Chapter 4: Learning to Register and when chocolate meet with nasi lemak

Darin’s Side – The Sleeping Legend

Ahhh…

I finally have some calming sleep.

My body melts into the wooden chair like it has surrendered to gravity.

The sunlight warms my face.

Birds chirp.

The library is quiet.

Too quiet.

I slowly open one eye.

Still peaceful.

I grab my Nokia 3310.

8:00 AM.

…

Registration is at 2 PM.

Six more hours.

Strategic nap confirmed.

I stretch.

Yawn loudly.

“Still early…”

I cross my arms again.

Head tilts.

Back to sleep.

Meanwhile…

Footsteps.

Whispers.

More footsteps.

The campus is waking up.

And I am still in my corner throne.

Except…

To outsiders…

It doesn’t look like a throne.

It looks like…

A hobo nest.

My military bag beside me.

Shoes slightly dirty from travel.

Oversized shirt.

Hair messy.

One arm hanging off the chair dramatically like I’ve given up on life.

A group of girls walk in.

They stop.

“…Since when is there a hobo here?” one whispers.

“Yo… are you serious? That guy is homeless…” a guy mutters.

“Don’t look… don’t look…”

“Is he still alive?”

There’s a pause.

“…Go wake him up.”

“Nope.”

“You do it.”

“Nope.”

“Rock-paper-scissors?”

“NOPE.”

One brave idiot steps closer.

He leans in slightly.

I snore.

Loud.

The echo bounces off the empty shelves.

He jumps back.

“BRO HE’S BREATHING!”

The girls squeal softly.

“He looks dangerous…”

“He looks broke.”

“He looks both.”

From the counter, the librarian slowly looks up.

He sees me.

Sees the crowd.

Adjusts glasses.

“…Talk about first impression.”

He doesn’t even bother waking me.

He just shakes his head.

Dina’s Side – Suspicious Beginnings

Meanwhile.

On the other side of campus destiny.

Mimi has secured her dorm.

Shared with Firda and Nira.

The room is lively.

Messy already.

Laughter bouncing off the walls.

Firda stretches dramatically on the bed.

“So, Dina… which college you going anyway?”

I pull out the crumpled paper.

“Here.”

They lean in.

“Cahaya Institute of Technology…”

Silence.

Nira squints.

“…Sounds fishy.”

Firda bursts out laughing.

“Yeah! Look at the logo! There’s no way orang puteh studying there! Hahahaha!”

I cross my arms.

“Very funny.”

Mimi frowns slightly.

“…Are you sure you want that place, sis?”

I look at the name again.

Cahaya.

Light.

Technology.

It sounds… decent.

Maybe.

“Maybe. I’m just waiting for the government nursing placement and audition. Might as well hang around instead of staying home.”

Firda flops on the bed dramatically.

“Might as well sleep here until 2 PM. Still early. It’s only 9 AM.”

I glance at the clock.

9:05 AM.

Too early to be responsible.

“Yeah… I know.”

Firda suddenly jumps up like she drank five cups of Milo.

“HEY!! Let’s hang around!! Explore campus!!”

Nira grins.

“Yes! Fresh meat season!”

Mimi laughs.

I sigh.

Exploring means…

People.

Boys.

Unnecessary conversations.

But also…

Information.

Fine.

“Let’s go.”

Back to Darin – The Awakening Disaster

Time passes.

More students enter the library.

The whisper count increases.

Someone takes a picture.

Flash.

My eyelids twitch.

Another flash.

I slowly open my eyes.

My vision blurry.

Shapes around me.

Shadows.

People.

Why are there so many people?

I sit up abruptly.

“WHAT YEAR IS IT?!”

Silence.

The entire library freezes.

A girl drops her pen.

A guy coughs.

I blink.

Focus returns.

Oh.

Library.

College.

Not apocalypse.

Good.

Bad news?

Everyone is staring at me.

Like I just rose from the dead.

“…What?” I ask.

No one answers.

They scatter.

The crowd disperses like pigeons.

The librarian walks over calmly.

“You know,” he says, “sleeping here before even registering is… unique.”

I rub my face.

“What time is it?”

He checks the wall clock.

“9:47 AM.”

I look around.

More students now.

Properly dressed.

Organized.

Carrying files.

Looking prepared.

Then there’s me.

Oversized shirt.

Wrinkled from sleep.

Hair like static electricity won.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

This is my first impression.

They think I’m homeless.

The librarian leans closer.

“You snore.”

“…Thank you.”

He walks away.

I stand up slowly.

I crack my neck.

Stretch my arms.

“Alright.”

New strategy.

Walk confidently.
Look like you belong.
Pretend you know everything.

I take one step—

“AHHHHH!!! I MISS MY CLASS!!!”

A blur in office attire rockets past me.

WHOOSH—

My world spins.

I turn 180 degrees like a broken Beyblade.

😵‍💫

“OI!!!!! WATCH WHERE YOU GOING!!!!” 💢

“SOORRYYYYYY!!!”

The guy keeps running.

He’s wearing a tie.

A TIE.

Office shirt.
Formal pants.
Polished shoes.

I blink.

Then I slowly look around.

Wait.

Why…

Why is everyone dressed like they’re about to attend a corporate meeting?

Girls in proper baju kurung.
Guys in tucked-in shirts.
Some even wearing blazers.

Is this college…

Or an audit inspection?

I look down at myself.

Oversized shirt.
Wrinkled.
Slightly travel-stained.
Hair still rebellious.

Oh no.

I’m underdressed.

Massively underdressed.

Was there a memo?
A uniform policy?
A secret rule?

Did Mom not tell me this part on purpose?!

I feel exposed.

Like a transfer student in Episode 1 of every anime.

The Registration Transformation

Suddenly—

Chairs start moving.

Tables dragged.

Desks aligned.

Clipboards appear.

Pens distributed.

The empty lobby transforms into a registration battlefield.

What is this efficiency?!

Were they hiding in storage?!

One of the guys waves at me.

“Hey! You new here?”

He walks over confidently.

Hair styled.
Tie straight.
Smile rehearsed.

“I’m Jack.”

Of course you are.

That’s the most cliché name possible.

“Hi…” I reply cautiously.

He extends his hand.

We shake.

His grip tightens.

Strong.

Very strong.

Is this a handshake?

Or a dominance test?

My eyebrow twitches.

Oh.

So we’re doing strength comparison now?

Fine.

I subtly tighten my grip.

Just enough.

We stare at each other.

Smile vs neutral expression.

Silent power struggle.

He releases first.

Point for Sabah.

“Anyway, have fun here, okay? It looks empty, but we’re all pursuing knowledge,” Jack says like he rehearsed that line in front of a mirror.

Right…

Looks empty because it IS empty.

“Okay… so may I know where I register?” I ask.

