smile. "I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun here."
"Thank you," Enzo said with a smile, turning to leave. As he stepped away, he bumped into a figure rushing in the opposite direction.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going," Enzo apologised, offering his most charming smile.
"It's okay," the man replied, his blond hair catching the sunlight as he flashed a brief smile before hurrying towards the music department. A sheen of sweat glistened on his face, as if he'd been running.
Enzo continued on, box in hand, searching for a place to sit. But the campus was teeming with students, and every bench was occupied. He wandered aimlessly until he stumbled upon a secluded bench near the campus pond.
Taking a seat, he pulled out his phone and saw a message pop up on the screen:
"It's me, Mila. Are you done with your major stuff yet?"
A smile tugged at the corner of Enzo's lips. "Yes," he typed back, feeling a warmth spread through him. Perhaps this new chapter wouldn't be so lonely after all.
"Want to grab some food?" Mila's message popped up on the screen.
Enzo chuckled to himself. Why does she always seem to know what I'm thinking? he wondered, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"Sounds good," Enzo replied, a genuine smile warming his face. "Meet you out front?"
He retraced his steps towards the main entrance, weaving through the throng of eager club recruiters. It took a considerable amount of polite refusals and apologetic smiles before he finally emerged onto the quad. He spotted Mila's vibrant blue hair near the fountain and made his way towards her.
"Sorry about that," he apologised as he reached her side. "I got a bit sidetracked."
Mila flashed him a bright smile. "No worries. Club recruiters can be pretty intense."
They exited the campus together, the energy and excitement of their new surroundings buzzing in the air. As they boarded the bus, they settled into a familiar rhythm, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they discussed their first impressions of P University and their hopes for the coming semester.