The campus was buzzing louder than usual that afternoon. Blick, still feeling like the outsider in a world of glossy hair, gym-toned abs, and polished confidence, was wandering around the college grounds — pretending to admire the architecture, but secretly scoping out every group of students hoping to find a friendly face... or at least a peaceful corner to blend into.
But peace was the last thing he got.
As he turned a corner near the canteen, the scent of brewed tea and spicy samosas filled his nose. His stomach growled — loudly. Classic. Just as he was about to find a seat at an empty table, SPLASH!
Hot tea — not boiling, but hot enough to make him flinch — spilled right on his shirt. It ran down his chest in brown streaks like a badly poured latte.
"Are you freaking blind!?" he barked without thinking, brushing at his shirt. His voice, unusually loud, caught a few glances from the nearby tables.
Standing in front of him was a girl — tall, slender, and dangerously attractive. Her jet-black one-piece dress hugged her curves like it had been made just for her body. The sunlight through the window highlighted the curve of her waist and the way her dress fluttered just above her knees.
Her eyes, however, were as fierce as her outfit was seductive. "Excuse me?" she shot back, arms crossed.
"You poured your tea on me!" Blick snapped, then realized how loud he sounded. A few guys in the back were snickering. Some girls were staring. Great — first day and already public enemy number one.
She narrowed her eyes. "You walked into me. And it's just tea. Grow up."
Blick opened his mouth but nothing came out. Her confidence was a slap. She didn't apologize, didn't flinch, didn't even look embarrassed.
Instead, she turned with a sassy flip of her hair and strutted back to her table, her friends greeting her like a returning queen. Blick watched the curve of her back as she walked, the way her heels clicked on the floor like she was walking a runway. He wasn't sure if he wanted to argue more… or ask for her number.
As Blick stood frozen, wiping at his soaked shirt, a voice cut through the laughter behind him.
"Dude, that was brutal," someone chuckled.
Blick turned to see a boy about his age, lean, stylish, and smiling like he'd just watched a Netflix comedy special.
"I'm Zayen," the guy said, offering a fist bump. "And that beautiful demon queen? That's Kiara."
Blick smirked. "She nearly burned my nipples off."
Zayen laughed harder than he should have. "Yeah, she has that effect on people — but usually just with her looks."
They shook hands, and just like that, Blick had a friend.
—
Minutes later, Blick and Zayen sat in the canteen, sipping cold drinks while waiting for their snacks. Blick had changed into his spare shirt — thinner and tighter, which accidentally revealed his surprisingly shredded abs. As he adjusted the collar, a group of girls at the next table giggled.
"Dude," Zayen whispered, leaning close. "You're like… a nerdy Clark Kent with a six-pack. No one sees it coming."
Blick rolled his eyes but grinned.
Just then, a commotion near the canteen entrance caught his attention. A group of girls entered — laughing, glowing, oozing confidence like Instagram influencers in real life.
Kiara was among them, leading the pack like a queen bee. She looked radiant — loose waves bouncing, sunglasses perched on her head, lips glossed and inviting. Her dress today had a plunging neckline that tastefully exposed a midline shadow between her breasts. It wasn't vulgar, just… hypnotic.
Blick froze mid-sip. His straw made a weird noise as it sucked air.
"Oh no," he muttered. "She's here."
Zayen leaned over. "You like her or want to fight her?"
"Both."
Kiara and her friends slid into a table just across from them. One of her friends noticed Blick and whispered something. Kiara rolled her eyes at first… but then stood up.
She walked toward him.
Blick's brain scrambled. She's coming to yell at me again? Throw another drink? Sit on my face? What is happening?!
But before anything could unfold, Blick stood up clumsily to throw his snack wrapper and wash his hands — too anxious to sit still.
"Hey," Kiara said softly when he returned.
Blick blinked. "Uh… hey."
That's all he managed.
She looked at his shirt, paused, smirked, and walked back to her table without another word. Zayen gave him a look. "Smooth. Real Casanova."
The moment was broken by a splash at the wash basin. A guy turned on the tap with too much force, and a stream of water sprayed onto Blick's shirt again, soaking it until it clung tightly to his torso.
Every single girl in the canteen stared.
Even Kiara's head turned — her eyes locking on his abs, jaw tightening slightly.
Zayen whistled. "Dude. Your abs are literally cockblocking my personality."
Blick laughed but felt his ears burn. Kiara was still looking… but looked away when her friends teased her.
Before they could leave the canteen, a loud group of seniors ran in, shouting about the upcoming fresher's party.
"Ramp walk auditions tomorrow!" one of them yelled. "Pair up if you want to win!"
The buzz spread like wildfire.
Zayen nudged Blick. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I should probably learn to walk without tripping?"
"No, idiot. You + Kiara = deadly combo."
Blick wasn't so sure.
But fate wasn't done playing games. As they turned to leave, Kiara approached — alone this time.
"You dance?" she asked, surprisingly casual.
"I… yeah, a bit. Why?"
She hesitated. "I'm joining ramp and dance. You should too."
"You want me as your partner?"
She glanced away. "Don't flatter yourself. You're just… the best option."
Zayen coughed behind them. "Totally not flirting."
Blick grinned. "Sure. I'll do it."
Kiara nodded, trying to suppress a smile.
Then, suddenly, her heel twisted and she slipped. She yelped and tripped forward — right into Blick's arms.
He caught her, one hand accidentally brushing the side of her waist, the other near the small of her back. Their faces were inches apart. Her perfume was intoxicating.
"Careful," Blick whispered.
Kiara's cheeks were red. "Stop staring like that…"
Blick blinked. "I'm just checking for injuries…"
Her eyes darted downward. "Then stop checking my cleavage."
He laughed. She looked away, lips curving upward, clearly fighting a laugh of her own.
"Come with me," she said. "I need to clean this dress."
Blick hesitated. "To where?"
"The girl's washroom."
His soul left his body.
"Relax," she teased. "Just the edge. I need help reaching the dust near my back."
Zayen yelled from behind, "Don't die in there!"
As they left together, whispering jokes and sneaking glances, a girl stood silently behind a wall — phone in hand, recording.
But she wasn't just recording for fun.
She sent the clip to someone with a message:
"Told you I'd get proof. Blick's close with her now. Time for your move."
Suspense was brewing.
And Blick had no idea the storm coming.