“Oh! Since you’re the earliest, might as well we start with you!”

Earliest?

I look around.

Everyone is here already.

I am not early.

I am just confused.

Another guy appears and grabs my shoulder like we’re childhood friends.

“Is he the new freshman?”

“Yep!”

Why is everyone so energetic this early?

“Right! So your name?”

“Uh… Darin.”

The guy laughs loudly.

“Hahaha! You’re nervous right?”

Am I that obvious?!

Jack jumps in.

“Well it’s normal la! He’s new here, of course he’s nervous!”

They both look at me.

Smiling.

Waiting for confirmation.

This is a trap.

If I say no, I look arrogant.

If I say yes, I look weak.

…

Might as well go with the flow.

“Hahaha yeah… I am… anyway, could we start?” I reply awkwardly.

“Yeah come on! I’m Zali anyway. Nice to meet you.”

We shake hands.

Less aggressive grip.

Good.

Zali tilts his head.

“Have you prayed?”

Ah.

Right.

That question.

“Uh… nope. I just arrived. Not sure where to pray anyway.”

Zali nods seriously.

“We have a surau here. Might as well you start there.”

Respect.

At least this place has spiritual structure.

“Well… at least they must have water,” I mutter.

Jack chuckles.

Zali doesn’t.

He takes it seriously.

“Of course we have water.”

Oops.

We walk together toward the surau.

The corridor feels cooler.

Quieter.

More peaceful.

My footsteps echo.

I start feeling… slightly embarrassed.

Everyone looks organized.

Prepared.

Purposeful.

And I still don’t know my course.

The Surau Stop

We arrive at a small surau room.

Simple.
Clean.
Neatly arranged prayer mats.

Sunlight coming through the window softly.

It’s calm.

Very calm.

Zali turns to me.

“Where is your bag?”

…

Bag.

My military bag.

My brick-weight survival kit.

My entire existence.

Still.

In the library.

…

I freeze.

“Uh.”

Jack blinks.

“You left it?”

“…Yes.”

“Where?”

“…Library.”

Silence.

Zali and Jack exchange looks.

“What kind of bag?” Jack asks slowly.

“Big one.”

“How big?”

“Military type.”

Pause.

Zali’s eyes widen slightly.

“…You left an unidentified heavy military bag in the library?”

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

From down the hallway—

A scream.

“WHOSE BAG IS THIS?!”

Another voice.

“DON’T TOUCH IT!!”

Footsteps running.

Chairs scraping.

Chaos igniting.

Jack slowly turns to me.

“Darin…”

Zali exhales.

“…Please tell me that’s not yours.”

My survival instinct kicks in.

I sprint.

“WAIT WAIT WAIT THAT’S MINE!!!”

I dash down the corridor like my entire future depends on it.

Because it does.

Behind me, Jack shouts.

“BROOOO!!!”

Zali runs too.

We burst into the lobby.

Students scattered.

A small crowd gathered around my military bag.

Someone is holding it with two fingers like it might explode.

The librarian stands nearby.

Arms crossed.

Expression unreadable.

“Who left this here?” someone whispers dramatically.

“It looks suspicious…”

“Call security!”

“Maybe it’s a bomb!”

I push through the crowd.

“MOVE MOVE MOVE THAT’S MINE!!!”

Everyone jumps back.

I grab the bag.

Lift it easily.

See?

Not a bomb.

Just poor student survival kit.

The crowd stares at me.

Jack arrives behind me, breathing heavily.

Zali too.

The librarian sighs deeply.

“…well thats a good start,” he mutters again.

I scratch my head.

“Hehe… sorry…”

The entire lobby is now fully awake.

And I, Darin Bin Mali,

Have successfully caused:

My first impression is already looking very dire.

One brave student suddenly steps forward.

“I’ll carry it.”

He grabs my military bag.

Lifts.

…

Doesn’t move.

He squints.

Tries again.

Veins pop on his forehead.

“WHOA!!!! WHAT IS THIS?! IT’S DAMN HEAVY!!!!”

He drops it immediately.

THUD.

The floor vibrates.

Students jump.

Zali and Jack slowly turn to look at me.

😓

“…What did you bring anyway?” Jack asks cautiously.

I scratch my cheek.

“Umm… mostly survival…”

“Survival?” Zali repeats.

“Yes.”

They blink.

I suddenly remember.

Mom arguing with airport staff.

“Forty kilograms maximum limit!”

She told them it’s “necessity.”

Rice cooker.
First aid kit.
Extra blanket.
Emergency flashlight.
Dry food.
Tool kit.
Extension wires.
Three jackets.
Two kettles.

Why two kettles?

I don’t know.

Mom logic.

Jack kneels slightly and pokes the bag.

“…You migrating or studying?”

I ignore him.

Important question first.

I lean toward Jack.

“So… do we need to wear full formal?”

Jack nods.

“Yeah actually. But freshmen in first semester are allowed flexibility to get familiar.”

Allowed flexibility?

Meaning I currently look like a warning example.

Zali adds seriously,
“It’s to show our ability. To show professionalism.”

Professionalism.

I look at myself.

Baggy.
Oversized.
Wrinkled.

Professional Villager #3.

“Right…” I mutter.

Maybe Mom packed my formal clothes properly.

Somewhere.

Hopefully.

The Surau – Spiritual Preparation Mode

I finally go to the surau.

Calm.
Cool.
Quiet.

I perform ablution.

Pray slowly.

Seriously.

Not rushed.

Not distracted.

I whisper silently:

“Ya Allah… please let me survive this college life.”

Pause.

“…And maybe help me find proper clothes.”

Ameen.

Bathroom Upgrade Attempt

Since I already brought the bag…

And it’s compact like a black hole of storage…

At least I have a backpack.

And towel.

And there’s a bathroom.

Lucky!!!

I rush in.

Jack calls from outside.

“Darin! Hurry!”

I ignore him.

This is transformation arc.

This is where protagonist becomes refined.

I shower quickly.

Cold water hits.

Focus.

Reset.

New beginning.

I come out.

Hair slightly wet.
Face refreshed.
Confidence restored.

I open my military bag.

Finally.

Formal clothes.

Professional.

Respectable.

I unzip.

…

…

No.

No.

No no no no no.

ALL BAGGY.

Oversized shirts.

Oversized pants.

Oversized everything.

WHY IS EVERYTHING LOOSE?!

I dig deeper.

More oversized shirts.

Who packed this?!

I can swear…

Somewhere in Kota Kinabalu…

Big Sis Sara is laughing.

Cut Scene – Kota Kinabalu

Sara suddenly sneezes during therapy.

“Ahhchoo!!”

The nurse looks concerned.

“You okay?!”

Sara wipes her nose.

