Startled, I stood up abruptly, tripping and falling back. I hit the desk behind me with a thud and winced. "Ah… my back."
The professor walked up to my seat, his shoes clicking on the wooden floor. "Boy, do you want to get kicked out?" he said sternly, scolding me.
I pushed myself off the desk behind me before standing up. "No, chef. I apologize. It won't happen again," I said sincerely, knowing well I shouldn't be sleeping during the lecture.
The professor sighed. "Listen, Simon, you're a good kid. You might not be an amazing student, but you're an excellent cook," he said, his tone softening a bit before adding as he walked back to his desk, "That's still not an excuse to be slacking off during the lecture."
I felt a jolt of embarrassment as the rest of the class chuckled at me. I wanted to disappear at that moment, but then the bell rang, making me sigh in relief.
"Everyone is dismissed for today. You can go," the professor told us. I packed my things hurriedly and walked to the door. I stopped at the door when I heard the professor call out from behind, "Mr. Cohen, you are not excused. I want to have a word with you."
He sounded stern, and my classmates who hadn't left yet said, "Ohhh," in unison, making me realize I was screwed.
Ten minutes later, we were in the classroom alone. Chef Tom sat me down in front of him. He took off his glasses, putting them down on his desk. I watched him anxiously as I fidgeted with my fingers. Then I saw him reach under his desk and pull out a folder. He opened it and pulled out a paper before starting to read from it.
"Simon Cohen, age nineteen, height 164cm, blood type A, natural hair is black."
I was confused about why he was reading my identification documents to me. He put down the document and looked me dead in the eyes.
"Simon, you're an average male in this society. You're introverted, shy, and easily swayed. You fear disappointing the people around you, so you keep your mouth shut."
I was more confused now but mostly hurt too, as I didn't know exactly what he was getting at. "T-thank you?" I awkwardly replied.
"That's not a compliment." He didn't waste a moment saying that, making me feel like I'd been shot. "Well, those aren't really bad traits for a person. This is a culinary university, one of the few in the world. We focus on cooking more than studies, but you can't be slacking off."
He sighed and pulled an apple from under his desk. I was confused yet again and looked at him puzzled.
"You see this apple? It looks delicious, but you don't know how it will taste." He took a big bite. "And you, Simon, have a talent for cooking. What do you think this apple tastes like?"
I looked at him baffled but then answered. "It's a red apple, but then again, the way the light reflects on its surface is way too reflective. The sound of you biting into it isn't crunchy or soft." I paused for a second. "It's a cake, not an apple."
Chef Tom smirked and showed me where he bit the apple—it was red velvet cake.
"Correct! You're dismissed."
I quickly got out of the classroom. "That was a lot," I said to myself as I walked through the hallway and outside the campus for some fresh air. Walking outside, I was blinded for a second by the sun.
"So bright," I muttered before hurriedly heading to a bench in the shade. I sat down and breathed in the fresh air, the warm breeze tenderly traveling through my hair and clothes. I felt at ease, but then I got a phone call. I reached into my pocket quickly to see who was calling me. I gazed at the screen and saw it was Ethan Park, one of my few friends. I swiped right and put the phone next to my ear.
"Hello?" I asked, hearing Ethan's cheerful voice as loud as always.
"Hey Cohen, how are you doing? Listen, my university is hosting a teachers' union for the students and even for those from other universities. Do you want to come? We can hang out."
He sounded excited about all of this, even through the phone, so I couldn't decline him.
"Yeah, sure, Ethan. When is it?"
He replied almost immediately. "Three hours from now."
I choked. "W-wh-wait, why are you telling me now then?"
I could hear him laughing from the other end. "I just remembered."
I hung up the phone and sighed. This made me frustrated and anxious, but I took a deep breath and called a taxi on my phone to take me to his university. I waited on the side of the crosswalk till it arrived, then got in. I sat in the back seat, looked out the window, but fell asleep almost immediately. My head hit the window, and I woke up, wincing from the pain.
"Cash or card?" the driver asked me.
"Card." I paid and got off before starting to walk on the sidewalk, nearly bumping into someone first thing.
"Hey, watch it!" the guy scoffed and walked away.
"Sorry." Not wanting to get in trouble, I walked away without looking back.
I didn't walk far before I got grabbed by the shoulder and turned around. It was the same guy, a lot taller than me, and he looked like he could throw me with ease. I was surprised.
"C-can I help you?"
He smirked, showing off his set of white teeth. I felt his grip tighten a bit.
"Yeah, I just wanted to apologize for bumping into you, gorgeous. Name's Brian, by the way."
"No, it's not a—" I stopped mid-sentence, my mind registering his words. He called me gorgeous. He flexed a bit, trying to show off his muscular body.
"So, what's a cute girl like you doing here all alone?" He sounded so confident, and I got cold before answering him bluntly, "I'm meeting with a friend, and I'm actually a guy."
I averted my gaze and waited for a reply. The seconds stretched on. He took his hand off my shoulder and put it on my chest.
"You are very flat." His tone carried a hint of confusion as he tried to understand the situation.
"Yeah, I know. Thank you." I started to feel awkward, but then he pulled me closer by the hand. His tone started to sound confident.
"Well, it's not a problem for me. You're short with long hair, and you look cute."
I could feel my brain burning, trying to process this situation. "Huh?"
He grabbed my chin and lifted it up slightly. "So, what do you say? Come with me, and I'll make you feel like the girl you should've been born as."
I was petrified since, if I refused him, he might beat me up or force me to go with him. Before anything escalated, Ethan called out for me from a distance.
"Sorry, but I'm not gay nor interested." I said quickly, passing toward Ethan. I felt embarrassed and anxious because of this guy, Brian. Ethan and I greeted each other with a handshake before turning to the main building of the campus and walking inside.
Inside the building, there were many blueprints of houses, buildings, and more. I was mesmerized. "I almost forgot that you study architecture."
"It's nothing, dude. Let's go now." Ethan shrugged it off as nothing.
We walked into a large hall, and there were posts everywhere, each with a professor. "Wow," I muttered before something caught my eye. There was a crowd of students all gathered at one post.
I asked with a tone of confusion, "What's up with the crowd?"
Ethan looked over and then said nonchalantly, "Oh, it's the post of Professor Andrew. He's a top architect, but he teaches designing in the university."
I was amazed to know there was such a top architect teaching at Ethan's university. This made me think about Chef Tom. But then, as if something unseen tugged at me, my attention shifted to the left. In contrast to the commotion at the center, a nearly empty post caught my eye. There, standing with an air of quiet authority, was a woman who seemed out of place yet perfectly at home. Her long, pastel brownish-white hair cascaded around her shoulders, almost glowing in the dim light. Her presence was commanding, yet there was an unsettling stillness to her. I couldn't explain why, but something about her made my heart race. I couldn't tear my eyes away, and my body froze completely, a wave of dizziness coming over me.