Everything moved around me like I didn’t belong to it.

The shouts of students, the laughter, the rush of festival prep—it all blurred together in meaningless motion, like I was watching the world through a pane of glass.

And I was sulking.

Hard.

My straw made a loud, angry slurp against the bottom of my boba tea cup as I sucked down the last of it like it owed me something. My fingers were still hovering over my chat with P’Johan, open and painfully blank.

Should I text him?

No. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

I was losing.
The dare. My composure. My pride.
Maybe somewhere along the way… my heart too.

What was the point of resisting? Not bothering him with my clinginess didn’t feel like growth—it felt like suffocating. Not cooking for him didn’t feel like setting boundaries—it felt like throwing pieces of myself away.

I clenched the cup tighter.

“Uh… P’North?”

A soft voice broke into my spiral. I looked up to find a wide-eyed freshman hovering near the table with a sheepish smile.

“There’s someone calling for you near the storage room. They said it’s about decorations?”

Me?

What?

They barely ever made me do manual labor. I was the decorative piece, not the builder. This had to be some sort of mistake.

“Okay, Nong. Thank you,” I replied, standing up, my body already heavy with the exhaustion of too many feelings.

My head was an absolute mess.

Still, I made my way toward the storage shed behind the arts building. The corridor was oddly quiet, the usual noise of the field muffled into background static.

I turned the corner.

Nothing.

No one.

I frowned. “Hello?”

Was this a prank?

I was already in a bad mood, and this was not helping. I turned around to leave—
Only to be shoved hard against the wall.

“FUCK—!”
My breath caught in my throat as my back slammed against the cold metal surface of the storage door.

I looked up, stunned.

P’Pran.

What the hell?

“Nong…” he said, voice low, too close.

“P-Pran? What the hell is this?” I snapped, trying to push him back with my forearm. “Back off!”

But he didn’t budge. His arms caged me in like I was prey.

“You’re not chasing Johan anymore,” he said hoarsely. “You’re done humiliating yourself for someone who treats you like garbage, aren’t you?”

My stomach twisted.

“What are you talking about?” I growled, struggling to step sideways—but he blocked me with a knee between my legs.

My eyes widened.

“Get off me!”

“I’ve liked you for so long, Nong.” His fingers curled around my wrists, gripping them tighter as I squirmed. “Even when you were running after him. Even when he ignored you. I kept hoping you’d get tired of waiting.”

“This isn’t the way—” I choked out.

He leaned in closer. “But now you’re done, right? You’re finally over him. That means I can—”

“No, you can’t,” I spat, twisting against his hold. “I never gave you a reason to think—”

“But you smile at everyone,” he hissed, eyes crazed. “You flirt. You touch. You look at people like you want them to chase you.”

My blood ran cold.

This was not happening.

I jerked my leg up to kick him—
He blocked it with his thigh, pinning me further. My wrists were burning from how hard he held them.

“You’ve always been mine,” he whispered. “You just didn’t know it yet.”

“Fuck off—let me go!” My voice cracked with fury and fear.

His face hovered too close. I turned mine sharply, breath shaking.

He leaned closer anyway, lips almost grazing my cheek.

“I would’ve treated you right,” he whispered. “I would’ve—”

“Don’t.” My voice trembled. “You’re scaring me.”

My heart thudded in my ears. I could barely breathe.

I wriggled again, but he was stronger. He was waiting for something, I didn’t know what, and my panic was rising with every second he didn’t move.

I wanted to scream.
Cry.
Vomit.
Run.

But then—

A sound.
Heavy boots.
A sharp voice.

“Little brat?”

My heart stopped.

P’Johan.

Footsteps.

And then—
A violent shove.

P’Pran went flying to the side like someone had ripped him off me with inhuman strength. I stumbled forward, barely catching myself on shaking legs.

I looked up—

P’Johan stood between us now. Chest heaving. Jaw clenched. Eyes murderous.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing?” Johan growled.

P’Pran scrambled up, disoriented. “I—It’s not—He was leading me on—”

Before he could finish, Johan slammed him against the opposite wall with one hand on his collar.

“If you ever touch him again, I will break your fucking jaw.”

“P’—”

“Try me.” Johan’s voice was pure steel. “You think I didn’t see what you were doing? You think you can trap him in some dark hallway and call that a confession?”

P’Pran whimpered something, too cowardly to fight back. Johan finally shoved him off for good.

“Get lost,” he spat. “Before I decide to report you.”

P’Pran staggered and disappeared around the corner without another word.

And then silence.

My knees buckled slightly. Johan turned to me.

“And what the fuck were you thinking?” he barked.

I flinched.

“W-what?” I blinked up at him, still curled on the floor.

“You went alone. Into a storage room. When some random kid told you to? Are you stupid?”

His voice was razor-sharp.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“You don’t even question it? Just wander off like some clueless idiot?” he growled, stepping closer. “He could’ve hurt you—he almost—”

He cut himself off and dragged a hand down his face, like the thought physically pained him.

“I—I didn’t think—” I started, voice shaky.

“No, you didn’t. That’s the fucking problem,” he snapped.

I shrank further into myself, my hands tightening into fists on my knees.

“Always running your mouth, always making a scene, and the one time you should’ve said something or screamed or—fought—you just—” His voice cracked. “You just stood there and froze like a helpless child.”

That hit harder than it should’ve.

I bit my lip, the sting of tears already rising again.

He noticed.

“Oh no. Don’t you fucking cry again,” Johan snapped, throwing his head back. “Don’t start with that shit right now.”

“I didn’t know what to do!” I shouted back suddenly, voice breaking. “I didn’t know he would—would do that!”

Tears spilled down despite me trying to hold them in. I hated crying like this—especially in front of him.

“I already feel like shit, okay? You don’t have to rub it in.”

Johan groaned. “Little brat…”

I shook my head, furiously wiping my eyes, trying to breathe through the sobs.

“I—I didn’t want to bother anyone. I was just trying to help for once and— and now you’re yelling at me like I asked for this—!”

He slammed his palm on the metal cabinet beside him, the bang making me jump.

“I’m yelling because you don’t get it!” he snapped. “Because I’m the one who has to walk in and find you— like that! Because if I’d been a minute late, he could’ve—”

He didn’t finish.

His chest was heaving. His fists were clenched. His eyes were wild with something I couldn’t name.

I choked out another sob and turned my face away. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Shut up,” Johan muttered, voice lower now. “Stop crying already. You’re pissing me off.”

I whimpered.

“North.”

I didn’t respond.

He growled again in sheer frustration, then suddenly yanked me up by the arm—not gently, but not to hurt either.

“Get up.”

“Where are we—?”

“Back to your dorm.”

“I—I can go alone—”

“Clearly, you shouldn’t be alone,” he snapped.

He dragged me toward the door. I stumbled behind him, sniffling like a kicked puppy.

And he didn’t look back even once.