“Yeah… I’m good… huh… what is my little brother doing anyway…”

She smiles mysteriously.

Back to Darin – Fashion Tragedy

I stare into my bag.

This is sabotage.

Deliberate sabotage.

Did she remove my fitted shirts?!

This is sibling warfare.

Fine.

Fine.

We adapt.

I wear:

Baggy khaki pants.
Oversized shirt.

Again.

I step out.

Zali and Jack look at me.

They pause.

Smile awkwardly.

“Yeah… right… all good…” 😅

Lies.

Absolute lies.

Jack clears his throat.

“Anyway… come on. Let’s go meet the seniors. Your batch hasn’t arrived yet, so might as well join us.”

Join seniors?

Already?

No tutorial level first?

“Okay… fine…” I reply.

Inside, dramatic violin plays.

The Classroom Entrance

We walk toward the class.

Door slightly open.

I peek inside.

It looks…

Normal.

Rows of tables.

Whiteboard.

Projector.

But everyone—

Everyone—

Looks like they’re about to attend a 9AM corporate meeting in KLCC.

Formal shirts.
Blazers.
Baju kurung.
Name tags.

Morning rush hour energy.

And then there’s me.

Oversized protagonist energy.

Jack walks in confidently.

“Morning guys!”

Everyone responds politely.

Then they notice me.

Silence spreads slowly.

Like ink in water.

Eyes scan.

Up.

Down.

Up again.

Someone whispers.

“Is he… exchange student?”

Another whispers.

“Maybe creative department.”

Zali pats my back.

“This is Darin. New intake.”

New intake?

Feels like new specimen.

I bow slightly.

“Hi…”

Voice cracks.

Amazing.

Fantastic.

Elite introduction.

A senior girl adjusts her glasses.

“Oh. Welcome.”

She smiles professionally.

Too professionally.

I sit at the back.

Chair creaks.

Why is everything so loud today?!

I look around.

This place isn’t chaotic.

It’s structured.

Disciplined.

Focused.

Different from what I imagined.

Maybe…

Just maybe…

This isn’t going to be simple.

And as I sit there…

Door opens again.

Footsteps enter.

Light steps.

Confident.

Three figures stand at the doorway.

One of them…

Has sharp eyes.

Observant.

Calm.

And immediately scans the room.

Her gaze moves.

Across the seniors.

Across the tables.

Across—

Me.

And pauses.

Why is she looking at me like that?

Suspicion?

Judgment?

Curiosity?

The air changes.

Something just shifted.

And I don’t know why…

“Independent Mode Activated”

Morning light slips through the thin dorm curtains.

Firda is sleeping diagonally like she owns the room.

Nira is curled up, hugging a pillow dramatically.

Mimi is sleeping peacefully in her shorts and tight shirt, completely unbothered by life.

I sit up slowly.

No rush.

But no laziness either.

Today is movement.

I fold my blanket properly.

Check my bag again.

Phone.

Wallet.

Documents.

Bank booklet.

I take it out for a moment.

Dark blue cover.

My name printed on it.

Inside—

RM 15,000.

Not cash.

Not in hand.

Safe in the bank.

Hard-earned.

Saved from long shifts.
Late nights.
Standing for hours.

This is not allowance money.

This is survival money.

I sit at the edge of the bed and calculate quietly.

College fee – RM 3,000
Remaining – RM 12,000

Survival budget – RM 7,000
Miscellaneous – RM 2,500
Emergency – RM 2,500

Balanced.

Controlled.

No emotional spending.

No panic decisions.

I close the booklet.

Slide it back carefully into my file.

This is my foundation.

Mimi stirs.

“Okay… good luck, sis.”

She sits up, hair messy.

We hug.

Warm.

Familiar.

“Did you get your phone?”

I show her.

Nokia 8250.

Mine dark blue.

Hers silver.

Simple.
Durable.
Reliable.

Like us.

“Keep in touch!!”

“Well, chat later.”

I smile.

Then I leave.

Transit – Alone but Steady

The bus ride is quiet.

I sit by the window.

Watching buildings pass.

Watching people rush.

No dramatic music.

Just steady breathing.

From bus to train.

From train to Kajang.

I call my cousin.

“Yeah but no one’s around the house, maybe next time. You going to college right? Good luck.”

“Yeah Abg Rahim… thanks… salam.”

Short.

Simple.

Support without noise.

Good enough.

The Drop-Off

The next bus stops somewhere unexpected.

An alley.

Long.

Narrow.

Quiet.

Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that makes your footsteps sound louder than they should.

Old walls.

Peeling paint.

A cat watching from a distance.

I tighten my grip on my luggage handle.

Slide my hockey stick slightly out from the side pocket.

Not dramatic.

Just prepared.

If something happens—

I won’t freeze.

Engine sound approaches.

A small motorbike.

An old man slows down beside me.

“Adik!!! Pergi kolej ke!?”

I nod cautiously.

“Ya… tempat ni ke Cahaya Institute of Technology?”

He points ahead.

“Depan sikit nanti nampak sekolah tu!! Nak naik sekali ke!?”

I glance at his tiny motorbike.

Then at my luggage.

Then at the road.

Risk assessment complete.

“Takpe pakcik. Saya jalan kaki je.”

He nods kindly.

“Baik!!! Belajar elok elok ya!!”

He rides off.

I exhale quietly.

Not every unexpected moment is dangerous.

But being cautious never hurts.

First Look at the College

The building appears at the end of the alley.

Modest.

Simple.

Not glamorous.

But not abandoned either.

The signboard:

Cahaya Institute of Technology.

Cahaya.

Light.

I stare at it for a moment.

This place isn’t flashy.

It doesn’t scream prestige.

It feels…

Hidden.

I adjust my backpack.

Straighten my shoulders.

Whatever this place is—

I will adapt.

I don’t come here to look impressive.

I come here to move forward.

I step toward the entrance.

Inside—

Voices.

Movement.

Tables shifting.

People talking.

Registration, probably.

I don’t look for anyone.

I don’t search faces.

I don’t expect anything.

This is just another step.

Another checkpoint.

Another decision in my own path.

Whoever is inside…

Is just background for now.

Because today—

I focus on myself.

And survival.

12:00 PM. The sun is directly overhead, trying its best to melt the pavement.

I’m standing in front of the Main Building. From the outside? It looks like a palace. Glass windows, shiny pillars, very "Ivy League." But the moment I step inside?

Total. Lie.

The air conditioner is wheezing like it’s on its deathbed. The walls are that depressing "government office yellow." It’s basically a gold-plated trash can.

The hall is a chaotic sea of humanity. Freshmen everywhere. Some are clinging to their parents, sobbing like they’re being sent to war instead of college.

