Emerald awoke to the cheerful, yet jarring, sounds of birdsong, glancing at the clock to see he had only two hours before his first class. He drifted back to sleep, savoring the final moments of peace, but was abruptly jolted awake by Eva, his guardian angel—or more accurately, his exasperated warden.
"You good-for-nothing kid, who do you think is going to get you to class?" Eva scolded, having apparently given him a less-than-gentle kick off the luxurious couch he'd claimed.
Still groggy, Emerald slowly came to his senses. Since Eva was clearly in a foul mood, he knew breakfast wouldn't be pleasant—or even provided. He was soon dragged out of the house by Eva, who settled down in the living room with the remote, turning on the TV.
"Who's going to drive me?" Emerald asked, standing by the door.
"Woah, come on, kid. The keys are on the shelf. Drive yourself," Eva retorted, not taking her eyes off the screen. "Aren't you the one who always talks about being 'classy'?"
With only ten minutes to spare, Emerald rushed out the door. He'd never driven the DBX 10 before, so he took a moment to gather his thoughts, channeling Zinan's cool precision, before cautiously pressing the gas pedal and roaring out onto the street.
Emerald, rushing late for class, abandoned the powerful car in a haphazard, non-designated parking spot near the main university entrance and dashed into the lecture hall. Inside, he found Isak surrounded by a bustling group of students from another major, all vying for the charismatic newcomer's attention. They seemed engrossed in conversation, their body language suggesting a keen interest in what Isak had to say about the 'famous new international student.'
Emerald, despite the crowd around Isak, felt a pang of loneliness—a sudden, sharp craving for his old, effortless camaraderie. He noticed a whole seat was free next to him, but instead of inviting someone to join him, he deliberately spread out, effectively claiming the entire space for himself. His pride and perhaps a touch of aloofness kept him from acknowledging his solitary feeling and reaching out to the other students.
The lecture hall felt stale, the topics like dusty relics he'd already unearthed and examined countless times. Each point the professor made echoed in his mind, a hollow repetition of knowledge he already possessed. It was a strange paradox; the very act of being forced to revisit these well-worn concepts seemed to drain his energy, yet true sleep never claimed him.
The irony wasn't lost on him. He, the notorious classroom sleeper, never actually slept during lectures anymore. A sudden, almost painful jolt of awareness brought the truth crashing down: it wasn't the droning professor, the dry subject matter, or even the uncomfortable chairs. It was himself. He was Emerald.
The shift had been subtle, a gradual metamorphosis. He had always been prone to daydreaming, to drifting off in class. But somewhere along the line, that tendency had crystallized into something more. The 'Emerald' persona—the confident, magically augmented man—had become a separate entity, a conscious figure he adopted when he was truly present. And it was this 'Emerald' who now kept the sleepy, ordinary version of himself awake. The question was, why? What had caused this strange bifurcation of his consciousness? And more importantly, now that he knew, could he control it?
Abandoning the charade of attentiveness, he shoved his pen and notebook to the far edge of his desk, a silent signal of surrender. His laptop beckoned, a portal to a more engaging reality. He dove into its depths, expertly navigating the digital landscape of procrastination, a master of time-wasting. His reign of distraction, however, was short-lived. The professor, ever vigilant, zeroed in on his blatant disregard for the lecture and, with a sigh that spoke of long-suffering patience, instructed him to remove his headphones.
The lecture had run longer than expected, leaving Emerald feeling restless. Without wasting another moment, he strode out of the classroom, heading straight for the cafeteria.
Isak, however, had been entrusted with more information than he could comfortably handle. The news of the foreigner's impromptu 'marriage'—a story he was largely responsible for spreading—had sent shockwaves through the university. He hurried out, eager to find Emerald and share the astonishing fallout.
He spotted Emerald in the parking lot, deep in conversation with a campus security officer. Emerald seemed to be mid-sentence, gesturing animatedly towards his illegally parked car. Isak took a moment to observe the scene, a wry smile playing on his lips.
Isak closed in on the scene, his curiosity piqued. Seeing him, the security officer encouraged him to intervene.
"Ohh, you, come here. As a fellow kid, would you kindly tell him the manners?" the security officer said, gesturing towards Emerald's recklessly parked DBX.
Isak pulled back Emerald, his voice low. "You got a few pounds?" he inquired.
"Yeah, around a thousand," Emerald replied, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and disbelief.
Isak moved towards the security officer, his eyes scanning the scene. He leaned in, his voice low and confidential. "Listen," he said, "I think we can come to an agreement."
After a brief, intense exchange, Isak stepped back, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He called Emerald over.
"Boy, five hundred," Isak said, holding out his hand.
Emerald, still bewildered by the encounter, reluctantly pulled out a wad of bills. Isak took the money, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He moved a short distance away from Emerald, continuing his conversation with the security officer in hushed tones.
The security officer, seemingly pleased with the outcome, shook hands with Isak and then walked away.
Isak got back to Emerald, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, there goes that problem," he said, a playful smile playing on his lips.
"You tight on money?" Emerald asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, everybody is short on it," Isak replied, his smile widening. "Why would you ask anyway?"
"You grabbed five hundred krona from me, right?" Emerald said, a hint of amusement masking his disbelief.
Isak nodded. "Yep."
Emerald continued, "The security only took four hundred, so where's the hundred?"
"It's the broker fee, boy," Isak said, winking.
Emerald stared at him, speechless. "You... you just took a bribe on a bribe?"
Isak shrugged, utterly unrepentant. "Hey, a man's gotta eat." He grinned. "Anyway, you got a lot to catch up on. Why don't we grab a drink?"
Isak led the way, a sense of camaraderie already forming between them.
They collected their drinks and found a quiet corner in the busy cafeteria. Emerald, a mischievous glint in his eyes, pulled out a crisp five-hundred-krona note from his wallet and handed it to Isak.
"Why, man, don't you need any?" Isak asked, surprised by the generosity.
"I got a card," Emerald replied, a smug grin spreading across his face. "And my lady pays for everything I need. Just tell me if you need anything, don't try to hide it."
"So the DBX is yours?" Isak asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Not just the DBX," Emerald boasted, a smirk playing on his lips. "I got a lot more, man."
"Where did you meet her, your wife Eva?" Isak inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"Social media," Emerald replied, fabricating an answer with practiced ease.
"There's a lot of girls who got an eye on you," Isak said with a calm tone, "Even the senior baddies."
"But didn't the news spread that I'm married?" Emerald asked Isak, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, it did," Isak replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But nobody knows it's Eva. I can't let my brother despair. Anyway, there's this hot chick, Sofia, she's a senior in our major, super rich too. Just because there's a keeper doesn't mean you can't score, give it a shot, man."
Emerald chuckled. "What a man you are, appreciating the efforts you put yourself without any words from me. But I'm not the guy you thought I am. I'm a man who is loyal to the woman I married. So, the scoring is not gonna happen."
As they both were talking, Isak noticed a group of seniors approaching their table. He gave Emerald a subtle signal—a slight raising of his eyebrows and a subtle shake of his head, indicating that something obnoxious was about to happen.
(To be continued)