The drive was short, but to Ryan it felt endless. The silence stretched between them like a taut wire. Adrian hummed softly along to the music playing, the notes low and calm, but he didn't steal a glance at Ryan. Every now and then, Ryan's eyes darted toward him, catching the faint curve of his smirk, the way his hands rested casually on the steering wheel, the effortless authority he exuded even behind the wheel.
Ryan dared not speak. Not a word. He feared breaking the silence might ruin the only chance he had, the only thread connecting him to his desperate hope.
A notification buzzed on his phone. Ethan. Where are you?
Ryan typed back carefully, In a car with someone… not sure where we're headed.
Before he could send it, Adrian's calm, deep voice cut across the hum of the engine: "Hop off."
Ryan looked around, blinking. They were parked at a garage, dimly lit. The building above was tall, sleek and completely foreign to him. Without asking, he slid out of the car and followed Adrian. Each step felt measured, purposeful, and he tried not to stumble over the tension coiling in his chest.
They took the elevator, rising floor by floor, the soft hum and occasional ding accentuating the long ride. Ryan's stomach knotted with nerves and curiosity. When the doors slid open, they revealed a long, dark hallway. Small lights flickered on as they walked, illuminating the way past the polished wooden porches of apartments that seemed luxurious even from the outside.
Adrian stopped in front of a door, swiping a keycard. The door clicked, swung open, and he stepped inside. Ryan followed meekly, jaw practically dropping.
The apartment was… unreal. High ceilings, wide open spaces, floor-to-ceiling windows with city lights glittering beyond. Modern furniture in muted tones lined the living area — sleek couches, a polished wooden table, soft lighting that seemed to glow just right. A kitchen gleamed with stainless steel appliances, and on one side, a staircase curved elegantly upward, hinting at another level. The scent of fresh linen and subtle fragrance lingered in the air.
Ryan's mind instinctively compared it to his own family home. This wasn't just above-average. This was beyond imagination — rooms bigger than his family's entire living space, decor that whispered of wealth and taste he'd only glimpsed in magazines or social media. He felt like an intruder, both thrilled and acutely aware of how small, how out of place, he was in this world.
He drifted for a moment in thought, letting his eyes roam over the massive living room, the subtle art on the walls, the pristine wooden floors… before Adrian's voice, calm but sharp, cut through it all. "What's your name?"
"Ryan," he whispered.
"Why do you want me to tutor you?" Adrian asked, shrugging slightly, almost casually, as if discussing a trivial matter. "There are plenty of others out there. You can meet them."
Ryan swallowed hard. "You're the only senior I know of. And I know how to meet you."
Adrian hummed softly, eyes narrowing slightly, the faintest curve of amusement tugging at his lips. "Hmmm…" He went silent, gaze fixed on Ryan, who sat on the edge of the couch, knees drawn up, trying to make himself smaller, yet somehow impossible to ignore.
Adrian stepped forward, slow and deliberate. Ryan's face lifted, and suddenly he felt the full weight of Adrian's towering presence. Adrian leaned closer, his dark eyes locking onto Ryan's — wide, pleading, and impossibly vulnerable. Those large, round eyes seemed to pull at him, tug at some part of Adrian he rarely let surface.
"You said you'd do anything," Adrian murmured, the words low, deliberate, and not a question.
Ryan could only whisper, "Yeah."
Adrian leaned closer, his movement measured, inexorable. Ryan felt himself pressed back, until the couch cradled his spine, every muscle taut with anticipation and confusion. Adrian didn't stop. One hand landed on the couch beside Ryan's head, bracing himself, pinning him subtly but unmistakably. The proximity, the heat, the barely contained power, stirred something in Ryan he didn't know how to name.
Before he could process the flood of thoughts, the unexpected, impossibly close warmth pressed to him — Adrian's lips brushed against his, firm yet careful, claiming the space with a confidence that left Ryan's heart hammering and his mind spinning.