I look at them, then look at my own shadow. It’s a sharp sting in my chest. A bit of sadness? Maybe. But I shove it down deep. Be strong, Dina. Don’t rely on anyone. You’re a 2-minute-older twin for a reason.

I march up to the registration desk. The guy behind the counter, a dude named Zali, looks like he hasn’t slept since 1998. He looks up at me, blinking through thick glasses.

"Uh... sorry... Ma’am..." Zali stammers, his face pale.

💢 MA’AM?! Do I look like a 40-year-old auntie to you?! I just got a ponytail and a hockey stick!

"It’s Dina Binti Yunus," I say, my voice dropping an octave into 'Threat Mode.' "I registered via email. Did you actually receive it, or is the internet here also from the Stone Age?"

"Y-yeah! Let me check!" He scours the screen. "Right... Dina... okay. Psychology course, right? Please sign here."

I grab the pen. Psychology. Great. I’m going to spend three years learning why people like Zali are so weird.

Darin’s Side: The Million-Dollar Question

Across the hall, the world is ending. Or at least, my brain is.

I’m standing in front of a giant board covered in course names. Business. Computer Science. Engineering. It’s all gibberish to me.

"Hey! Let’s just take Business! It’s easy money!" a guy next to me yells to his friend. "Computer Science, bro! We can build games!" a girl cheers.

Must be nice to have a clue. Me? I’m looking at the board like it’s written in Ancient Egyptian.

I can’t take it anymore. I pull out my phone and call the one person I absolutely don't want to talk to.

Ringing... Ringing...

"So... how’s college? Did you find it, or did you get lost in the parking lot?" Sara’s voice crackles through the line.

"More like you guys threw me off a cliff!" I hiss, leaning against a pillar. "Everyone knows what they’re doing except me. It’s a mess here!"

"Hahaha! Classic Darin," she cackles. "So, did you figure out your future yet?"

"Not sure... kind of... I don't know, Sara. Seriously."

"Fine, listen. Find the Student Council. They’re the ones who guide people."

"Student Council? Right... the ones who guide people," I mutter, trying to sound like I know what that means.

"Guide what exactly in your feeble little mind?" Sara asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Uh... careers?"

"Well, okay. At least you have a rough idea. Go find them. Discuss your 'feeble' life."

"Thanks, Sis..."

"Oh, by the way!" Sara’s tone turns deviously joyful. "Mom said you’d definitely call one of us within the first hour. She was spot on! We both won RM 100 from Dad because of your predictable panic! Hahahahaha!"

"HEY! That’s my misery you’re betting on! Give me a share!"

"Bleh! Mom and I are going shopping with your 'failure money' right now. Bye-bye, little bro!"

Click.

The line goes dead. Cold-blooded. My own family is literally getting rich off my confusion.

I put my phone away and look around. Student Council... where are they?

I start walking, eyes scanning the crowd. I’m clueless, hungry, and officially RM 100 poorer in spirit.

[Dina’s POV]

I’m standing at the counter, pen in hand, ready to sign my life away to the Psychology department. Suddenly, a blur of motion streaks past me.

WHOOSH.

A guy—short, messy hair, looking like he just rolled out of a dryer—slams his hands onto the counter right in front of me.

"Hey! I was here first!" I bark. My hand instinctively twitches toward where I usually keep my hockey stick.

"Sorry! Just a second! Only a second!" the guy yelps without even looking at me.

He turns to the creepy registrar, Zali. "Zali! Do you know where the Student Council is?!"

"Yeah, head inside, next to the music room. You won't miss it," Zali says, completely ignoring the fact that I’m currently radiating Pure Murderous Intent.

"Got it! Thanks!"

And just like that, the human whirlwind vanishes.

I stare at the empty space where he stood. Does that guy even have common sense? Does he think 'Waiting in Line' is just a suggestion?! 💢

I turn back to Zali. He’s looking at me with this... look. Like he’s found a shiny new toy. I ignore him and focus on the paperwork.

When I hand the form back, he reaches out. His fingers purposely graze the back of my hand.

Steady, Dina. Do not explode. Do not commit a felony on your first day. "Meet the girl dorm leader at Counter B. See ya..." Zali says with a greasy smirk.

"Thanks," I mutter, pulling my hand away like he’s covered in toxic waste.

[Darin’s POV]

I’m running on pure adrenaline and confusion. I barely heard the girl I cut in front of—something about a line? Whatever. I’ve got a future to find!

I reach the Student Council office. It’s a quiet room tucked away from the chaos. I knock.

"Come in!" a voice booms.

I walk in and see a man behind a mountain of files. "Hi... is this the Student Council?"

The guy points a lazy finger toward a giant sign right next to the door that says STUDENT COUNCIL.

"Yeah. By the signboard. There."

Very funny, old man. "Uh... I need help. I don't know what course I'm supposed to take."

The man freezes. He looks at me, then at a file on his desk. A grin spreads across his face. "Ah! You must be Mrs. Malina’s son. She told me you’d be clueless. I’m Yazid, the college counselor and Head Director."

My heart sinks. Mom. Again? Did she plan my whole life while I was sleeping?!

"So... you don't know what you want?" Yazid pulls out a paper. My heart stops. It’s my SPM results. He scans the grades. "Jeez... yeah. No wonder."

"Is it that bad?" I ask, leaning over.

"Son, did you even look at this?"

He flips the papers. My academic history is a graveyard of 'E' grades in Science. Physics? E. Bio? E. Chemistry? E. But then there’s English (C) and Math (B).

"So, you're confused, right?" Yazid leans back. "Before you came here, did you work?"

"Uh... construction. Gardening. Counting stock in shops. Fixing computers. I volunteered at a kindergarten once?"

Yazid nods, scribbling something down. "Interesting. Here's your path: Social Work. It’s your best choice."

"Social work? Okay... I guess?"

"Good. Don't worry about the registration desk, I'll handle it. Here are your keys. Dorm 2B. Batch 2B. Orientation starts soon."

"Wait! Could I get a part-time job first? I need my own cash," I plead.

"Son... just join the orientation," Yazid says, his voice final. "Your parents already paid for the whole course. But I heard they have 'other plans' for you later."

"Other plans?"

"Yeah. Something about sending you even further away next time."

FURTHER?! 💢 Are they trying to launch me into space?! How far do they want me away from home?!

[Dina’s POV]

After the Zali incident, I head to the Finance office.

"Ah, Miss Dina!" the lady smiles. "Your mother paid for the entire semester already. You’re all set."

I stand there, stunned. I didn't even know she had the time. My phone buzzes in my pocket.

[MOM 📱]: All paid, dear! Have fun! Psychology is important before you move on to what you really want. I’m still in London, but handle it like a pro! Love ya!

My eyes sting. 😭 I miss her. I grab my keys—Batch 2A. Dorm 2A. I head toward the dorms, dragging my bag. It’s a new start. No more "No Filter Dina" from the convent. Just a student.

