Verse 4

Now, let’s rewind time just a bit. Earlier that day before I met Malik.

Remember the chick with “oe” sounding name. her name is actually Elena, trust me am as surprised as you.

Anyway, after that brief encounter where she—graciously, I might add—tried to help me find my way, I somehow got lost again. Classic. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention… okay, I definitely wasn’t paying attention, but hey—navigating new environments while socially combusting internally is hard.

The second time around I swallowed before asking her for help. She was standing in a line full of people for some reason and that was like the worst thing for me. I don’t like groups, you know, like groups of people huddled together talking, laughing, it infuriates me. I think it’s because I know deep down that I really want to be apart of them. Or maybe I am just an introvert who hates interaction. Not everything needs to psycho-analyzed all the time.

I spotted her by her shoes—bright, bubblegum-pink Jordan 4s. 

I failed to mention that I have a bit of a problem with eye contact. I know, not ideal for human interaction, but it does come with unexpected perks—like spotting cool kicks or ants doing military drills on pavement cracks. It’s the craziest thing, did you know ants can lift up to fifty times their own weight.

I took a deep breath, tapped her shoulder—and she turned. She had dull grey headphones around her neck and a bright aura. Literally — she wore this ridiculous sunflower jacket that made her look like she came straight out of a summer dream.

“Hi,” she said flashing a grin that could legally be considered a form of emotional assault.

I swear am not making this up, she literally glowed.

“If it isn’t Mr. Davis,” she added, sticking her hand out like we were old friends. “Still alive, I see.”

Her teeth were remarkable. Beautiful Pearly whites.

In all that haze, I hadn't realized that I had told her my name…and that she remembered it. I felt kinda bad that I couldn’t remember hers.

“Y-yeah. Uhm… It’s nice to meet you. Again,” I said, my voice doing that tremble thing it does when I’m trying too hard to be a functional person. “I-I was wondering if you could, uh, maybe show me—again—where the admin building is?”

She tilted her head, amused.
“I knew you were gonna forget. You had that glazed donut look in your eyes.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a colorful brochure like it was a magic trick.

“To be honest I am kinda hurt you didn’t remember what I said but I’ll let it slide because…” she leaned in tapping my headphones, “we match.”

I didn’t even notice but we had the same, exact Orion Headphones. 

The brochure had the open mic event that the Freshers were throwing together, yes, the same one Malik would invite me to later on.

It was around 12:30 PM. Hardly two hours since we all arrived here. How did they even find the time to create this event? Was I not aware of a group chat or something?

“Hey! No cuts in line!” Some random guy behind us decided to ruin the vibe.

My heart did the thing—tight chest, cold sweat. I hate confrontation. I hate being noticed. I was already bracing myself to slink away when—

“He’s not cutting,” Elena said, grabbing my hand and pulling me gently behind her. “I was saving his spot.”

Her hand was warm.
And soft.
And this was way too intimate for my comfort levels…
But also kinda perfect?
She smelled like citrus and something floral. Like… orange trees in bloom, I think. I have never smelt an orange tree I don’t know why I used that as an example.

“Actually,” I stammered, “I just wanted to get to the admin building and sign in for my room.”

She leaned back toward me and whispered, her breath tickling my cheek.

“This is the line for the admin building.”

I looked up. Right in front of us, as bold as the universe laughing in my face, was a giant “Welcome Freshers” banner and a sign that clearly read: ADMINISTRATION OFFICE.

I wanted to evaporate on the spot.

Back to business as usual. I put my headphones in and tried to zone out to some mellow indie playlist while the line inched forward like a slug with a limp. My back was killing me. But I had no right to complain, when I turned and saw the frustrated faces behind me. The line was long it practically curved towards the back end.

Then I felt a gentle tug on my sleeve.

I pulled one headphone lose of my ear.

“Hi,” she said, laughing. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

Oh no.
No, no, no.
Had she been talking this whole time?

My brain ran a hundred simulations of cool responses. I picked none of them.

“I… uh… Sorry?”

She chuckled, brushing her sunflower jacket back like a cape.
“I said, my name is Elena.”