Rayyan woke before dawn.
The sky outside the hostel window was still dark, a faint line of blue waiting behind the horizon. The corridor was silent, heavy with sleep. He got ready quietly — washed his face, smoothed his hair, buttoned his shirt.
He wore the new shoes Uncle Khair had bought him.
They still felt unfamiliar — like hope that hadn't settled yet.
He left early.Not because he was eager — but because he was afraid to be late. Afraid to draw eyes. Afraid to make mistakes.
At the bus stop, other students arrived slowly — laughing, half-awake, headphones in, branded backpacks slung loosely behind them. They looked like they already knew how to exist here.
Rayyan stood alone, hands clasped.
Focus. Learn. Don't fall behind.
Foundation Mathematics I
The lecture hall was bright and cold. Screens lit up — MacBooks, tablets, glowing quietly. Rayyan placed a simple notebook on the desk.
The lecturer began quickly.
Functions → identities → examples → solutions.
Rayyan understood the math — but not the speed. His pencil raced across the page, handwriting collapsing into frantic strokes.
Other students typed effortlessly.The lecturer moved on.
Rayyan's breath quickened.
I cannot afford to fall behind. Not even once.
Computer Skills
"Open Microsoft Word," the lecturer instructed.
Rayyan stared at the screen.
Tabs. Menus. Ribbons.
Too many. Too unfamiliar.
The students beside him moved confidently, formatting like it was natural.
Rayyan couldn't even find Insert.
His fingers went numb. His chest tightened.
The world shrank.
Then—
"Bro. Chill. I show you."
Rayyan looked up.
Amir.The same boy who helped him register his subjects.
Amir pulled his chair closer.
"This bold. This justify. This save. This insert picture. First week, everyone pretending they know. Actually, all blur."
He grinned — easy, casual — like kindness was normal.
And something inside Rayyan loosened.
Just enough to breathe again.
Evening
Rayyan sat at his hostel desk.His notes were messy. His head was heavy.
But the pages were full.
Page after page of effort.
He whispered to himself:
"I will learn. I will catch up."
Not because he was brilliant.Not because success was promised.
But because he had no choice except to rise.
Sometimes, necessity is stronger than talent.
The Next Morning
Rayyan left early again.
The bus stop was quieter today. A few students. Soft footsteps.
Then he saw her.
Lisa.
The girl from the cafeteria.The girl who bought him food without asking anything.
She looked at him.He nodded — small, unsure.
She gave a tiny smile — barely there.
But it was enough.
They boarded the bus.
She sat by the window.Rayyan took the row behind her.
He didn't speak.He didn't stare.
He just watched the morning sunlight settle against her shoulder.
Something quiet moved inside him.
Not love.Not even affection.
Just that rare feeling—
of not being invisible.
That night, the loneliness did not feel as sharp.
Maybe because of Amir.Maybe because of effort.Maybe because of survival.
Or maybe — just maybe —
because someone had smile.