I reach the 2A wing. The hallway smells like a mix of cheap perfume and floor wax.

I push open the door to my room. Bunk beds. The sight hits me like a physical blow. The last time I was in a room like this, I was quitting boarding school because I couldn't stand the harassment. The senior girls, the perverted teachers... my hand tightens around my bag strap.

Not this time, I tell myself. This time, I’m the one with the hockey stick.

I look around. The room is already a disaster zone.

"Hey! I’m Eza! And you are?" A girl lunges into my personal space. She’s energetic, beaming, and looks like she’s powered by five cans of Red Bull.

"I’m Dina... nice to meet you."

"Hey! Has anyone seen my pink bag?!" I turn around and my brain nearly short-circuits.

There’s a girl—Lisa—rummaging through a suitcase. She is wearing a mini-skirt so short it’s basically a belt. And when she leans over... Wait. Is that a G-string?! 🤯 She’s bold. She’s flashy. She’s basically a walking fanservice episode.

"Babe! You know you can’t wear that to class, right?" Eza sighs, leaning against a bunk.

"I am Lisa, you know! Style waits for no one!" Lisa pouts.

"Where are you from?" I ask, trying to look anywhere but Lisa’s hemline.

"I’m from Sabah! You?" Eza asks.

"Penang."

"WOW! PENANG!" Lisa’s eyes sparkle like diamonds. 🤩 "I love hanging out there! The food! The malls!"

"And you, Lisa? Where are you from?"

"Singapore! My dad practically begged me to study here."

I blink. "I think you’ve got the wrong school, Lisa. This place is a jungle."

"Nope! I’m in the Social Work course!" she chirps.

A voice like ice cuts through the air. "Well... that certainly fits your... enthusiasm."

I look at the corner. There’s a girl with glasses so thick they could be used as shields. She looks like she’s already finished the entire semester’s reading.

"I’m Dina."

"Lucy. I’m from KL," she says, not looking up from her book.

"YAY! A LOCAL!" Lisa squeals. "Lucy, you have to show me the best shopping mall here!"

"Uh... I don't go out often," Lucy mutters, retreating further into her "Library Aura."

Finally, a girl with darker skin, much like mine, walks in. "Hey girls... I’m Mila. I’m from Tawau, Sabah."

I relax my shoulders. Eza, Lisa, Lucy, Mila. It’s a weird mix, but... I think I actually have friends.

What I don't know yet? The boys' dorm, 2B, is literally on the opposite of the building

[Darin’s POV]

Dorm 2B. I kick the door open. "Well... this is the place."

I expected a room. What I found was a human zoo.

To my left, a guy is contorted into a weird shape on the floor. Is he dying? No... he’s doing yoga. 😑 In the middle of the room, another guy is sprawled out on the floor, snoring like a chainsaw. And by the window, a guy is casually lighting a cigarette.

I grin. Finally. A place where I can smoke without Mom screaming at me.

"Hey. I’m Darin," I say, dropping my bag on a random bed.

"Hashim," the Yoga Guy says, upside down. "Luke," the Smoker grunts. "Shamsul..." the guy on the floor mumbles without opening his eyes.

Suddenly, the door swings open again. Another guy walks in, looking just as clueless as I did ten minutes ago.

"Hey... is this the place?"

"Yeah. Welcome to the circus," I say.

"Well, let’s find our bed then," he says, looking at me.

"Whoa! What do you mean our bed?! I ain’t sharing a mattress with you, bro!" I bark, stepping back.

The guy laughs. "You’re a funny guy! I mean the bunk beds, man! I'm taking the top one!"

I exhale. Right. Bunk beds. "I’m Darin."

"I’m Yafiz."

I look at Yafiz, then at the Smoker, the Yoga Guy, and the Floor-Sleeper. "So, Yafiz... you think we’re actually gonna learn anything here?"

"I don't know about 'learning,'" Yafiz says, looking at the thin wall connecting us to the next room. "But I hear the girls' dorm is right next door. Orientation is gonna be interesting."

I groan. Girls. If they’re anything like my sisters or that girl I cut in line earlier, I’m in for a long semester.

Shamsul leads us deeper into the room. It’s not a dorm; it’s a sardine can designed for humans. Boxes are piled high, the air smells like old sneakers, and the space is so tight I’m pretty sure I’m breathing someone else's oxygen.

Then, I see him. Lim. He’s glued to the window, his eyes wide, practically fogging up the glass with his heavy breathing.

Suddenly, Shamsul’s face twists into a demonic grin. He creeps up behind Lim, hands outstretched.

"LONG LIVE THE KING!" Shamsul yells.

SHOVE.

"FUCK!!!!" Lim screams as he’s sent flying toward the open ledge.

My heart stops. We are on the fourth floor. I’m about to witness a murder on my first day. Lim managed to snag the window frame at the last second, dangling over the drop like a panicked cat.

"HEY! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!" Lim shrieks, his legs kicking at empty air.

"STOP BEING A PEEPING TOM, YOU FILTHY ANIMAL!" Shamsul roars, laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach.

I look out the window to see what the fuss is about. Across the narrow gap is the Girls' Dorm. It’s like looking into a different dimension—everything there looks cleaner, brighter, and significantly more "sparkly."

"Bro... look at that..." Lim mutters, his fear of falling instantly replaced by pure teenage horniness. "Those are the seniors. Look at the one in the blue tank top... her boobs are huge!"

"Move over, let me see!" Shamsul shoves his way in.

I stand back with Yafiz, watching these two idiots drool. It’s pathetic. It’s shameful. It’s—

"HEY! LIM! I SEE YOU, YOU PERVERT!" A voice like a thunderclap erupts from the other building. A group of girls is standing on their balcony, and they do not look happy. One of them is holding a heavy-looking textbook like a weapon.

"EYA!!!!!! IT’S THOSE GUYS AGAIN!"

"Oh, fuck! They saw us! Scatter!" Lim and Shamsul bolt away from the window like cockroaches when the lights turn on. They scramble over the bunk beds and vanish into the hallway.

Yafiz and I just stand there, blinking. "Yeah... real funny roommates we've got," I mutter. "Yep," Yafiz agrees, looking exhausted already.

[The Reckoning]

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The door to our sardine can nearly rattles off its hinges. We all freeze. Lim and Shamsul look like they’re about to wet themselves. We open the door slowly.

Standing there is a wall of angry senior girls. In the center is a girl with a fierce expression, her hands on her hips.

"I’m going to kick your sorry ass, Lim!" she snarls. "Stop staring into our rooms or I’ll call the warden!"

"Sorry, Amber! You’re just too sexy, you know?!" Lim squeaks, trying to hide behind my shoulder.

