Alone in the library, Charles had fallen asleep with a book on forensic science open on his lap. A gentle tap on his shoulder stirred him awake.
As Charles opened his eyes, he was shocked.
Not because he was startled or frightened, but because the person waking him up was the very face that refused to leave his mind—no matter what he was doing. Bathing, eating, walking—even while studying, that face distracted him.
His name was Mourice Lahm.
"It's 8 PM. The library's about to close. If you still need to read more, I can help you borrow it," Mourice smirked.
"Oh, yeah… sure." Charles yawned as Mourice turned back toward the receptionist's desk.
Since when has he been working here? Charles wondered as he packed his belongings into his rucksack.
He walked carefully to the front desk, where Mourice was wrapping up for the night, preparing to close the library.
Charles placed the forensic science book on the table so Mourice could process the loan.
"Is this all?" Mourice raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly—just enough to make Charles want to bite something in frustration. Not only was Mourice athletic and muscular, but he also excelled at everything he did. He was everyone's ideal type, and no one could blame them for thinking so.
"Yeah," Charles replied curtly, trying his hardest not to look obviously flustered when Mourice glanced at him.
After entering the book's data into the system, Mourice smirked. "Apparently, they were right. You basically live in the library."
That statement shocked Charles. Why is he talking like that? Did he… notice me?
"Yeah..." Charles smirked back, trying to play it cool.
"Unhygienic roommates are tough, aren't they?" Mourice added, another strangely specific comment.
Charles looked up, his surprise obvious. Mourice smirked again, winked at him, then turned around and walked off to finish cleaning up the library.
"What was that?" Charles muttered to himself as he walked out, unable to stop smiling. Does this mean my crush actually notices me?
Did he just give me a hint that… he's interested too?
But on the next day when he saw Mourice sits together with his girlfriend in the classroom, kissing and teasing, doubts creeps in back.
Nah, of course not, Charles thought to himself. He probably just being him, a mysterious genius with unexpected and full of surprise. and me?
Beside Charles, Jacques yawns, he just woke up from sleep again, after the whole night sneaking out somewhere, wherever it was.
I'm stuck with this giant germs.
Maybe it's all that I deserve, I need to keep myself in check and avoid to put my hope up high.
But wait. Why would Mourice even knows every details about him including Jacques unhygiene habits if he doesnt care? Maybe he was hinting to Charles that he also interested after all!
Hold on, Charles! Maybe he was just hearing rumors, or secretly close to Jacques.
When Charles look at Mourice direction again, he was shocked to realized that Mourice is looking at him when his girlfriend is writing and focus on the lesson. and not only that, Mourice winks and smirk before he also returning his attention to the lector.
What the actual f---?
***
Charles's heart jumped with excitement when he spotted Mourice at the library's front desk, organizing a stack of returned books. He was busy rearranging them in order, completely unaware of Charles standing a few steps away, gathering his nerve.
This is stupid!
No, it's just a conversation!
Charles took a deep breath and dropped the book onto the front desk, right in front of Mourice.
Mourice glanced up and smirked. "Hey, what's up?"
Charles shifted his weight slightly. "Uhm… I'm returning the book."
"I can see that. Hold on a sec." Mourice took the book and typed something into the computer to update the system, marking the book as returned.
He looked back at Charles and raised an eyebrow. "Anything else?"
Do it! Just fucking do it! Charles pushed himself, but self-doubt crept in like a shadow. His face tensed for a moment before he shook his head. Never mind. This is stupid.
"Thanks." That was all he managed to say before turning on his heel and leaving the library. He ran straight back to the dorm.
Yeah, why would he be interested in me? Charles scowled at himself. I'm just a boring nerd with zero friends, and he's literally a celebrity in the academy. Everybody loves him. Boys want to be like him, girls want a piece of him. Why would he waste his time with someone like me?
When Charles returned to the dorm, he found Jacques still at his desk, designing something. How useless. If he liked design so much, he should have gone to design school instead of the police academy. What's he even doing here? Wasting his time?
***
Jacques was in the bathroom, showering while brushing his teeth, when a message popped up on his phone. He stepped out from behind the shower curtain and dried his hands with a towel before checking it.
It was from someone named Ethan; "Hey, remember the festival I told you about yesterday? It's tonight. Wanna check it out?"
Jacques's face lit up as he texted back; "I want to, but I'm going with my boyfriend. Wanna come along? We can have a threesome—or a foursome if you bring your boyfriend too."
Of course, he was joking. He only sent that because he knew Ethan was against anything freaky or kinky. He just wanted to mess with him.
Ethan's reply made Jacques laugh; "Stop watching p0rn! omg!!"
He could practically imagine Ethan rolling his eyes and blushing. If they were side by side, Ethan would've already slapped his shoulder by now.
Then Jacques heard the dorm door open. Charles must've returned. He quickly finished rinsing off and stepped out to catch up with him.
"Hey, you're back," Jacques said, looking up from drying his hair with a hopeful smile.
But Charles barely acknowledged it.
