Garson was sitting in class, the lecture dragging on, but he wasn't really listening.
For the past two days, his mood had been off.
The university felt dull, quieter… almost lifeless.
The lecture finally ended, and as students began packing up, Natalia walked over, holding her books.
"Hey Garson, I want to talk to you," she said politely.
He looked up at her, eyes slightly tired.
"Yeah?"
"Danna might not come for a few more days," Natalia said gently.
"Tomorrow is the day of the presentation. Maybe you can inform Professor Kevin and ask for an extension on her behalf."
"Sure, I will," Garson replied with a small nod.
Just then, Aiden, who'd been sitting next to Garson, stood up and stretched.
"Well, I'll head out with Natalia. We don't have any plans today anyway," he said casually.
The two walked off together, chatting softly.
Garson sat still for a moment, his fingers tapping the table.
"What's going on with him these days?" he thought, then eyes drifting toward the empty seat Danna usually filled.
Garson walked into the library, where Professor was seated, busy with some paperwork.
"Hey sir, I wanted to talk to you about the presentation," Garson said with a polite smile.
Professor Kevin looked up and returned the smile.
"Oh, sure, Garson. Speak up."
Garson stepped a little closer.
"Sir, as you know, Danna hasn't been able to come to the university because of her ankle injury."
"I was wondering if you could give us a three-day extension. I don't want to present it alone, since it's a group project — and she won't get her marks if she's not ther
"Sure, Garson," Professor Kevin said with a smile.
Garson nodded, smiling back politely before turning to leave the library. As he stepped into the hallway, he unexpectedly ran into Grace.
"Hey Garson! Let's go watch a movie," she said excitedly.
"No. You can go alone," he replied, walking past her without much emotion.
But Grace grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"Why are you acting so different? Is it because of that bitch?" she snapped, jealousy flaring in her voice.
Garson immediately pulled his arm free. His eyes narrowed.
"Grace. Don't you dare bring her into this."
"I didn't. You did," Grace fired back.
"When she was here, you were always around her. You say you hate her, but your actions say something else! Why can't you just leave her alone?"
"It's not what you think," Garson said, anger rising in his tone.
"I hate her. I still do."
"Oh really?" Grace's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"You carry someone you 'hate' to the clinic? You drop her at home? You defend her every time?"
Garson clenched his jaw.
"Grace, stop. You're my friend. I don't want to be rude, but I only helped her. That's it." His voice softened for a moment — tired, not cold.
But Grace wasn't done.
"Then be my fiancé."
Garson froze.
"What?"
"You heard me. Our dads are talking about it anyway. So if there's really nothing between you and her, then… why not start something with me?"
Garson looked at her, frustration clear in his eyes.
"Grace… please come to your senses. You're just my friend. I don't see you as anything more than that."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Grace standing alone in the hallway.
Around them, a few students who had overheard the argument whispered to each other, shocked by what they'd just witnessed.
Grace just stood there, watching him go — her expression falling.
And then, quietly, the tears came.
Garson started his car in silence, still burning with frustration after what happened with Grace. The drive home felt longer than usual, every red light another reminder of the pressure building inside him.
When he stepped into the house, his dad was already waiting in the living room.
Garson tried to head straight to his room, walking toward the stairs without saying a word.
"Garson," his dad called out sharply. "What did you say to Grace?"
Garson stopped, sighed, then slowly turned and walked back down the stairs.
"Dad, I just told her the truth. I don't like her and—"
Before he could finish, his father's hand struck across his face.
The room went quiet. Garson's cheek stung, but he didn't flinch. He stood there, swallowing his pride.
His stepmother appeared from the hallway, eyes cold and unreadable. James stepped out of his room too, leaning against the wall, watching the scene unfold.
"You embarrassed this family in front of everyone," his father said, voice heavy with anger. "Grace has been nothing but respectful to us. She deserves better than your careless attitude."
Garson's fists clenched at his sides, but he said nothing. His silence screamed louder than any words.
His stepmother shook her head in disappointment,
Garson's eyes shifted to James, who was smirking from the hallway like he was enjoying the show. His stepmother looked down, avoiding his gaze, pretending she wasn't part of the tension.
"I heard you've been caring about some stupid girl at university," his dad snapped, voice rising.
"Stop that and be with Grace — you're going to marry her."
Garson's jaw tightened.
"She's not stupid," he said, his voice shaking with fury.
"And second, it's my life, Dad. I'll choose who I want to be with."
He stepped closer, eyes burning.
"Tell your best child James to clean up your messes — not me."
His dad's face hardened, but Garson wasn't finished.
"You forgot Mom. Then you forgot me. So don't suddenly act like you've been my father all these years."
"How dare you talk to me like this?" Garson's dad roared, stepping forward, his hand beginning to rise again.
But before he could strike, his stepmother quickly stepped in, placing a firm hand on his arm.
"Let it go," she said coolly. "You know he's spoiled. Why are you stressing yourself over this? James is here — he will handle everything."
Garson let out a bitter laugh, his eyes filled with resentment.
"Yeah, Dad. Listen to this lady, because she's the one who made you forget Mom… and me."
His words cut through the room like a blade. No one moved.
Without waiting for a response, Garson turned and stormed up the stairs, his footsteps loud and defiant, disappearing into his room and slamming the door shut behind him.
Garson lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his jaw still tense from everything that had happened downstairs. The silence in his room was loud.
He picked up his phone, his fingers aimlessly scrolling… until his eyes landed on Danna's name.
He didn't know why, but something in him paused. For a long moment, he just stared at her name on the screen, his thumb hovering over the chat. His mind battled with itself — What am I even doing? Why do I care?
But still… he tapped.
The message box blinked at him, waiting.
After a few seconds, he finally typed:
Garson:Did your ankle get better?
He stared at the message. Simple. Safe. But the way his heartbeat faster… it wasn't simple at all.
And then he hit send.
Danna was lying on her bed, scribbling quietly in her journal, lost in her thoughts. The room was dim, the soft glow of her bedside lamp creating a cozy silence.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed beside her.
She picked it up —
A message from Garson.
Garson:Did your ankle get better?
She raised an eyebrow, a little surprised, then smiled slightly before typing back:
Danna:Yeah, it's better. Well… how come Mr. Whatever decided to text me?
The reply came quickly.
Garson:Don't be too happy, Miss Coffee. We're partners for the presentation — that's the only reason I asked.
Danna chuckled softly as she typed:
Danna:Wow! You actually think I'd be happy just because you messaged me? So delusional.
Garson stared at her reply for a moment, then shook his head, the corners of his lips twitching — as if her words had somehow softened the edge of his day.
Garson:Delusional? That's rich coming from someone who once tripped over her own shoelace and blamed the sidewalk.
Danna:Better than someone who thinks he's mysterious just because he doesn't talk much. Spoiler: it's not cool, it's just weird.
Garson:Wow. From the girl who talks like she's the main character in a drama no one asked to watch.
Danna:At least I have main character energy. You're more like that background guy who's always confused.
Garson:Confused? Nah. Just trying to understand how someone manages to be this short and still full of attitude.
Danna:Height isn't everything, Mr. whatever. But don't worry — I'm sure your personality will grow eventually too.
Garson let out a low laugh, shaking his head.
Garson:You're lucky your ankle's injured or I'd roast you harder.
Danna:You're lucky I'm injured, or I'd make you question your whole existence.
He grinned at the screen, amused. For once, things didn't feel so heavy.