𝐃𝐄𝐌 [𝐓.𝐊]

Taehyung, 8:00 am

With tired eyes, he sat on the plastic chair of a small restaurant inside Leeds airport. He only had to wait for the car that would take him to the university, a bit more than half an hour away. The weather was even colder than in London, the sky greyer. They weren't that far up north, but he could also notice a change in people's accents. Their custom of blending letters as they spoke or erasing them was a challenge when his neighbour wanted to speak to him on the flight. His book remained unread.

His leather briefcase was his only companion on the metal table as his things had already been shipped to his room days prior. The many boxes he would have to organize in less than a day were already exhausting to think of. He was physically strong due to his diligence with weight training, but he was mentally drained. Grief should be an old friend by now, but it felt more like a jailor.

Jungkook, 8:10 am

His heartbeat quickened the closer the car drove to Evanthe. He could see it through the windows, expanding to the west of the road leading north. From his position, the top of the cupula made of windows in one of the buildings far inside the grounds looked perfectly parallel to the centre mountain in the far northwest. He would be surrounded by ethereal beauty for the foreseeable future, but it was dawning on him that the kind of people he would share a roof with would be the same as they were in school.

He'd already taken his medicine, so he couldn't take more. The water he'd brought had almost finished in his nerves. Yet, he couldn't calm his body. There was a sheet of cold sweat on his forehead and the palms of his hands. Emotion was still present in his throat but he was sure it wouldn't stop him from returning his breakfast if his nerves got worse. The radio wasn't helping either.

He'd made the mistake of putting his earphones in one of his boxes so he'd known for a while that he would have to go the whole trip without them. A deluded part of himself hoped he wouldn't need them as the three of them would be sharing a pleasant conversation. As always, he was left mentally kicking that desperate part of himself. His parents had turned on the radio the moment they got into the black car of his father and hadn't spoken to him since. The news of odd people scaring the Londoners even as they did virtually nothing was way more important than him. London was hours away, and it was still more important than him.

The smooth ride shifted slightly as the car passed from the paved road to the old stone of the bridge. He remembered, from his brother's graduation, that it took half a song to pass the bridge. He had to focus his mind on that song again as the muscles in his stomach contracted. Bridges had always scared him for some reason.

Once on the other side, his father turned the car to the left and stopped in the line of vehicles driving in. Jungkook took his bag and took out his phone. With trembling fingers, he wrote in the group chat that he'd arrived. Emily answered quickly that they were on their way to the door. He exhaled slowly from his mouth to calm down, but it didn't go unnoticed.

He hadn't realised when they turned off the radio.

"Everything alright, son?" his father asked. Their eyes connected in the rearview mirror for a moment.

Jungkook looked away.

"Yes."

There was silence for a moment as the car moved at a glacier pace. Then, his father spoke again.

"Curfew is at ten."

"I know." He pursed his lips.

"And there is zero tolerance for fighting on the grounds," his father kept warning him, "I don't care what the reason might be."

A lecture. Amelia had a photo album of happy moments made for her, Junior had an Italian briefcase, and he had a lecture.

Glaring out the window with his heart racing, he opened his mouth again.

"Don't tell anybody I'm your son and it'll be easier that way."

"Done."

Jungkook's breathing stopped for a moment. His sight slowly got blurry as he exhaled, his shoulders relaxing as his body went numb. It was bliss not to feel, not to think; he'd find nothing good if those two continued.

The car drove on and entered the grounds. He noticed his parents waving at the guard who waved back at them with a smile and he looked down to put his empty water bottle in his bag. He hadn't noticed when he'd finished it.

"Alright, son. Here you go." He stopped the car so he could step into the walkway of the garden. "Be good."

"And have a great time." His mother turned her head lightly towards him so he could kiss her cheek. She was still smiling.

Jungkook blinked and the blissfulness was gone. They won't miss him.

He robotly kissed her cheek and shook his father's hand. Then, with nothing good to say, he stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

With only his backpack to accompany him, he felt exposed to a sea of emotional families and numerous luggage. It was the first time he saw the front garden, huge and beautiful with colourful flowers and white stoned statues, filled with people stepping on the grass. He made his way carefully through the white pebbled path, avoiding small children and luggage alike. But hearing some conversations was unavoidable.

He caught two different mothers telling their daughters to be weary of boys. A father reminding his son to try for the football team. A family already choosing when they'll have their vacation next. Two pairs of school sweethearts who were having unspoken goodbyes. And a good number of young siblings wishing to stay. For the most part in this long walk, the exchanges he witnessed were to be expected. Except for the last one.

Forced to look up for a completely different reason, the side of his left eye caught an intriguing view. Turning his head, he found two men and a guy who could be his age, all three of them had their arms crossed over their chests.

"Goodbye, Dad. Bye, uncle," the guy said in a casual tone.

"Goodbye, son," answered one of the men quite seriously.

They didn't resemble a family saying goodbye to Jungkook so he frowned slightly at the floor. As he passed behind the guy, however, he was able to hear what he said next.

"No goodbye hugs?"

Jungkook almost stumbled when he heard this taunt. The audible smirk didn't even go unnoticed and he quickened his pace, believing this guy's father would retaliate physically. But when he turned his head to look over his shoulder, he saw nothing. No more words, no raised hand, and, certainly, no hug. Jungkook's breathing was fast when he looked back down. He couldn't believe that guy had asked for something so prohibited in such a public place. If the wrong kind of person had heard him...