Ryan froze at first, chest tightening, mind going blank. The unexpected press of Adrian's lips left him reeling — warm, commanding, impossible to resist. He wanted to pull back, to question what was happening, but his body refused.
Adrian held the kiss just long enough to test, not to overwhelm, then pulled back slightly, his dark eyes studying Ryan with a faint smirk. It wasn't teasing, exactly — more like measured curiosity. "Relax," he murmured, his voice low, his gaze lingered on Ryan, sharp and unreadable. "Or… you don't like this?"
Ryan blinked, heart hammering, mind spinning. Does he like it? He didn't know. It wasn't unpleasant — his lips tasted faintly of mint and beer, warm and sharp. "I… I don't know," he muttered.
Without a word, Adrian leaned back in, pressing his lips against Ryan's again, this time with more urgency, a faster rhythm. Ryan's breath hitched, his chest tight, but his mind wasn't thinking about the fact that this was his first kiss. Only a sharp, wild question kept running through it: Why is Adrian kissing me all of a sudden?
He was running out of air. He tried gently pushing at Adrian to steal a moment to breathe, but Adrian's eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, the faintest flash of annoyance crossing his face. "I'm sorry… I didn't… I didn't mean—" Ryan stammered.
"You didn't mean what?" Adrian pulled back slightly, moving away.
Ryan's panic spiked. He caught Adrian's index finger, holding it desperately. "I'm really sorry," he pleaded, nearly on the verge of tears, voice shaking, "for pushing you away."
Adrian jerked his hands free, cool and sharp. "Just… forget it. You've spoiled the mood."
Ryan's mind spun. Tutoring. Grades. He was supposed to be focused, and instead his heart pounded as if it might burst. He was caught in Adrian's gravity, confused, scared, and… drawn.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ryan reached for Adrian's hands again, holding them firmly. "Please…" he whispered, desperate. "I… I won't refuse anymore. I'm sorry." His eyes locked on Adrian's, silently pleading, daring him to see the sincerity, the desperation.
Adrian's expression softened just a fraction, a sigh escaping him. He tossed his phone toward Ryan. "Put your contact in. I'll text you." His tone was no longer sharp; it carried a calm finality. Relief washed over Ryan as he hurriedly typed his number.
Adrian turned toward the door. "You can leave."
Ryan hesitated, a weird mix of doubt and fear rooting him in place. Was this really over? Was this the last he'd see of him tonight? Before he could question himself further, Adrian spoke again, his voice calm, almost reassuring: "I said I'll text you… or do you want to spend the night here?"
Ryan's chest tightened, but he muttered a quick, "Thank you," and left, heart still racing, feeling like any small misstep could set Adrian off again.
Ryan's steps were heavy, each one feeling like he was carrying more than just his body weight. Weakness clung to his limbs, and his chest ached with a strange mix of exhaustion and adrenaline. The streets were dark, the silence pressing, only broken by the occasional distant hum of a car. Buses weren't running at this hour, and the few pedestrians he saw moved quickly, keeping to themselves. Every memory of the night — Adrian's apartment, the conversation, the kiss — replayed relentlessly in his mind, making him pause more than once.
He finally decided to book an online taxi, fingers trembling as he navigated the app. The ride back felt endless; the car swayed over uneven roads, and every shadow seemed to echo the tension he couldn't shake. By the time he reached the hostel, he was utterly drained, the faint soreness in his chest reminding him of every step he'd taken tonight.
Ethan was waiting, eyes wide with curiosity and worry. "Ryan, what the heck happened? What happened to you? I kept calling and texting but you weren't even picking up."
Ryan blinked, lifting his phone. Fifteen missed calls. Seven unread messages. He had been so absorbed in the night's chaos that he hadn't even noticed his phone — still on DND — buzzing endlessly. "Uh… sorry about that," he said slowly, trying to sound normal.
"So… what happened? How did you and Adrian go?"
