Well, thinking about it now with a bit more calm, maybe this whole situation is my fault.
When I left the classroom and started walking toward the cafeteria, I ran into Vanessa in the middle of the hallway. She was coming from the opposite direction, with that confident stride that always drew attention, and ended up changing her path to walk beside me. Up to that point, nothing unusual.
The problem arose a few meters later, when we reached the cafeteria entrance and came face to face with Olivia and Nathan, who seemed to be waiting. The four of us meeting felt almost choreographed, as if the universe had decided to bring all the pieces together in the same place. The air changed instantly. I noticed it right away.
Vanessa and Olivia looked at each other. It wasn't a casual glance, the kind you give out of politeness before looking away. It was a silent, careful, almost clinical analysis. A type of mutual evaluation I definitely don't understand—and don't really care to. Maybe it really is a woman thing.
"Nice to meet you, Olivia," Olivia said first, extending her hand with a smile that was far too short to be friendly.
"Vanessa," Vanessa replied in the same tone, shaking her hand just enough to be polite.
The greeting was correct, civil… and completely cold. There was no open hostility, but the tension was there, dense, hanging in the air. I had a vague idea of what it meant. The famous silent rivalry. That unspoken competition that arises when two people realize they're orbiting the same center of attention.
Classic love-triangle material. Except this wasn't a comic book or a teenage movie cliché. This was real life. And honestly, I hoped neither of them was willing to compete over me. At least, that's what I wanted to believe.
I decided to completely ignore that behavior and walked into the cafeteria as if nothing had happened.
We sat at a table farther back. Nathan took the seat across from me, while Vanessa sat on one side and Olivia on the other. By some miracle—or perhaps pure social strategy—the atmosphere shifted within minutes. The tension dissolved into conversation.
Olivia started talking about her favorite band, commenting on a recent album. To my surprise, Vanessa immediately showed interest and said she liked the same band. They exchanged opinions, mentioned songs, laughed at coincidences. I watched in silence, almost incredulous.
Vanessa, with her Russian background, always surprised me with how ordinary—in the best sense—her tastes were. Nothing exotic, nothing distant. That alone seemed to bring them closer than I expected.
Still, it was impossible to ignore the visual effect of that table.
Two women like Vanessa and Olivia sitting beside me inevitably drew attention. Looks began to pile up around us—some curious, others clearly filled with envy. Many of them came from guys I vaguely recognized—probably frustrated admirers of Olivia, bothered by seeing their idol sitting with me, laughing and talking as if it were natural.
Nathan noticed before I did. He shrank slightly in his chair, visibly uncomfortable with the unwanted attention. I just ignored it. It wasn't my problem.
Vanessa and Olivia didn't seem to notice—or simply didn't care. Maybe they were used to it. Stares, judgments, excessive attention. For them, it seemed like just another normal day.
As if the situation weren't already charged enough, someone approached the table.
A girl with white hair streaked with blue, wearing a black coat and carrying a mysterious presence, stopped beside us. Emily. Her appearance clashed completely with the cafeteria environment, as if she had stepped out of a different scene.
"Hi, Luke. Can I sit with you guys?" she asked, with a discreet smile.
"Hi, Emily. Sure," I replied without thinking much.
No one at the table objected. Nathan shifted to make space, but not before casting a quick—and confused—glance at Olivia and Vanessa. Both of them followed Emily's every movement with silent attention. I didn't need to be a genius to know what was going through their minds. Their expressions said it all: Who is she?
I didn't bother justifying anything. I wasn't dating either of them. I didn't owe explanations.
"I brought the paper for you to sign," Emily said, getting straight to the point.
"What paper?" Vanessa asked immediately, her tone casual in a way that failed to hide her sudden interest.
"Emily needs signatures to approve a play for her club," I explained. "I met her on Friday at the party I went to. She asked for help, but didn't have the paper at the time. So we agreed to take care of it today."
"That's right," Emily confirmed. "I need at least two hundred signatures."
I took the paper from her hands and signed my name. Once they understood the situation, Olivia, Vanessa, and Nathan also offered to help by signing. The tension visibly eased. The mood became lighter, almost cooperative.
"With your help, I think I'll get the approval," Emily said, relieved. "Thank you so much, everyone."
