Chereads / MARKED/owned / Chapter 12 - Chapter 12

Chapter 12 - Chapter 12

Going back to my dorm, I looked at the school website to see if there was any information on how to convert cash to my school account. Instead, I found that the trending headlines were about the omegas that were visiting their dorms . I clicked on it and saw a bunch of comments there, scrolling through a few until I saw one talking about the incident that happened earlier. There was a picture too of the class I had been in.

Schoollife101: "Brah, the male omega that's new is looking for trouble."

Lofe2kai: "I saw him talking to one of the Vagabond dorm guys."

Teastorylife: "Same, but honestly, he looked like he was getting bullied. I turned my head so fast."

Poppylickers: "Not gonna lie, if you don't know how to stay out of trouble, then whatever happens to that omega, he deserves it."

There were more comments similar to Poppylickers. Rolling my eyes, I left the page. Okay, if you're going to be making mean comments, don't have your name as Poppylicker. Looking for another page that had the information I needed, I finally found it. I set a calendar reminder to head down to the assistant's office.

The sun was setting behind the buildings as I made my way back to my dorm, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink. I was exhausted, my brain still buzzing from a long day of classes and the information I had absorbed. My backpack felt heavier than usual, reminding me again of my tiredness. I just wanted to collapse on my bed and forget about the world for a while.

Finally, I reached my dorm building and pushed through the door. The familiar scent of the room hit me, a smell that I had come to associate with my little haven. I could see the faint glow of my desk lamp spilling into the hallway.

When I stepped inside, however, my heart dropped. There, resting on my bed, was an envelope that screamed for attention. It was black with a striking red seal that looked almost regal, as if it held secrets meant for someone important. I stopped in my tracks, my mind racing. What the heck was this? Who even sends letters anymore? Feeling skeptical, I walked towards it.

I picked up the envelope gingerly, half-expecting it to explode or something. It felt heavier than a regular piece of paper should. I flipped it over, biting my lip. The seal gleamed under the light. Was this some sort of prank? Or maybe a secret admirer? I shook my head, knowing that was too absurd.

Finally, curiosity got the best of me, and I broke the seal. The paper unfolded smoothly, revealing a neatly written note in an elegant script. I read it, my brow furrowing with each line. My eyes skimmed through the message, and it was clear: I was to go to the Monarch dorm, use the elevator, press the number six, and seek out the assistant for further instructions. The letter concluded with a reminder to arrive by 4 PM. The exact words were:

"Miyo Fennster, you are to arrive at the Monarch dorm tomorrow after your classes. Use the elevator and press number 6. Head to the assistant for further instructions. Be there by 4 PM."

I blinked, reading it again. It felt more like a command than an invitation. My heart pounded in my chest as I processed the words. Monarch dorm? Why the hell did I get an invitation? I could already feel a familiar sense of dread creeping in. The last time I was there, I had ended up in a room filled with perverted alphas. I had left feeling overwhelmed, wishing I had never stepped foot inside those walls.

I frowned, my irritation bubbling. Who did they think they were, telling me what to do? This wasn't some medieval kingdom where I had to follow orders from a king or something. I ripped the letter in half, the sound of tearing paper echoing in the stillness of my room. I continued tearing it into smaller pieces, feeling a sense of satisfaction with each rip. The nerves of whoever sent this!

With a flick of my wrist, I tossed the shredded invitation into the trash can, watching it land among the remnants of my lunch and other discarded items. I felt a rush of confidence wash over me. It wouldn't be a big deal if I didn't go, right? I mean, it was the Monarch dorm, but still. I had my own life to deal with, and I wasn't about to let some mysterious letter dictate my choices.

I turned my attention to my laptop, eager to distract myself with assignments and deadlines. I opened the lid, and the screen lit up. I took a moment to collect my thoughts, pushing aside the memory of the invite and the unsettling feeling it had stirred within me. I needed to focus on my assignments; they were due soon, and procrastination had a way of creeping up on me if I let my guard down.

My fingers flew over the keyboard as I went through my courses; the familiar rhythm and typing sound calmed my racing heart. I lost myself in the world of essays and research, the stress of the invitation fading into the background.

Time slipped away as I worked, the clock ticking steadily toward the evening. Eventually, fatigue began to creep in, and I realized that I had been at it for hours. I rubbed my eyes, blinking against the screen's brightness. It was getting late, and I still had one last assignment to finish before I could call it a night. I pushed myself to complete the task, the words flowing easily as I typed, my mind focused and clear.

When I finally finished, I let out a sigh of relief, closing my laptop and leaning back in my chair. I felt accomplished, but the exhaustion hit me like a wave. I stood up and stretched, feeling the tension in my muscles release. It was time to call it a night. I shuffled to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and walked to my bed.

As I crawled into bed, the sheets felt like a warm embrace. I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would come easily. But my mind was restless, replaying the events of the day, the letter, and the comments that were said on the school webpage. Each time I thought about it, I felt annoyed and fearful. Eventually, I fell asleep.

My phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, jolting me awake. I reached for it, glancing at the screen. A message from Andy popped up: "Hey, you going to class today? I looked at the school social page."

I stared at the message, my heart racing again. Should I tell him about the invitation? Would he think I was crazy for ignoring it? I typed a quick response, trying to play it cool. "Nah, I don't really care about it. Just focusing on school stuff, but I won't be there."

As I hit send, I felt a twinge of regret. Maybe I had made the wrong choice. Maybe I should have gone, just to see what all the fuss was about. But then again, I remembered the social page, and it didn't seem that big; that thought alone was enough to ease my worries. I was not about to put myself in a situation that made me uncomfortable.

Finally, I settled in, pulling the covers up to my chin, and let sleep wash over me again. The day's events faded into the background, and I welcomed the peaceful embrace.

Morning came way too soon, the sunlight streaming through the window and pulling me from my dreams. I groaned, feeling the weight of fatigue still clinging to me. But as I sat up and rubbed my eyes, I was reminded of the invitation. I glanced over at the trash can, where the torn pieces of paper lay.

I dragged myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face to wake myself up. My stomach growled. I hadn't eaten anything all day yesterday since I had just gone back to sleep.

As I went through the motions of getting ready, I tried to shake off the feeling that I had missed something as I was getting read but forgot about it. I'm sure it's not important. I grabbed a quick breakfast that I had in the fridge; the food was delicious. My thoughts kept straying back to that letter and what it said.

Finally, I made my way to class, the campus bustling with activity. Students rushed past me, their laughter filled the air. Nobody looked at me or smiled since they didn't see what my face looked like. So I was right the post wasn't that big of a deal. Throughout the day, I struggled to focus. My mind kept drifting back to the invitation.