He could feel his body buzzing and his hands sweaty as they gripped the straps of his bag. When a small, gentle breeze passed by, he straightened up to catch it and took a lungful. The scent of damp soil helped him clear his mind. Then his shoulder was punched and he was moved out of the way of an aggressive person. Alarmed, he found the same guy from before continuing on his way remorselessly and then doing it to the next person.

It wasn't even the first day and he'd already found people who resembled his old classmates.

"Jungkook!" a girl called his name.

He looked away from the black hair of his aggressor to find Emily rushing to greet him, avoiding people on the way. Her long, red hair was bouncing as she ran, her smile infectious. He stood his ground, unfolding his arms to catch her. He tried to prepare his body for it, but she slammed against him, putting her arms around his neck and he still had to bend his knees a little so she could touch the floor, unable to hold her weight in the nervous state his body was still in.

The last time he hugged her was more than a month before when she and Leo came to his house for their annual get-together, but what a month it had been. She smelled of vanilla and the comforting fragrance of fabric softener she'd always used since they were twelve. But even though he always found any opportunity to be touched by her, he never knew how to touch her.

Awkwardly, he placed the palms of his hands between her shoulder blades and the middle of her back. He couldn't press her against him either because she always said it hurt her. But, as minimal as it could be, it was comforting nonetheless and he was grateful. She was the only female friend he had so she was the only one he could hug. The last time his mother hugged him was years ago.

Emily unfolded her arms from around his neck and he immediately let her go with a smile. Her pale blue eyes were a shade he knew so well for the amount of times he'd painted them. Movement to their left made him look up and he found his true brother standing there with a grin. His blue eyes were dark enough to be confused as black when night was closing in, his clothes were as black as his hair and his skin was so pale that the colour of his veins was visible as they bulged over his muscles.

He lifted his hand.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook dried his hand away from view and then shook Leo's.

"Leonardo," he responded in a refined way.

They fell into laughter and quickly let go of each other. That feeling, as they all smiled, filled his heart with so much happiness he had to look away. It was painful to be so hopeful.

The wind began to pick up its pace, getting faster as it passed.

"Where are your things?" Leo wondered as he looked around, confused.

"We thought you were going to bring all your books," Emily chuckled as she hugged herself around the middle.

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck.

"I wasn't allowed to bring any. And my things are already here, cuz, you know... my mom." He shrugged stiffly.

The wind was getting strong enough that the tree leaves were recreating the sound of rain all around them. He looked up at the grey sky to find the darkest cloud. It came from the north.

"Of course, your things are already here," Leo complained bitterly.

But Jungkook didn't take it to heart. Leo wasn't angry with him.

"We should get going," Emily pointed out as she hugged Leo's arm for warmth. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder.

She was going to say something else, but the sound of a honk in the distance grabbed their attention, as did many others. Jungkook turned halfway to look behind him at the place where his parents had left him. The honking came from a black cab trapped in the line of cars inside the grounds, driving at a glacier pace towards the exit by the east of the university. Emily was beginning to pity the cab driver out loud when Jungkook caught sight of a man on the other end of the white path they were standing at.

He was wearing a dark green suit and held a leather briefcase in one hand, nothing else. Jungkook wasn't able to see his features well, but he had a growing sensation in the pit of his stomach telling him that he knew the man.

As this sensation grew, the wind grew stronger. People were squinting their eyes and quickening their goodbyes. The wind was roaring with how fast it moved, and flower petals flew against people.

Emily grabbed his arm.

"Come on." She pulled him by the hand, and the three of them made their quick way towards the inside.

The moment they passed the humongous, golden double doors, Jungkook stopped in his place. He needed to take in the beauty of this entrance hall with its red curtains and carpets and white walls ornate with flowers and vines carved in white stone. Paintings hung on the walls of the hallways leading left and right with wooden frames painted gold. The crystal chandeliers elevated this image of refinement and aristocracy, making one believe he was stepping into a palace which was accommodated to be a university, but it was never that way. The University of Evanthe, founded half a millennium ago, was created for the same purpose it was used that same day. To teach.

His delighted eyes landed on the circular formation of desks where the receptionists were helping out the new arrivals, and his smile slowly disappeared. That was a lot of people they would have to go through. He could already feel the cold sweat sticking his t-shirt to his back.

Emily saw an opening and, still holding his sweaty hand, pulled him forward.

Garrett, 8:25 am

The bus had left them at the east exit of the university, so they were told to get inside through the east doors and walk their way over to the reception desks.

Enyo continued to hold his right hand; she never let him go even as he'd put their luggage away on the bus and then got it back. She'd slowly lost the numbness of the calming energy he'd given her, but he was yet to feel her getting impatient once more, which was something that kept him optimistic (and stressed). On their way to get their keys, she'd already received a fair few stares for her dark clothing and short hair, as did he for being with her. But he was mostly focused on how the environment was making her feel and whether or not so much red in the decorations around them would make her angry easily.

He also kept an eye out for the seekers located in that place. He'd been told the identities they were hiding behind and to not try to contact them if it was not strictly necessary. But they were still two family friends he hadn't seen for two years. If he saw them, however, he wouldn't talk to them with Enyo by his side. All she wanted was to be in the thick of the fight. Even if these two seekers were not seeking anymore and the hopes of them finding what they came here to get were very low, she would see them as an opportunity to get to London. But she was not allowed.