After that, the strange atmosphere between the girls practically disappeared. Conversations flowed more naturally, laughter popped up here and there. At least at the table, everything seemed calm.
It almost didn't seem like, just minutes earlier, Vanessa and Olivia had exchanged looks capable of throwing sparks. The silent tension that had formed between them dissolved almost completely, as if it had never existed. Even the slight discomfort caused by Emily's unexpected arrival faded away. Maybe neither of them saw her as a real threat—or maybe it just wasn't worth showing it. Women are complicated.
The rest of lunch went by surprisingly peacefully, with light conversations and occasional laughter. The five of us interacted naturally, as if that table hadn't been the stage for a silent dispute moments earlier.
By the end of lunch, Emily said goodbye quickly, saying she needed to get back to her club. Olivia and Nathan stood up shortly after, claiming they had things to take care of. Within minutes, only Vanessa and I were left.
We walked to a bench beneath the shade of a large tree, away from the main flow of the campus. The day was hot, but a gentle breeze made the environment pleasant, lightly rustling the leaves above us.
Vanessa sat beside me and crossed her legs naturally before giving me an amused look.
"You're popular with women, huh," she commented in a teasing tone.
"How so?" I asked, pretending complete ignorance.
She let out a faint smirk.
"Well… Olivia clearly sees you differently. Romantically, even if she tries to hide it."
I couldn't deny it. The kiss from Friday immediately came to mind, along with a strange sense of guilt for having practically forgotten about it throughout the day. Maybe I'd been too distracted. Maybe I'd been avoiding thinking about it. The strangest part was that Olivia had acted as if nothing had happened.
"And you?" I asked back, looking at Vanessa. "Do you see me that way too?"
She laughed softly, as if the question were obvious, but her smile soon lost some of its lightness.
"Isn't it clear?" She paused briefly, taking a deep breath before continuing. "If everything works out with my father… I'll give myself to you, body and soul."
The seriousness in her tone caught me off guard. Her eyes were fixed on mine—no irony, no joke. Just truth. I fell silent, trying to organize the thoughts that flooded in all at once: possibilities, fears, responsibilities. Maybe out of nervousness—or pure stupidity—I ended up saying the worst possible thing at that moment.
"What if I want to be with other women?"
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I thought again of Olivia, of the kiss, of everything that was still uncertain. I didn't have anything defined with either of them.
Vanessa didn't react the way I expected. There was no anger, no surprise. Just a soft sigh.
"I don't mind," she replied gently, though her gaze drifted away. "I just want to be close to you. I feel good when I'm with you."
That's when I understood. Her concern wasn't possession or exclusivity. It was fear. Her father, the complicated situation, the instability. Maybe I was just a point of support amid the chaos.
I didn't say anything else. I simply slid my hand into hers, intertwining our fingers. Vanessa returned it with a small smile, and we stayed like that in silence, while the wind moved through the trees.
…
Tuesday, 5:40 p.m.
I have an exam soon. Since it's one of those mandatory subjects shared by multiple courses, with different classes, the university always schedules it for the evening. I was sitting on a bench in front of the building where the exam would take place, scrolling through my phone more out of habit than real interest. My mind was far from the material, trapped in scattered thoughts, until a presence imposed itself in front of me.
A face far too familiar to be a coincidence.
Neatly styled hair, confident posture, teeth too white for someone who never seemed to care about that. Ethan. Tall, just like always, with that air of someone who never had to try too hard to be noticed.
"Long time no see, Luke."
His voice sounded casual, almost comfortable. In me, it caused the opposite.
A strange sensation settled in my chest. Ethan and Sofia were part of my childhood. We studied together from the early school years, our parents knew each other, we went to the same houses, the same birthday parties. For a long time, it seemed inevitable that we'd stay close. But at some point, everything simply unraveled. There was no clear fight, no dramatic breakup—just silence. I hadn't spoken to him since the end of high school.
"Hey, Ethan. Long time. How are you?" I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral.
"I'm good. Taking the exam now?"
"Yeah. You too?"
"Yeah."
The conversation died there. A heavy silence settled between us, as if any extra word might touch something we both preferred to avoid. He scratched the back of his neck—an old, almost automatic gesture—before continuing.