Ryan hesitated, keeping his voice even, careful. "He said he'd get back to me. He took my number." He left out everything else — the walk to the car, the apartment, how his heart had raced, even the kiss. Those moments were private, something he couldn't let anyone see.
Ethan pursed his lips, nodding slowly. "Well… that's progress, I guess. Did he say when?"
"Nah," Ryan replied reluctantly and began climbing to his bunk.
"Hey… man, you sure you're good?"
Ryan didn't respond. He rolled up his blankets tightly, silencing Ethan before he could pry any further. He tried to fall asleep, but the memories kept replaying, looping like a film he couldn't pause. The weight of the night lingered, heavy and inescapable.
Ryan woke up but didn't move immediately. He lay in bed for another twenty minutes, staring at the ceiling, mind spinning. Last night's events refused to let him off the hook. Something had happened between him and Adrian, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn't deny it. Why had Adrian done that? Was it just to tease him, to scare him… or something else entirely?
He heaved a sigh — the nineteenth of the morning — and tossed on the bed, restless. His buzzing phone drew his attention. Heart hammering, he grabbed it, praying for the message he'd been waiting for since waking. It was from his sister. He ignored it. Talking to family right now felt like adding a weight to his already burdened neck.
"Adrian had promised to reach out… but why hasn't he?" Ryan murmured to himself. "Was it just an empty promise? Maybe he was dissatisfied with me… that's why he had to give me a false sense of hope…" He tossed the pillow over his head, burying his face.
"Should I have pressed until I got a certainty?" he wondered. "Thinking back… he only said he'd reach out, but he never specified when. So… not hearing from him now doesn't mean he broke his promise, right? But… how long am I supposed to wait?"
"Ryan," Ethan's voice broke through, calm but teasing, "you've been tossing, sighing, and staring at the ceiling all morning. You sure you're good?"
Ryan stayed silent, watching Ethan pack his books into a bag.
"This is 9:30. Are you not attending the morning lecture?"
Reality hit like a slap. Dr. Mensah had strictly warned him about attendance — missing lectures, especially a morning one, was out of the question. Panic flared. Ryan shot out of bed. "I'm going! Fuck, what was I thinking?" He ran a hand over his face, heart still hammering. "Just help me sign attendance if I don't get there on time. I can't risk missing it."
"Alright. See ya," Ethan said, giving him a look that balanced amusement and concern.
Ryan sighed, a mix of nerves and determination, and stepped into the shower, letting the water wash away the remnants of restless thoughts — though deep down, he knew his mind would inevitably drift back to Adrian before the day was over.
Just as Ryan had predicted, he arrived late.
The lecture hall was already half-empty, the professor's voice echoing faintly as Ryan slipped in through the back door, thirty minutes before the end. He'd started preparing too late, and the distance from his hostel to the lecture hall didn't help. He scanned the room until he spotted Ethan a few rows down, head bent, pen moving quickly across his notebook.
Ryan already knew those weren't lecture notes. Ethan had a habit, or maybe a talent, of sketching in the margins of his notebook whenever lectures dragged. Ryan sometimes wondered why he was studying Business Administration instead of something in the arts. He dropped into the seat beside him and leaned over.
"Attendance?" he whispered.
Ethan didn't look up. "It wasn't possible," he replied, still scribbling. "I don't know why he decided to take attendance first thing today. Usually he does it like twenty minutes in. I didn't even get mine. I came in ten minutes late."
He tried to focus on the lecture, but it was useless. His mind kept drifting, pulled back to Adrian, to last night, to the unanswered promise. It wasn't even entirely his fault. Walking in halfway through made everything sound disjointed. Maybe if he'd arrived on time, followed the lecture from the start, it would've been easier. But now the words sounded like noise.
The lecture ended almost as soon as it began. For Ryan, at least.
He and Ethan headed to the cafeteria for lunch. The space was wide and bright, filled with the low conversations and the clatter of trays. At the buffet section, Ethan lit up, pointing at the food with exaggerated interest.