I wish it was Mourice smiling at me right now, he thought, and then proceed to remind himself: I'm not worthy.
Without a word, he threw himself onto the bunk.
Jacques turned his chair around, resting his ankle on his knee. "You look wasted."
"I'm just tired. The exam is in a few days."
"You study a lot, I know." Jacques smirked. "But once our spaceship is finished, you won't have to worry about exams anymore. We'll be out there, cruising through space—romance, adventure, and freedom!"
Charles exhaled sharply. That's a fancy way of saying 'homeless.'
Does he seriously think I want to join him in that childish, unrealistic life? What does he think this is—an anime? What an idiot.
He rolled his eyes.
Jacques noticed and sighed. "Okay, you're clearly in a bad mood." He stood up. "Get dressed. I'm taking you somewhere."
Charles barely glanced at him. "Where?" His voice lacked any enthusiasm.
"Somewhere fun. It's Saturday—everyone's out enjoying themselves. The weekend festival is at the end of the street. We can make some good memories, have fun, and let go of all this stress." Jacques pulled on his jacket and grabbed his long pants.
Charles sighed. "Jacques, I don't think it's a good idea. I'm just tired. I need rest." He turned onto his side, showing his back to Jacques.
But Jacques wouldn't take no for an answer. Without warning, he grabbed Charles's feet and yanked him out of bed.
"Let me go, you fool!" Charles swung his arms, trying to hit Jacques, but Jacques dodged effortlessly.
"You're burned out, and it's my job to chill you down. Now come on!"
***
The weekend festival was bursting with life. The streets were lined with vibrant attractions, each corner filled with something new to see. Street performers entertained the crowd—musicians strummed lively tunes, dancers moved with effortless grace, and acrobats flipped through the air, drawing cheers from onlookers.
Stalls offered a variety of street foods, some from distant planets, their exotic aromas mixing in the air, tempting passersby to indulge in flavors they'd never experienced before. Everywhere, laughter and chatter blended into a constant hum of excitement.
Everyone was having a blast.
Except for Charles.
He is completely out of sync with it. He trailed slightly behind Jacques, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. People brushed past him, moving with excitement, Charles completely out of place.
Jacques, on the other hand, embraced everything with wide, excited eyes—fully immersed in the moment. He greeted vendors, watched performances with childlike wonder, and even clapped along with the music, trying to pull Charles into the vibe, into the air of celebration.
But Charles sighed. This is so stupid. What am I even doing here?
He couldn't shake off the regret of not asking Mourice out. Maybe Mourice would have said no—or maybe, he would have said yes. There had at least been a chance. But now? Now it was a guaranteed rejection.
"There's a whack-a-mole! Let's play!" Jacques pointed toward it, grinning.
Charles's response was flat: "When are we going home?"
"Charles, we just got here," Jacques reminded him, still patient. "What do you like? Let's grab it. Books? I'll see if there's anything book-related around. Maybe they even have a library stand—oh look, I found something!"
He pointed at a yellow tent lit up by LED strips along the edges. It was a tarot reading booth, and a sign in curly, whimsical letters read: "Is he the one?"
"Oh yes, I'm dying to know that," Charles muttered under his breath, instantly thinking of Mourice.
Without waiting, Jacques took Charles's hand and pulled him toward the fortune teller's tent. But as they stepped inside, Charles froze.
A familiar face was already there, seated casually and waiting for their turn.
Charles couldn't believe it.
It was Mourice.
And his girlfriend.
"Let's whack stupid moles instead," Charles muttered, about to leave the tent when Mourice stopped him.
"Hey, you two are here?"
"No, we aren't," Jacques replied sarcastically, folding his arms. He disliked Mourice—always had. Mourice was a hypocrite. He clearly preferred muscles and abs over curves, yet here he was, playing the straight boyfriend role while sneaking around behind her back.
"Hi, Jacques!" Danielle greeted cheerfully.
Jacques winked at her—not flirtatiously, just casually. It was obvious he wasn't into women.
"Hah! I knew you two had something going on," Danielle laughed in the cutest way. It made Jacques want to beat Mourice senseless. How dare he play with such a sweet girl like Danielle?
"No, we're just hanging out. He's just an idiot who brought an introvert into an introvert's hell," Charles said, already standing at the tent's entrance, ready to bail. But the fact that he hadn't left yet sent a clear signal to Mourice.
"Come on, let's do this fun reading. You don't have to believe it—it's just for fun!" Mourice urged.
Charles hesitated, then slowly stepped back inside, like a suspicious stray cat cautiously taking food from a human's hand.
Just then, the current querent finished their session and exited the tent. Madam Suria's assistant appeared and nodded to Mourice and Danielle. "Next couple, please proceed."
As Mourice and Danielle stood up, Mourice turned around and said, "How about a double couple reading instead?"
Danielle pinched his arm. "How is that even possible?"
Mourice looked over at Madam Suria. "Is that possible?"
Madam Suria, calmly smoking rose-weed, blew out a soft puff of smoke. Her face remained serene as she gazed at each of the four one by one. Then, a small smirk curled on her lips.
"Sure."