Her options were to come here and try to live a normal life away from magic or to seclude herself to a cave in the mountains until she could control her power and use it well. He was the one who got her to understand that her body was not made to handle her power and in the heat of the moment, she agreed to live a simple life with him. Now, she was angry with her own decision, but he'd expected that.

She remained silent until they got to the entrance hall and saw the amount of people they would have to pass to get to the front desk. Then, she exhaled slowly and loud enough for him to hear. She hated crowds.

He left her somewhere to the side with their bags and took both of their fake IDs. As he waited in line for one of the tables, his eyes wandered around the place and landed on noticeably stressed people. Garrett tilted his head as he stopped looking at them. He couldn't worry about every single stranger he met, he had to remember that. When the line moved, he moved with it and continued to look around curiously. This time, his eyes landed on one of the people who stepped inside the hall through the grand doors.

This one wore a dark green suit, and his hair was windswept after being outside. Without needing to focus his vision or permeate his aura, Garrett could feel the difference in the room when he stepped in. It reminded him of Luz's energy when he was calm.

This train of thought caused him to check up on Eny,o only to find her holding her legs close to her chest as she sat on the floor next to the bags. He almost chuckled; she looked like another bag like that. But then his attention was swayed by a female voice.

"Hello and welcome to Evanthe."

He turned his head to look at the receptionist and found that it was his turn. Quickly, he stepped closer to the desk.

"Hi."

"Can I know your name, please?" The woman waited with her fingers over the keyboard, ready to type his name.

So he gave her his birth name, Garrett White, and Enyo's fake name, Alex Archer.

Taehyung, 8:30 am

Getting to his room was easy. The corridors were nearly deserted to the east side of the university as he made his way to the Professors' Living Area. He passed the fingers of his free hand through his hair once more, hoping it would reverse what the wind had done to it. He didn't truly mind his appearance, but other people did, so he straightened the jacket of his dark green suit and walked on with a straight back.

The opulence of this university had a beauty he could admire on a better day than that one. The flowers hadn't come as a shock since it was Evanthe's essence, but they still depressed him further. The chandeliers would've been a work of art if they hadn't reminded him of Daphne, his wife. Only as he walked beside the library did he feel intrigued. There was a lure to it he couldn't understand. A pull in the pit of his stomach. But then it faded away when he turned his head to his right.

He found the door of the classroom where he would teach the History of Philosophy from then on.

Jungkook, 8:35 am

He couldn't believe what was happening. Everything went downhill since he had to tell the receptionist his full name, revealing his parentage, and now he was being escorted straight to the dorms. He couldn't even be sure that he had a roommate anymore.

Mary, the receptionist who gasped at the sound of his name when he whispered it, had given him his key, a map book of Evanthe so he wouldn't get lost, and a notebook for him to write down his assignments through that first year. Then, unprompted, she walked out of the circular formation and told them to follow her. He could almost feel Leo's bad mood as he walked behind them. Emily had switched to hold his hand for this unspoken reason.

Mary had gone on a on talking about how they all loved his siblings and treated them like royalty, and he just wanted to make her shut up. He didn't want the attention, the preferential treatment, or even to be recognised as "The Third Jeon Kid"; all he wanted was to be invisible and have a good time. All his problems in school started because even the teachers wouldn't leave him alone with all that "you're being ungrateful" and "don't you want to be like your siblings?" talk. He hated the thought of repeating it.

"I'm going to have to ask you to not do that," Jungkook stopped her in her recounting of how they celebrated Junior's first birthday in Evanthe. "I really don't want what they had; none of it. I just want to be treated like everyone else, please." Unable to calm down, he began to bite the skin off his bottom lip nibble by nibble.

"Oh..." Mary exclaimed, taken aback. "Oh, I... Well. Yes, of course, I'll try to get the word out if that's what you want."

He let go of his lip.

"You make it sound like it's difficult." He wasn't looking at her, instead choosing to look in front of them at the corridors she was leading them through.

"Well, you see, we've been doing it for five years in a row... But maybe, if I don't tell anybody you're the third Jeon kid, then no other worker will recognise you," she sounded hopeful. "I'll do all that's in my power; I can promise you that."

In other words: 'You're being delusional if you think you can go unnoticed when a teacher could simply call out a list of attendance and say your full name.'

Jungkook continued biting his lip as he walked straight.

"It's this way, sorry," Mary called his back. He'd walked a few more steps than the rest.

Once he turned around to follow her, he noticed the glass double doors she was leading them towards. They were slightly tinted a darker shade, to protect the paintings no doubt. Once they stepped out and the calmer wind graced his face, he relaxed his frown and let go of his bruised lip.

He unfolded his arms, letting go of the straps in his bag, and looked around the little garden to their left. He stopped walking to stare at the flowers, the green bushes cut rectangularly to protect them, and the two white butterflies dancing from petal to petal. It was such a delicately beautiful scene surrounded by the grey gloom of the sky and its surroundings that it made him want to paint it. It was beautifully tragic how the promise of rain instead of bringing nourishment would bring destruction. He wanted to remember it when the flowers lost their petals and the butterflies were gone.

"This will take a moment," Leo muttered behind him. Jungkook could hear the hint of a grin.

"What is he doing?" Mary asked in a low voice.

"He's just staring," Leo answered.

"It's because he's a painter," Emily explained. "He likes to paint from memory."

"Oh, wow. Did he come here to study art?"

"No," Emily answered, "Philosophy."