"I swear, nothing beats proper grilled chicken," he said, piling food onto his plate. "The crispy skin, the seasoning soaked all the way through, that smoky taste. Add fries and a decent sauce and you're set for life. Too bad the cafeteria always messes it up."
Ryan huffed and listened quietly. He loved food too, but he'd never been one to talk about it. Talking about likes and cravings felt indulgent, like a luxury he couldn't afford.
Ethan kept rambling as they scanned the cafeteria for an empty table, trays balanced in their hands.
"…I'm telling you, one of these days we should ditch this place and go to Bellé Noir. I heard their—". His voice trailed off.
Ryan had stopped walking.
A familiar figure had just entered the cafeteria.
Adrian.
Behind him was another tall figure Ryan barely registered. The effect was immediate. Whispers rippled through the room.
"Adrian…"
"That's Dylan…"
"Is that Val?"
The noise rose, but Ryan barely registered it.
Nothing else mattered. Not the murmurs spreading across the room, not Ethan beside him, not the tray growing heavy in his hands, not even the second person walking beside Adrian. His eyes locked onto Adrian instinctively, his heart tightening before he could stop it
The anxiety from the night before crept back in, settling deep in his chest — the anxiety he had been struggling to suppress. He tried to steady himself as he watched Adrian stride in his direction. Hope tugged at him, thin but persistent.
If Adrian would just look at him.
That was all Ryan wanted. Not a conversation. Not an approach. Just a glance. Proof that Adrian would notice him even when Ryan wasn't the one stepping forward. Proof that Adrian didn't only remember him when Ryan made himself visible.
But Adrian walked past him.
No pause. No flicker of recognition. Nothing.
It felt like the night before had been erased with a single step. Like it hadn't mattered at all. Ryan stood frozen, tray heavy in his hands, his mind blank for a split second before everything rushed back in all at once. Every doubt. Every question. Every fragile hope collapsing in on itself.
"Hey."
Ryan blinked.
Ethan stood in front of him, waving a hand in his face, his food tray on the other hand. "You good? You've been standing there like a mannequin. Aren't you going to eat?"
He nudged Ryan lightly. "Or were you dazzled by the view?"
"Can you stop?" Ryan snapped, more sharply than he meant to. His voice dropped as they pulled out chairs and sat. "You know it's not like that."
Ethan studied him but said nothing.
"You said he'd reach out," Ethan said eventually.
Ryan stared at his plate, stabbing at a piece of grilled chicken before taking a bite. "Nah."
His tone was casual.
He wasn't casual at all.
The weight of it sat heavy in his chest, pressing down with every second Adrian didn't look back
"So what's your plan?" Ethan asked. "You're giving up?"
"Yeah, I am." Ryan leaned back in his chair. "I'm done doing the chasing. I'll just wait." His fingers tapped lightly against the table before he leaned forward again, words spilling out faster. "I don't even get why Adrian is being so hard. It's not like I'm asking him out. I just need help. He didn't have to be that mean."
"Well," Ethan said, shrugging, "asking him to dedicate his time to tutoring you is something." He tilted his head. "Honestly, I get him. I wouldn't do that for just anyone either."
That made Ryan laugh. "Like anyone would ever ask you to tutor them." His laugh grew. "That's basically academic suicide. Be serious." He scoffed. "And it's not like I'm asking for free tutoring."
"He already told you you can't afford it," Ethan shot back, laughing. "Anyway, since you're done chasing, why don't you try something else?" His tone shifted, quieter, more deliberate. "There's a BAD party happening this week. You should go."
"I'm not going," Ryan said immediately. "You know I'm not the party type."
"Yeah, I know. You've said that about ninety-seven times." Ethan rolled his eyes. "But it won't kill you to try something different. You don't have to live like a machine stuck on one routine." He leaned in. "And think about it. Networking. You need a tutor. Adrian isn't budging. There's a department party where most of the upperclassmen will be. Problem solved. You go, you find someone eligible, end of story."