"PERVERT!" Amber screams.

I look at this 'Amber' girl. She’s definitely hot—sharp eyes, athletic build, and a presence that demands attention. But wait... those eyes. That annoying, overly-cheery aura radiating behind the anger...

My stomach drops.

Amber’s eyes shift from Lim to me. Her rage evaporates instantly, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated shock.

"DARIN?!"

Before I can even process the danger, she lunges.

OOF.

She slams into me, wrapping her arms around my neck in a crushing hug. My face is buried in her shoulder. Yikes! Cooties! COOTIES! "Jeez! I never knew you joined this college!" she chirps, pulling back just enough to ruffle my hair like I’m a five-year-old Golden Retriever. "Look at you! You’ve grown... a little bit!"

"Uh... yeah... hi, Amber," I croak.

My roommates are staring at me. Their eyes aren't just wide—they’re glowing with a murderous, jealous light. I can practically see the 'Traitor' signs flashing over my head.

"Yo... Darin..." Lim whispers, his voice trembling with envy. "Since when are you popular with the hottest senior on campus?"

"She’s my neighbor from a year ago!" I hiss, trying to peel her arm off me. "She’s Geo’s big sister. I haven't seen her since she left for college."

Amber is one of the few girls who actually likes me, mostly because she thinks I’m "cute" and "harmless." She’s basically a human sun—way too bright, way too loud, and way too close for comfort.

"Nice to have a familiar face here!" Amber beams, ignoring the fact that her friends are still trying to murder Lim in the background. "Don't worry, Darin. If these idiots bother you, just tell Big Sis Amber, okay?"

I look at my roommates. They look like they want to throw me out the window next.

Great. First day, and I’m already the most hated guy in the dorm.

The commotion spreads faster than WiFi in exam week.

Apparently…

I am the commotion.

The entire Boys Dorm 2B is buzzing like someone just dropped free nasi lemak.

Yafiz leans against the bunk bed, arms crossed, squinting at me like a moral police officer.

“Yeah… looks like haram to me.”

Amber gasps dramatically.

“REALLY!? He is soooo cute!!!”

My soul leaves my body.

Me: 🥶😨

Lim adjusts his glasses, watching like this is some documentary.

“Well this is the juniors. So when does orientation start?”

“Not sure,” Amber says. “Mr Yazid hasn’t informed us yet.”

She suddenly turns, scanning the area like a commander.

“Amber… try to ask where Isha is,” one of the girls says.

“Got it, Nina. Lim, did you see Isha? She’s doing the disappearing act again.”

Lim smirks. “Ask Mat, man… he and Isha have something going, right?”

Amber lowers her voice dramatically.

“Yeah… and that’s what I’m worried about… letting out their desires…”

I freeze.

Am I listening to adults?

Is this how adults talk?

Nobody told me college is like this.

Nobody.

And suddenly—

“How is Sara!? I miss her so much!!” Amber grabs my shoulders.

Big sis Sara.

Why is she involved here!?

“She’s busy… with patients…” I mumble.

Sara always avoids Amber for reasons I do not understand.

“Huh… anyway nice to see you! And Lim!! Look after my little brother here!!”

“Do I look like a babysitter!?” Lim snaps.

“Well don’t you want to meet the warden again?”

Lim’s face turns pale.

“F— Fine.”

I slowly raise my hand.

“Uh… don’t worry Senior Lim… I’m good. Seriously.”

Amber gasps.

“Awwww! He’s grown up!!”

She hugs me again.

Why is she hugging me!?

COOTIES. COOTIES ALERT.

Then she leans close and whispers loudly enough for the entire floor to hear:

“Don’t hate girls. You just got unlucky with bitches.”

MY SOUL ASCENDS.

“WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT OUT LOUD!?” 😱🤬

Everyone is staring.

I want to evaporate.

Amber spins dramatically.

“See ya!”

Like a category 5 tornado, she disappears.

Silence.

Lim pats my shoulder.

“Ooo boy… looks like you got it rough.”

“Yeah…” I stare at the floor.

Yafiz cracks his knuckles.

“So… let’s unpack, bro.”

Right.

The bag.

The 40kg “survival” bag.

He tries to lift it.

“WHOA!!! WHAT IS THIS!? ARE YOU SMUGGLING GOLD!?”

Zali from earlier peeks in.

“What did you bring anyway?”

“Survival,” I say calmly.

Everyone stares at me.

“…You expecting war?”

Maybe.

College feels like war.

Dina’s Side – Girls Dorm 2A

“What was that commotion just now?” I ask, putting down my luggage.

Eza rolls her eyes.

“Oh that? Boys 2B. Well known.”

“For what?” Mila asks cautiously.

Eza lowers her voice.

“Let’s just say… they’re infamous.”

“Infamous how?” I narrow my eyes.

“Pricks,” Eza says bluntly. “That’s what seniors say.”

Mila gasps. “Perverts!?”

“Exactly.”

I grip my hockey stick.

Let them try.

Suddenly—

Lisa opens the window.

And my soul exits my body.

She is standing there in nothing but bra and panties.

“HEY GUYS!!!”

“LISA WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” I scream.

She leans out the window and waves dramatically toward Boys Dorm 2A.

The next building.

Across the alley.

Perfect visibility.

Time slows down.

A boy across the building sees her.

His nose starts bleeding.

Then another.

Then another.

It’s like domino effect of hormonal destruction.

One collapses.

Another grabs tissue.

Someone screams.

One falls off his chair.

From our side we can see red handprints on the opposite wall.

It looks like a crime scene.

Lisa flips her hair.

“They’re so easy.”

“YOU’RE STARTING A WAR!” I grab her and pull her back inside.

Too late.

Across the alley—

Boys 2A windows are opening.

Eyes wide.

Face red.

Completely malfunctioning.

Then Lisa slams the window shut.

Silence.

I breathe out slowly.

“This college is insane…”

Eza nods.

“Welcome to Cahaya Institute of Technology.”

I sigh wondering if I did a good choice about this

Mila leans forward on her bed, chin resting on her palm like she’s about to interrogate me.

“So… which course are you taking?”

Her eyes sparkle like she’s judging my entire future.

“Psychology… you?” I reply, trying to sound calm.

“Marketing.” She flips her hair dramatically.

Eza raises her hand like we’re in kindergarten.
“I’m taking Arts and Music.”

Lucy pushes her glasses up. Serious. Calculated.
“Accounting and Finance.”

There’s a dramatic pause.

“OOOOOOO— DOUBLE MAJOR?!” Lisa and Eza scream in unison.

Lucy’s face turns tomato red.

“Shut… it…”

Lisa flops backward onto the bed like she just witnessed a celebrity confession.

The air is lively.
Warm.
Dangerous.

Dorm 2A feels like a battlefield disguised as a pajama party.