"Huh, that's interesting. I remember his sister was in architecture and his brother was in law. This is a very gifted family, indeed," Mary beamed as though she was glad to even know them.

That irked him. His parents built themselves a following for doing what? Behind him, Emily and Mary continued talking about them, and he tried to tune them out. His eyes followed the buildings to the west, some taller than others, the windows tall and tinted as well. Slowly, he felt pulled to look slightly to his right. There, he found the distant hint of the tree line between the opening of two separate buildings.

A pull in the pit of his stomach told him to go. It was odd. He'd never ventured into nature with excitement. But this need felt like he already knew there was something special waiting for him inside.

"Jungkook, I'm so sorry, but we're almost to the students' living area." Mary pulled him out of his thoughts, and he shook his head slightly.

Without a word, he turned back towards them, and they went on their way. He frowned slightly to the floor. There was still a pulling sensation tugging him to the unknown.

Taehyung, 8:45 am

He was relieved when he finally arrived at the black glass double doors where the professors lived. He had to place his Authorized Personel card against the glass to unlock it, which baffled him. Once he entered, there was an open door to his left leading to a launch and an open door to the right leading to a professor's room where they could have meetings, work in groups, and talk to students. He walked past them and reached one of the elevators at the end. As he waited for one to arrive, he found the stairs at the end of the corridor to his right and, to his left, a corridor that led to another out of sight.

When the elevator opened, out came a young professor who looked to be around his same age. Taehyung's eyes widened with hope.

"Hi," he greeted him.

But the man walked past him like he was invisible.

Holding his breath, Taehyung entered the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor out of four. The day couldn't get any worse. He had been under Daphne's rules for so long that he had forgotten how to make friends. He greeted that man like he would've done when he was in his teens, voice high and hopeful. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to act anymore.

Once he arrived at his floor, his shoulders were heavy. In the long hall stretching left to right, there were only four doors in total, one on each side and two on the wall parallel to the elevators. One of them read O'Connor and the other one Kim T. He went straight for the second one and used his new keys to enter.

His eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when he saw the inside. It was a loft with many more accommodations than one person alone might need. A kitchen with an island separating it to the dining room to his left where there was a table for six, then a living room with two armchairs, a sofa and a coffee table finished with an empty fireplace on the wall of six tall windows going from waist length to the ceiling. The living room was then separated by an empty bookshelf from the bedroom where there was a king-sized bed with bedside tables on each side.

In a daze, he walked to his right, passed the boxes with his stuff, and left his briefcase on the desk between the bedside table and the bathroom he was afraid to look at. Then, he sat on the bed.

Professors were not allowed to live with their families inside the campus, yet this is the space they're given. His children had been crying almost every day since they were all informed they had to separate, he wouldn't be able to even call them unless it was Saturday morning because his wife decided it so, he wouldn't be able to help with school, dry their tears, go out to eat or play in the park, and he will only be allowed to go back on holidays. But Daphne could visit him whenever she felt like it to "make sure he was doing a good job".

He was blessed by being born into the loveliest, most emotionally connected family he'd ever met. Now, he was cursed to be part of a family that saw each member as its own enterprise, not a human being. It was not a family; it was a partnership, and his kids were doomed to suffer in it from the start. That's why he stopped her from sending them to boarding schools and from putting them in tutoring lessons that went deep in the night. He put himself in their way of treating those innocent children like products to create more wealth, and this was his punishment.

He was out of their way, forced to know what would happen in his absence and do nothing to prevent it. Depression was secondary to the fury he felt at the lack of love people could thrive in.

He was being punished because he was capable of love.

With less than five minutes to the start of his first meeting, he was forced to swallow his emotions and straighten his suit, preparing to leave again.

Jungkook, 8:55 am

Getting to his room had been a nightmare. People were everywhere, boxes and bags being dragged or carried, and loud talking. His body was tense and clammy, and he'd had enough of it. When they reached the last door on the last corridor to the left side of the first floor, he let go of Emily's hand and unlocked his door.

The room took him aback; it was almost as spacious as his room back at the house and had a bathroom of its own. His boxes were to the left side of the room where the adjacent room was. He continued opening the door to see if he could change to the side with the window, but he found out, with the items placed on the second bedside table, that he'd arrived too late.

The bed had been pushed against the window. A guy was sitting crisscrossed with his knees against the wall and his elbows on the window ledge. The window was open, letting in the cold breeze as he gazed dazedly into the greenlands beyond. He had his earphones in, so he hadn't heard Jungkook unlocking the door. But when Leo hit the door to slam it open and barge in, the guy jumped and scrambled to his feet. Jungkook's heart missed a beat when he saw him dangerously close to falling out of the window.

"Oh, hey, another asian-looking guy." Leo chuckled and continued to look around.

Jungkook took a deep, tranquil breath.

"I'm sorry we scared you," he apologised to his roommate and then turned to his friends. Emily, as rule-abiding as ever, stood outside the threshold. "I'll organise my stuff, and then we can meet up again for lunch, alright?"

"Ok, Kooky." Emily nodded.

Leo groaned.

"Agh, dang it, and I really wanted to help." He shrugged. "Oh, well. If you insist."

Jungkook chuckled as Leo walked back out of the room.

"Send us a message, and we'll come back for you," Emily told him with a smile, and he nodded.

Once the door was closed, he turned back to his roommate. He was still standing exactly as before.

"I'm Jungkook." He stretched out his hand for him to shake. The guy looked at it but didn't take it. He looked almost scared. Jungkook slowly lowered his hand again. "Ok... Can I know your name, please?"