"After the exam, there's a get-together with some people I know, at a karaoke bar. Want to go? For old times' sake."
I stayed silent for a few seconds, weighing the invitation more than the intention behind it. It wasn't really desire. It wasn't nostalgia either. Maybe curiosity. Maybe recklessness.
"Well… I don't see a reason to say no."
Ethan smiled, satisfied, as if he'd already expected that answer.
"Perfect. Let's meet here after the exam, okay?"
"Okay."
He checked his watch and hurried off. I did the same. The exam was about to start.
It went smoothly. Nothing impressive, nothing disastrous. I left with the feeling that I'd at least pass. When I exited the building, Ethan was already waiting for me, leaning against the same bench where I'd been earlier. We headed to the karaoke bar together. On the way, he talked a lot—old stories, school memories, light comments. I listened more than I spoke. Nostalgia came mixed with a quiet sadness. It had always been like this: Ethan at the center of attention, me orbiting around.
In recent weeks, something had changed. My name had started circulating more—Vanessa, Olivia, the fight at the party, the video. I was surprised he didn't mention any of it. I knew he knew.
The karaoke bar wasn't far. We arrived quickly.
We entered one of the private rooms. The lighting was low, with colored lights flashing irregularly. Sofas lined the walls, and a central table was cluttered with cups, bottles, cans of drinks, and a few packs of cigarettes. The smell was a mix of cheap alcohol and strong perfume.
Ethan, as always, seemed at home. He was greeted enthusiastically by his friends—loud hellos, exaggerated laughter. Guys, some women. He quickly dissolved into the group, as if I'd never walked in with him.
His friends didn't make much effort to include me either. At most, a quick greeting, looks that passed over me without really seeing me. I sat on one of the sofas, quiet, feeling that old sense of displacement. It was like being back in high school, sitting in the corner while others shined.
The urge to leave started to grow.
"You haven't changed at all."
The voice came soft but direct, right beside me.
Green eyes, blonde hair, elegant posture. Sofia.
My childhood friend. My first love—if I can call it that. I liked her in a quiet, contained way, and gave up when I realized I'd never be enough. At some point, she grew cold toward me. I never understood why. We hadn't spoken since high school.
"Hey, Sofia. Long time," I said, forcing a natural tone.
"Yeah. We study at the same university and never talk. How's your life?"
I swallowed the words that immediately came to mind. I wanted to say it was her who caused this distance, who built the wall between us. But I didn't want conflict. Not there.
We talked about superficial things—college, classes, mutual acquaintances—while Ethan's friends sang horribly, off-key and loud. I ordered something to drink. Since it was still Tuesday, I chose a soda. I didn't want to lose control.
The large, cold cup arrived. I took a few sips, trying to relax.
That's when I felt it.
A persistent stare.
A girl was watching me from across the room. The look wasn't curious—it was evaluative. Uncomfortable. Shortly after, she stood up and came over, sitting beside me without asking. She had bangs, shoulder-length hair, and a strange smile.
"You're the hero from the video, right?"
I understood immediately. The party video. The fight.
I answered vaguely, trying not to completely cut off my conversation with Sofia. I knew how she was. She didn't like being ignored. The girl seemed satisfied for a few seconds, then stood up abruptly.
"Well, whatever. I've done what I needed to do."
She went back to her seat, leaving me confused. When I looked at Sofia, she was on her phone, but there was something different in her expression. A faint smile. Strangely satisfied.
We kept talking. I finished my soda. I checked the time—almost 10 p.m.
I decided to stay a bit longer. That was a mistake.
Soon after, I started sweating cold. A strange sickness spread through my body, far too fast to be normal. Sofia noticed.
"Are you okay?"
I said I needed some air. I left the room. My vision began to blur. The floor felt distant. I don't remember much after that—just the silhouette of a woman approaching.
When I regained consciousness, I was in an extremely tidy room. Pink everywhere. Clearly a female bedroom.
Panic hit when I tried to move.
I was tied to a chair.
My heart raced. I scanned the room, looking for any clue. Then a chill ran through my entire body. Photos of me covered the wall.
"You're finally awake."
The voice was soft.
And for some reason, that made everything even more terrifying.