Mila suddenly leans closer.

“So… any rumours about this place that you heard?”

I blink.

“Why the heck would I care about rumours?”

Lisa gasps dramatically.

“Because this is a college, Dina. Rumours are the oxygen we breathe.”

Eza lowers her voice to a whisper… even though she’s whispering loud enough for the next dorm to hear.

“There’s a rumour… that our senior Isha and Mat from 2B are dating.”

All of us lean closer.

“And they even had time to do that…”

Her eyebrows wiggle aggressively.

Lucy drops her pen.

Lisa’s jaw drops like an anime slow-motion scene.

“OOOOH~ spicy gossip!!” Lisa practically levitates.

“So that’s what the senior told me…” Eza continues, clearly proud of her information network.

Suddenly—

“Sounds like a very interesting gossip circle. Mind if I join?”

We freeze.

A shadow falls across the doorway.

A tall figure.

Long silky hair.
Sharp eyes.
Confident posture.

A beautiful girl.

Like… unfairly beautiful.

“Ah!! Kyra, come on!!!” Eza waves her in.

Kyra walks in like she owns the air around her.

“Hey everyone.”

“Hi…” Lucy says softly.

“Hey…” I reply, trying not to stare.

“YEAH!!” Lisa does a random pose for no reason.

“Hi senior… Eza is just being a prick,” Mila says sweetly.

“Shut up!!” Eza throws a pillow at her.

Kyra chuckles.

Calm. Elegant. Dangerous.

“Now now… about the rumours… there is a twist.”

All of us lean forward like synchronized gossip NPCs.

“What twist?!” we say together.

Kyra smiles slowly.

“Well… Isha is very popular with boys. Especially the 2B dorm group.”

The atmosphere subtly changes.

“Plus, 2B has a reputation.”

“What kind of reputation?” Lucy asks.

Kyra tilts her head.

“They’re charming… loud… confident… and very bold.”

Lisa fans herself dramatically.

“Sounds exciting.”

Kyra’s smile sharpens.

“But my best bud Amber makes sure they stay in line.”

“Amber?” I say without thinking.

Kyra’s eyes flicker at my reaction.

“She’s one of the hottest girls here. And she’s Sabahan too. Just like you girls.”

Lisa gasps.

“OOOHHH hometown connection!”

Liza elbows Eza.

“You might know her!”

“I doubt it…” Eza mutter.

The gossip continues.

We laugh.

We talk.

We exaggerate everything like it’s a live anime commentary.

But then—

Kyra’s tone shifts.

Subtle.

Lower.

“About Isha…”

The room quiets.

“She doesn’t listen.”

Eza frowns.
“Listen to what?”

Kyra crosses her arms.

“We warned her.”

“About what?” Mila asks.

Kyra hesitates.

Then says it.

“Dating is fine. We’re not kids.”

She pauses.

“But… when it becomes physical…”

The air tightens.

Lisa stops smiling.

Lucy grips her blanket.

I feel my chest tighten.

“Mat isn’t exactly…the moral type of guy,” Kyra continues softly.

“And 2B boys? They only care for themselves.”

“Meaning?” I ask.

Kyra looks at the window.

“The last girl who got too involved… kick out”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Even the fan sounds louder now.

“Kick out?” Lucy whispers.

Kyra shrugs lightly.

“Or so they say.”

My fingers curl slightly on my blanket.

This place…

Isn’t just chaotic.

There’s something underneath it.

Something hidden.

Suddenly—

BANG!!

Someone slams something from across the dorm block.

We all jump.

Lisa nearly falls off the bed.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” she screams.

From the open window, we hear male laughter.

2B.

Again.

Eza marches to the window.

“Oi!!! What are you idiots doing?!”

A voice shouts back from across.

“Just living life, 2A~”

Another voice whistles.

Lisa dramatically covers her chest.

“BARBARIANS!”

Kyra watches quietly.

Then mutters,

“See? Reputation.”

I cross my arms, pacing slightly.

“Men… boys… typical. Every time they hit a wall, somehow it becomes our fault.”

Lisa immediately throws both hands in the air like she just scored a goal.

“YESSSS! Exactly! But Dinaaa~ come on, look at them! They’re total bozos when it comes to girls. One smile and their brain goes ‘error 404!’”

“I’m not like you…” I mutter.

Big mistake.

Lisa freezes mid-bounce.

Her eyes sparkle.

Not serious sparkle.

Cheerful-chaos sparkle.

“Oh really~?”

Before I can process—

She suddenly lunges.

“LISA— WAIT—”

WHOOSH.

My outer shirt and track pants get yanked off in one dramatic anime motion.

“EEEEEK!!!”

I almost trip over my own feet.

Now I’m standing there in my sports bra and sport panties — standard training wear, nothing dramatic — but the way everyone gasps makes it feel like I just walked onto a stage.

Lisa freezes.

Then slowly…

Her face lights up like fireworks.

“WOOOOO!!! I KNEW IT!!!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNEW IT?!”

She spins in circles like she just uncovered national treasure.

“You always wear simple stuff and act low profile but LOOK AT YOU!! You’re hot!! Like actual hot! Perfect proportions! Strong legs! That waist! That glow! Girl you could model sports brands!”

“STOP COMMENTATING MY BODY LIKE A SPORTS ANALYST!”

Eza clutches her chest dramatically.

“I’m jealous… look at me, I’ve got a bit of fluff here…”

“Your ‘fluff’ is adorable!” Lisa beams.

“More like your chest is bigger than mine,” I mumble internally.

Eza pouts. “Still… Dina looks like she came out of an athletic magazine.”

I cross my arms instinctively, which only makes Lisa gasp louder.

“DON’T POSE LIKE THAT! You’re making it worse!!”

Kyra, leaning against the bed with a lazy smile, finally speaks.

“Well… that explains why 2B was making noise earlier.”

My head snaps up.

“They were WHAT?”

“Relax,” Kyra says casually. “They probably sensed powerful presence.”

“POWERFUL PRESENCE? I’M JUST STANDING HERE!”

Lisa suddenly grabs my shoulders.

“No no no. Listen. You’ve got that glow.”

“Glow?”

“Yeah! Dark skin shining under sunlight? That healthy athletic shine? It’s unfair!”

I blink.

No teasing tone.

No sarcasm.

Just genuine excitement.

Lucy nods quietly from her bed.

“She’s right. Dina doesn’t even try.”

Why does that feel… embarrassing?

“Can I please put my clothes back on now?”

“WAIT WAIT,” Lisa laughs, blocking me playfully. “Let me admire greatness!”

“LISA!”

The room bursts into laughter.

Kyra claps once.

“Alright, official announcement.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

She points dramatically at the three of us.

“Dina, Lisa, Eza. Brains and beauty division of 2A.”