He couldn't understand how this person could've disliked him so quickly. Could it be his appearance? Was it so obvious that his hand was sweaty before, and that was why he didn't want to take it? He must look so ugly. What about his smell? His heartbeat quickened at the thought of being perceived as disgusting.

"I'll, uh..." Jungkook took a step back, pressing his hands to his jeans. He turned around to leave his backpack on his bed when he heard the guy saying something. Jungkook turned back around, believing it was a slur. "What did you say?"

The guy flinched, though he hadn't raised his voice. Then, looking at the floor, he repeated.

"I'm... Jimin."

His eyebrows lifted when he realised what the guy was telling him.

"Oh. Nice to meet you, Jimin," he scrambled a little to seem friendly, but he couldn't tell whether it worked or not as Jimin stood in the same position without saying anything else. Jungkook's body had reached its limit, he felt nervous, ugly, stressed, and cold. "I'm going to take a shower now, if you don't mind."

Without waiting for a response, Jungkook found the box where he'd put away his bathroom things, took it as well as his bag of toiletries, and locked himself in the bathroom.

He needed to scrub away the feeling of people from his skin.

Garrett, 9:10 am

It took longer than expected to get their keys, but they weren't the only ones. Many new arrivals had to wait to the side to be called and get theirs. It was confusing how scrambled everything felt.

They arrived hand in hand at the Students' Living Area, and the sight was, once again, confusing. Far too many people were moving around inside and shifting belongings from one place to another that it couldn't be only new arrivals. The only thing separating the first building of rooms from the rest of the university was three clear glass double doors. These remained open as people walked in and out.

The twenty per cent of energy he'd given Alex would fade away faster the longer they stayed in a crowded place. So, he squared his jaw, held her hand just a bit tighter, and forced their way in.

"Sorry," he apologised to the first person he hit with one of the bags. "I'm so sorry," he told the second.

On and on, he muttered apologies he wasn't sure others could hear as the pair of them made their way up the stairs. Once there, he turned them to the right side of the building and took Enyo to the other end. Here, there were far fewer people, allowing him to breathe. Before reaching the last corridor, he turned to their left and walked at a sure pace to the other end. The last door was her room. He'd corroborated with the receptionist so they wouldn't get lost.

He used her keys and entered the room, pulling her inside. Then, he closed the door and took a massive, deep breath. They did it.

"Alright," he looked around at the well-spaced room, "This must be your roommate's side so... here," he walked over to the bed next to the wall and left her two bags over it, "Good thing your roommate chose the side next to the window, you would've hated that." Chuckling, he turned back around.

She looked like she wanted to hit him. The effects had worn off. His smile faded as a chill ran down his spine, but he still walked over to her, trying to act like nothing was wrong in the hopes that nothing was.

"Your keys." He gave them to her. She kept looking at him for a while longer, but then she took them. He was able to exhale. "I'll leave you to unpack while I go and do the same thing, and then I'll come right back, alright?"

She didn't look like she wanted to speak. Gently, he raised his hands and held her shoulders. When she didn't shove him away, he nodded. It was a good sign.

"Alright," he answered to himself and then kissed her on her forehead, giving her a bit of mental clarity. A minty scent briefly surrounded them, and she took a deep breath. He leaned away from her and repeated his promise, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

She nodded this time, and he walked around her to leave. Once outside, he only had to go straight to reach the other end of the main hallway, where the elevators were. Then, he stopped to look for his room number a safe distance away from other people walking by. Once he found that it was the second to last door facing the wide hallway, he went straight to it, avoiding people on the way. Once inside his room, he was able to exhale deeply.

None of the beds looked like they'd been chosen, so he chose the one on the left closest to the bathroom. It was a shame his room didn't have a window, but the idea was to only use those rooms to sleep and get ready, not to study or work, so it was fine enough. He stood with his hands ready to open his bags and organise as fast as possible, but he stopped.

He forced himself to sit down for a moment. Just a moment. He took deep breaths and let them go slowly. His throat tightened with emotion, and he deepened his breathing to stop the tears from forming.

The sound of keys unlocking the door made him jump from his bed. The door was pushed open, but no one walked through. Instead, the guy trying to slide a box inside caught his eye and waved him over.

"Help me out, will you?"

"Sure." Garrett went to him and carefully slid his fingertips beneath the box.

"Careful, let's do it tog–"

Garrett straightened back up, lifting the box with him and went to leave it over his roommate's bed.

"Great! You're strong." The guy beamed. Garrett smiled shyly back at him. "Could you help me out with the rest?"

"Yes, of course." He went back to him, and they shook hands. "Garrett."

"Michael. My stuff's upstairs, let's go." Michael closed the door behind him and guided him towards the stairs to their right.

"Upstairs?" Garrett wondered over the noise, "Why did you have to change rooms?"

Michael widened his eyes and shrugged.

"Everyone did. It came out of nowhere, too, like, a week ago or something. But most of us had already bought our tickets to arrive today, so you would imagine." He exhaled, exhausted as they climbed the stairs and avoided people. "I had to get here and do a deep clean of my side, throw away some stuff and then get boxes and... It's madness in here, I tell you."

"Yes, I can see. But why? How were you informed?" Garrett followed him as they went to his room.