Ryan fell silent, mulling it over. Ethan wasn't wrong. Clinging to one option clearly wasn't working. Still, the thought of skipping his part-time job and losing money made his chest tighten.
"Fine," he said at last, reluctant.
"For real?" Ethan's eyes widened, surprise flickering into excitement. "Wow. Mark the calendar. Ryan voluntarily attending a party."
"Don't get used to it," Ryan muttered. "I'm not suddenly becoming social. This is the last time."
"Well, you never know." Ethan grinned. "You might go once and decide the club is your second home." He paused, then added, "And relax. You don't have to talk to everyone. Just show up. Blend in. Observe like some weird introverted spy." He laughed at his own joke.
Ryan snorted softly. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"Obviously. This is growth," Ethan said in a mock-serious tone. Then his voice softened a little. "And even if you don't find a tutor, at least you'll stop orbiting one person." He shrugged. "Pretty sure I'm your only friend on campus at this point."
"I do have other friends," Ryan snapped, a bit too fast. He frowned. "And didn't you used to be all over Adrian? What's with the sudden switch? The Ethan I know would be telling me to keep pursuing him."
Ethan scoffed. "Bro code." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "I'm not siding with Adrian over you." Then, quieter still, hand half-covering his mouth, "He's still my ult though. Just… not in this situation."
Ryan raised an eyebrow but didn't push it. "Whatever you say."
He leaned back, eyes drifting to the half-eaten food on his tray. He hadn't lied when he said he was done chasing. He meant it. What he hadn't said was how draining it felt, carrying someone in his head all day, hoping for something small, something simple, and letting that hope wreck his focus and his time.
"I'll go," he said again, softer. "But just for a bit."
He told himself it was strategy. Practicality. Choosing a different route instead of running into the same wall over and over.
Still, a stubborn thought lingered at the back of his mind.
If Adrian noticed him there without Ryan making the first move…
That would mean something.
That would mean something. And since he didn't… Ryan finally has his answer
Or at least that was what he told himself as the noise in the cafeteria crept back in around him..
Ryan finished barely half his meal.
He wrapped the rest in foil out of habit, knowing full well it would sit in the hostel fridge until it grew suspicious and got thrown out. He didn't care. Eating suddenly felt like a task he'd accepted under protest.
Outside the cafeteria, the afternoon sun was too bright. People moved around campus with purpose, laughing, complaining, existing loudly. It annoyed him a little how normal everything felt. Like nothing had happened at all.
On the walk back, Ethan talked about the party again, about who might show up, about how BAD parties were either painfully boring or wildly chaotic with no in-between. Ryan listened with half an ear. He found himself counting steps instead. Cracks on the pavement. The sound of someone skateboarding past. A flyer taped crookedly to a notice board advertising a debate night he'd never attend.
It helped. Focusing on things that didn't ask anything of him.
By evening, he was back in the hostel. Ethan left shortly after, claiming he'd "be productive for once," which Ryan doubted but didn't comment on. The room felt larger without him. Quieter too.
Ryan sat on his bed and pulled off his shoes, lining them up carefully even though no one else would notice. He checked his phone then. Not expecting anything. Just checking.
Nothing.
He scrolled mindlessly for a few minutes, paused on a video of someone trying to cook pasta in a kettle, snorted despite himself, then locked the screen again.
It wasn't that the cafeteria moment crushed him. It just… clarified things in an uncomfortable way. He didn't like realizing how much weight he'd put on a glance. How easily his focus had narrowed around one person without permission.
He lay back and stared at the ceiling, tracing faint cracks with his eyes. Somewhere down the hall, someone was arguing on the phone. Somewhere outside, music played faintly from a passing car.
Tomorrow would come whether he sorted this out or not.
He turned onto his side and pulled the blanket up, deciding not to solve anything tonight. No conclusions. No strategies. Just rest.
If answers were coming, they could find him later.
For now, this chapter was done.