Lisa gasps happily. “I love divisions!!”

“I don’t remember signing any contract!”

Kyra grins.

“You don’t need to. It’s destiny.”

“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ROLE MODEL HERE!”

“Role model doesn’t mean boring,” she replies smoothly.

Suddenly—

The door slides open.

Another senior peeks in.

“…Whoa. What happened here?”

Lisa salutes dramatically.

“Body confidence training session!”

The senior blinks.

Looks at me.

“…Nice build. But maybe close the door next time.”

I grab my clothes at lightning speed.

“THANK YOU.”

The whole dorm erupts in laughter again.

From outside—

A faint whistle echoes from 2B.

Lisa gasps theatrically.

“THE ENEMY APPROACHES!”

Kyra rolls her eyes.

“Relax. They can’t see.”

I quickly pull my clothes back on, heart still racing.

Why does this feel like I just survived a boss battle?

Lisa suddenly wraps an arm around me.

“See? You’re not just ‘sports girl.’ You’re stunning.”

I look at her.

She’s smiling.

Not teasing.

Just bright. Warm. Pure Lisa energy.

“…You’re impossible,” I sigh.

“And you’re gorgeous,” she beams.

Eza nods dramatically.

“2A just leveled up.”

Kyra smirks.

“And 2B has no idea what kind of storm is coming.”

I shake my head.

This dorm is insane.

Because of Kyra and Eza which having a big gossip

At least I have the comfort and safety with them..

Night – Two Buildings, Two Worlds

From across the courtyard, lights flicker.

On one side — 2A.

Laughter. Silhouettes. Movement behind curtains.

On the other — 2B.

Noise. Voices. Loud energy.

Darin stands with Lim and Yafiz earlier that evening, pretending to blend in.

Across the building—

Dina stands with Lisa and Kyra at the window.

They don’t see each other.

But they are directly opposite.

Two different storms forming.

Late Night – Darin’s Side

I can’t sleep.

The ceiling feels like it’s staring back at me.

“Damn…”

I sit up.

My body is restless.

My mind worse.

I need a smoke.

But Lim warned me.

“The warden is touchy. Former Malaysian special forces. You don’t want to get caught.”

Right.

So I do what any rational human would do.

I climb.

Window open.

Hands grip.

Pull up.

The concrete edge scrapes my palm but I swing myself up to the roof like it’s nothing.

Cold night wind hits my face.

KL Tower glows in the distance.

The city hums quietly.

I light the cigarette.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Peace.

For five seconds.

Then—

Bzzzt.

My phone vibrates.

Sara.

Of course.

I open it.

“We’re taking over your room HAHAHAHAHA. Mom says you’re surviving but we’re betting you’ll break soon – me, Sam & Wan.”

“…Pricks.”

Another message.

“Mom and Dad are testing you btw.”

I sit up.

“What the heck is this, survival reality show?”

Then—

“Met any girls yet? Spill.”

I stare at the screen.

Amber.

Right.

Might as well stir chaos.

“Amber’s here. She’s a senior.”

Instantly.

Phone rings.

The call explodes with noise.

“SERIOUSLY? BIG SIS AMBER?!” Sam screams.

“HOI WAIT TILL I TELL BIG BROTHER GEO!” another voice yells.

“At least you’re not alone,” Wan laughs.

“What does that even mean?! She’s a girl!”

Sara’s voice cuts in.

“One advice. Don’t reveal too much. Amber is a walking newscaster.”

“…I noticed.”

“What do you mean?”

“She treats me like a kindergarten kid.”

“Ouch.”

I hear mom in the background.

“It’s late. There’s curfew right?”

“Where am I going? This place looks like a jungle. I won’t be surprised if a wild boar shows up.”

Dad finally speaks.

“Whatever it is… behave.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m serious.”

“…Fine.”

“Are you outside somewhere?” Mom suddenly sharpens her tone.

“I’m safe, Mom. I’m not sleeping in the bushes.”

“Did you check your bags properly?”

“With that 40kg load? I’ll open it when I need it.”

Silence.

Then softer.

“Good luck with your new college life.”

“…Thanks.”

“One more thing. My friend wants to meet you if you have time. Near KLCC.”

“If I ever survive this place, sure.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Call ends.

The roof is quiet again.

I lie down flat.

Wind cool against my skin.

But below—

Voices.

Shouting.

I sit up.

“…What the hell are they doing now?”

2B Corridor – Trouble Brewing

I climb down through the window carefully and drop silently onto the 4th floor balcony.

Voices echo from the corridor.

“Hey juniorsss~” a mocking voice says.

Senior James.

“Senior James, what the hell are you doing here?” Lim replies.

I lean closer.

They’re gathered around the bags.

My bag.

One of them lifts it.

“Whoa… military bag?”

Another tries.

“Fuck it’s heavy!”

“What’s he carrying, bricks?!”

My jaw tightens.

Memories flash.

Old hostel.

Last time someone touched my stuff.

That didn’t end well.

I step back into the shadows.

Fine.

If they want drama.

Let’s give them horror.

I scrape my shoe against metal deliberately.

“Ooooooo….”

Silence.

“Ooooo yeah….”

“Who the fuck was that?!” someone whispers.

They look toward the staircase.

The lights flicker slightly.

Perfect timing.

“Fuck that sound scary…”

“Hey… you know the rumours right?” another says nervously.

“What rumours?” James snaps.

“This is where the murder happened last time—”

“FUCK YOU WHY YOU SAY THAT NOW?!”

That’s my cue.

I step forward slowly into the dim light.

Face blank.

Eyes hollow.

Then I let my voice drop.

“WELL… GET THE FUCK OUT.”

Absolute silence.

Then chaos.

“FUCK!!!”

“GHOST SIAL—”

One guy literally screams like a primary school kid.

“COME ONNNN… I NEED YOU TO STAYYYY…” I stretch my arm dramatically.

They scatter.

Running.

Tripping.

Cursing.

James freezes, staring at me.

Then—

He starts reciting Ayatul Kursi loudly.

I almost break character.

“GET OUT,” I repeat coldly.

He backs away slowly.

Then bolts.

Footsteps fade.

Silence returns.

I step into the corridor.

Look at my bag.

Untouched now.

“…Idiots.”

Lim peeks from a corner.

“…Bro.”

“What?”

“You’re insane.”

I shrug.

“They shouldn’t touch people’s stuff.”

From across the courtyard—

A faint movement at the opposite building window.

A silhouette.

Someone watching.

But I don’t notice.

Not yet.

Above us—

The night air grows thicker.

Because this wasn’t just a prank.

This was a declaration.

2B juniors are not weak.

And somewhere across that building—

Dina leans at her window, hearing the distant chaos.

And the story quietly tightens its threads.

To be continued