"Email." He rolled his eyes, outraged. "Who looks at that stuff in their free time, seriously? Well, I'm not darf, some came here in time to have time to do this. But that's just the thing, why? They never truly explained the why. I've been asking around, but no one can give me a solid answer." He took his keys from his pocket and opened his old room. "And then we have to go to the reception and leave our old keys. What a mess."

Garrett found it incredibly odd for such an important university with a complex bureaucratic system to have made what looked like a last-minute decision.

"Can I read the email?"

"Sure. Here you go." Taking his phone from his pocket, he only had to unlock it to show him the email. Then, he turned back around to go toward the other three boxes. "Tell me if you find anything. Even my parents are confused about it."

Garrett looked down at the device and began to read it.

Subject: Important Notice: Dormitory Room Reassignments

Dear Students,

We hope this email finds you well as we approach the beginning of the new academic term. As part of our ongoing commitment to improving the student living experience, we would like to inform all current dormitory residents of a necessary room reassignment process, which will take effect before the start of the semester.

This reallocation process has been carefully considered in light of several operational and logistical factors that affect the overall housing structure. As such, every resident will be required to relocate to a new room, as outlined in your respective dormitory's reassignment notice, which will be provided in the coming days.

While we understand that this adjustment may come as a surprise, we assure you that it is being undertaken with the utmost attention to the continued enhancement of residential life. The reassignments have been made to ensure optimal alignment with both the evolving framework of our housing arrangements and the anticipated residential patterns for this term.

Please note that while individual preferences have been taken into account where feasible, all changes are final and must be adhered to. Specific details, including your new room assignment, will be sent directly to you from the Housing Office. For any inquiries regarding this matter, we kindly ask that you refer to the Housing FAQ page.

We appreciate your cooperation and understanding as we work to streamline and enhance the student experience for the upcoming term.

Warm regards,

University Housing and Administration Office.

Garrett looked back up.

"This is alarmingly vague," He pointed out.

"I know!" Michael jumped up from sliding a box across the floor and went straight to him. "I've had enough. I told my mom not to start making calls, but now that my back is hurting..." He took his phone back and went to his contacts. "I might as well unleash her to the administration office. All this effort might cause an injury. What if I can't play football because of this?"

Garrett kept quiet as he tried not to chuckle. This reaction was a bit comical, even if the circumstances were still odd. As Michael called his mother, however, Garrett began taking the email apart in his mind. He was sure something hid beneath the vagueness.

'Necessary room reassignment process,' the email began. Necessary? That word alone felt off. Necessary for whom? Students had been living in the same rooms for months; what could justify the sudden change? It wasn't just an inconvenience.

It was an orchestrated disruption.

"Come," Michael brought him back from his musings as he pocketed his phone, "I'll take these two boxes, and you take that one, yeah?"

"Sure." He walked forward and knelt to take the box. It was as heavy as the last.

As they left the room, he continued thinking. An orchestrated disruption of this magnitude had an equally large reason behind it. But what exactly?

The next line... He frowned. 'Operational' and 'logistical' could mean anything, but in this case, it was too generalised. What factors could impact a building so suddenly? No maintenance notices had gone out or else Michael would've pointed them out. The only logical conclusion left was an internal shakeup of some kind, something behind the scenes that the university wasn't openly addressing.

The phrase 'affect the overall housing structure' made a chill run down his spine now that he thought back on it. The university's housing structure wasn't just a physical layout; it was also a carefully organised, tight-knit system. The sudden shift, the forced relocation; this wasn't about rooms. It was about surveillance.

The structure was being reorganised to confuse, disrupt, and scatter.

His heart beat faster. 'Evolving framework?' If they had caught wind of people trying to dig deeper into something the university might've been hiding, they would do exactly this: split everyone up and make it harder for any two people to track one another. The phrase practically screamed 'security breach.'

They reached their room once more, and he left Michael's stuff over his bed. They bumped fists once the job was done, and each focused on unpacking their things. The email had taken possession of his thoughts, and he couldn't stop thinking about it, worrying more and more.

If the university had nothing to hide, they would've given the full reason upfront. Why be so secretive otherwise? Why push students to an FAQ page? The admin was redirecting attention away from something they weren't willing to admit openly. The way they emphasised 'final changes' felt like a warning. It wasn't just an inconvenience, it was a lock being placed on something much bigger.

His breathing hitched when he realised.

They know. The university wasn't just moving students; it was scrambling to protect itself. This wasn't about improving 'residential life.' No. There was something bigger at play, something worth protecting, worth hiding. And now, with all the students being moved around, whatever the university was guarding just got that much harder to find. But the seekers wouldn't give up that easily.

That's why J and August were still here even after other seekers had come and gone without The Rose. Finding this hidden hero and keeping Alex inside the grounds were not their only orders, it seemed. But even with this information, he could do nothing. He'd been told not to contact them and promised Luz he wouldn't go around finding troubles to fix.

His hands shook as he put away his clothes in the chest of drawers. If the rumours about what the university was hiding were true, this was the last place Alex should be in. But, if they went back, she would be locked in a Cave of Thought. Either way, her anger and mistakes would be his fault. He would have to be careful.

Leo, 9:30 am

They walked aimlessly around the grounds and away from the commotion. He yawned again as he tried to listen to the girl clinging to his right arm. Emily was now talking about the drama behind a skincare company, but he couldn't see what that had to do with nail polish.

Instead of looking around at the gardens they passed or the important statues, he looked down at his phone. The pair of them had arrived together four days prior, driven to Heathrow airport by Emily's parents. His parents were on a business trip throughout the last few days he stayed home. His departure was not a celebration but a duty and so he never got a goodbye.

He frowned and shook his head.

"What?"

"I know!" Emily agreed, outraged and excited. "He bought her lilies when her favourites were roses and her best friend's name is Lily and everyone's freaking out because, how dare he act confused?"

"Yeah, that's common sense." He nodded.

"I knew you would get it." She sighed. "You won't believe what happened next." Continuing with her story, he only had to hum in the right places and with the right intonation to make her happy.

He had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, who they were talking about, who "everyone" was and why they were freaking out, or even why it even mattered what type of flowers a guy got his girl. He was still confused as to what any of it had to do with nail polish.

Over the course of almost ten years of friendship, he'd grown accustomed to hearing her voice continuously. Sometimes, more than others, he would need her to talk about anything as a distraction. Her talking about trivial, internet things allowed him, at that moment, to forget about the anger he'd been carrying since he found out his parents wouldn't be there to send him off.

She was the one who guided him as his eyes stayed glued to his mobile game. Eventually, he noticed a shift in the scent around them, and he looked up. They were inside the library. He paused his game and looked at her as she took them to the other end of the massive place.

"-because she told everyone she never did anything to her face. But people found photos from her school that showed she clearly had a different nose. She was forced to come clean about it and–I thought she only wanted to change it and that's it, but no, she was in a car accident because her boyfriend's girlfriend found out about her–"

"Her what?" Leo squinted, bewildered by what he was hearing.

"She was the other woman," Emily explained. He still didn't know who they were talking about. "It was right after they graduated high school," Of course, it happened in America, "This girl found her, caused a car crash, the other woman sued her, and with the money she got out of it she bought a new car, a new face, and the guy ended up choosing her, and now everyone loves her."

"...yei."

"No, not yei!" She whispered-shouted.

"Not yei." He complied. He caught the wrong vibes from her storytelling. "Why not yei?"

She opened her eyes and mouth as though trying to find the words he obviously should've known by now.

"Because he's an awful guy." He thought they were talking about girls. "He cheated on his girlfriend with her best friend and let everyone know at her birthday party by giving her lilies instead of roses and then gaslighted her into believing she was just making it all up in her head. Just like he manipulated the girl before her to put on rosey pearl-coloured nail polish to go to the beach where she believed he would propose so she got all pretty and instead he called the paparazzi to get good pictures of him with his new girl only two weeks after the skin-care owner came out and said he was an awful boyfriend. No one believed her at the time, and many still don't because car-accident girl is taking all the attention, and she was the other woman; she was not Lily, she was the third. He's not even that good looking, I don't understand any of it."

"I don't understand any of it either." At least they could agree on that.

When they reached the other end, they went to a corner accommodated to lay down and relax either on carpets or a puff. They weren't the only ones there. Emily guided him to a puff close to one of the windows, but he stopped her.

"Too much light," he explained as he guided them to a brown one placed against a wall.

He sat down first and then she sat down half on top of him, cuddling close to him. He put an arm around her and held his phone with the other.

"Any other crazy stories this week?" He chose a different, more idle level of the game so he wouldn't have to use both hands.

"There is, but this one's kind of sad." Her tone was sad as well.

He frowned, staring at the screen.

"Sad how?"

"Do you remember Patrick Cox?"

"Should I?" He squinted, trying to remember.

"The lead guitarist to the Drum Fighters?"

He nodded.

"Yeah. What happened? Did he die?" He turned his head to look at her. He wasn't a great fan of the band; all he knew was from what she told him.

She shook her head, looking away as though disappointed with what she knew.

His confusion deepened.

"Did he cheat on his wife?"

"I wished he had. He never had a wife... Oh, what a mess." She raised her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. When she spoke next, she was whispering so only he could hear. "A crew member of the tour found his notebook, where he wrote all his songs, and found..." She lowered her hand and squinted her eyes, looking uncomfortable before even uttering the words. "In all the lyrics–... In the final songs, they always talk about 'her' and 'baby'. But, in his notebook, he uses 'he. '" She grimaced and placed a hand to her mouth, disgusted. Leo felt immediately uncomfortable, grimacing as well. "And, instead of using 'baby'... he wrote a name."

"Oh no." Leo shook his head. He didn't even want to know, and still, "Whose name?"

She looked at him with a pained expression, and it took a second for her to finally answer.

"The drummer's."

Leo's eyes widened.

"No." He gasped.

"Yes." She nearly sobbed. "Can you imagine the terror they must've felt- that he must've felt? Finding out they had a sick bandmate for nearly five years and then... they shared a tour bus– anything could've happened to that drummer."

"Wait, wait, but what happened to the guy? The guitarist?"

"He was arrested, of course." She whispered, scandalised. "But no one knew until three days ago. They were supposed to have a concert at night and it was cancelled that same morning. Fans were furious, but there was completely no communication from the band. Then, the footage of his arrest got leaked; someone on the team leaked the news to the press, and then, if you couldn't believe this couldn't get any worse, fans were divided."

He glanced away as he thought, but he still had to ask.

"Divided how?"

She nodded.

"Exactly. You wouldn't even believe anybody could even suggest that he was innocent for what he did."

"Oh, wow, there are people on his side?" He moved around in his half-laying position, uncomfortable.

"Lunatics, you mean." She shook her head disapprovingly. "That sick monster ruined everyone else's career. All their social media was deleted. Their content was deleted. Anyone who tries to upload anything in the band's support gets flagged. The rest of the tour got cancelled, their songs were banned, and they got no news coverage because the media wanted to act like they weren't even there. People are destroying the merch they bought. Five years of hard work and fan support were gone in less than five hours. Why would someone do that to so many people? He ruined everything for everybody just because he didn't want to receive medical help at the right time."

"Yeah, that's... Let's not talk about that anymore." He left his phone beside him and hugged her closer to him. "I'm tired. Let's cuddle."

She giggled.

"Ok." Getting more comfortable so he could hug her against his chest, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I have more good stories, though."

"Tell me all about them."

"So, there was this girl-"

He closed his eyes and held her close, focused on the sound of her voice and how familiar it was. That last story had left him a bit shaky.

That guy was arrested because they found him writing a bandmate's name on all his love songs. Not because he'd hurt anybody, but because–...

He held her closer, frowning as he focused fiercely on the next story she babbled about.

Raphael, 10:00 am

As soon as the meeting ended, the room cleared in an organised yet frantic way. Everyone knew where they had to go and what they had to do next except for him. His heart still pounding from the rush of information, he hurried to follow his father. He was in a fierce conversation with the Cardinal of the South.

He'd barely understood, his mind racing to connect fragments of the discussion. The quiet hum of urgency lingered as he stepped out of the heavy oak doors, following the Cardinal of the North through the labyrinthine halls of the conference building. His hand instinctively reached for his phone, checking the time as though that ordinary act could ground him.

The meeting had been unlike any he'd attended before. Not because of the tension -it was always there- but because of the weight in the air. It wasn't just the usual manoeuvring, the political chess game he'd grown used to. Today, there had been an edge, a sharpened sense of impending action. He could feel it in his bones.

His mind circled back to the core of it: The people in black, terrifying ordinary citizens in the streets of London and seemingly tied to something far more dangerous. But it wasn't just that. It couldn't have been. The meeting had revealed something larger, something global.

The Cardinal of the South's voice, deep and unwavering, echoed in his memory. "The crown is threatened, not just by them but by others—those we've long ignored." The mention of Spain and France had been brief, almost too brief. But what really struck him was how calmly they'd discussed decades of secret conflict. It wasn't that they hadn't known. It was that he hadn't known.

Decades of secret battles. His stomach churned at the realisation. They hadn't been fighting wars for land or resources like they had in the past. They'd been fighting for something else, something that had been kept out of his reach, something they all thought was so important it justified the secrecy.

He followed his father, Cardinal of the North, in silence as they walked toward the waiting helicopter. The whir of the blades grew louder as they approached, but inside his head, everything became eerily quiet. He'd always been good at connecting dots, but this time, the pieces were jagged and elusive. Why were these meetings happening now? Why was the urgency so high? And what was the item they spoke of, without ever naming it?

He remembered snippets of the discussion: "This creation... it must happen now," and "The power it holds will either secure peace or lead to destruction."

Peace or destruction. The only thing he knew for sure was that the item was crucial, so important that the kings of three kingdoms would risk coming together to ensure its success. What could be that powerful? A weapon? That was his first assumption. But no, weapons had been discussed before, never with this kind of secrecy. This was something else. Something new.

As they boarded the helicopter, the wind from the blades whipping around them, he kept his eyes on the ground, on the people scattered about the landing pad. Soldiers, guards, and officials were all just doing their jobs. But soon, would they even have a choice?

Once seated beside his father, he, the right-hand man, felt his breath catch. It hit him then, all at once.

The war was inevitable, whether this item was created or not. Either it would be made, and the power it unleashed would lead to a global struggle for control, or it wouldn't, and the people who had fought for so long to create it would turn their weapons on each other. He clenched his fists. How could he not have seen this before?

They weren't fighting over a resource or a territory. They were fighting over control: control of the people, of minds, of hearts. The people in black, those quiet figures stalking the streets of London... they were trying to stop something. They had to be. But what? Raphael still didn't know.

But he knew one thing for certain. He'd heard it in the undertones, in the way the world leaders spoke about their soldiers and their people. This wasn't about protection. It wasn't about keeping the peace. It was about ensuring compliance, about making sure no one would rebel again. The wars, the riots, the protests, they wanted them all to end, not through diplomacy, but through dominance.

He had a sickening feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. His mind replayed one final phrase from the meeting as the helicopter lifted into the air, speeding them back toward Leeds.

"The item, once distributed, will ensure stability. No more rebellions, no more outbursts. We'll have control."

Control. That's what this was all about. Raphael still didn't know what the item was. But he knew that whatever it was, whether created or destroyed, it would change everything.

War was coming. There was no stopping it now.

________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 3: 25th of March

Follow me on Instagram (😘threat💗): shadowela 

Give me a tip if you like! The link to my BuyMeACoffee is in my bio. You can send me as little as 50 cents or as much as you want, and it'll make a difference at the end of my month. 

Subscribe to my Patreon! Link in bio. For $4, you'll get the month's chapter at the start of the month, two weekly chapters of Wordship (a new standalone), and three rhymes about the month's chapter (DEM), among other things. The highest level costs $15 a month with three playlists, original book art you can use as wallpapers, an extra chapter about the characters' past (DEM) and much more. 

Thank you so much for your support! 

To motivate you into subscribing to my Patreon: I currently have three Harry Potter posters, and I want to buy picture frames so I can hang them on my wall, but I can't spare the money. Could you help me? 😇