Behind your window

Morning traffic humming faintly outside the apartment building. A girl stood near the entrance of the appartment, phone pressed between her shoulder and ears while balancing two iced coffee in one hand.

Clara, if you're still sleeping, i swear i will leave without you. Sara mummured with a deep sigh.

Pause.

“ Ten minutes means twenty in your language.” She rolled her eyes, glancing up toward the entrance's peephole.

Inside, A dim apartment room.

Messy, but lived-in. Open notebooks scattered across the floor. Headphones tangled beside an unplugged laptop. Sticky notes on the wall. Half-edited video clips frozen on a monitor.

A hand reached out from beneath a blanket, blindly searching for the phone vibrating somewhere nearby.

Clara’s tired voice finally answered.

“…What time is it?”

Sara nearly laughed.

“The time where our professor announces the greatest practical assignment of the semester. Get ready fast, I’m outside.”

Another silence.

“You said that last time too.”

“Last time we got stuck interviewing people about street food culture for six hours.”

“That was your fault.”

“That old man had emotional depth, Clara.”

A quiet sigh from the other end.

Sara smirked slightly.

“Ten minutes. I’m counting.”

The call ended.

For a moment, the apartment stayed silent.

Clara slowly sat up. Her messy hair, oversized hoodie, distant expression, headphones hanging around her neck like they never leave her.

Outside her window, someone across the street briefly lowers their gaze before walking away.

Clara never notices.

Crowded hallways. Students rushing. Camera Pens scratched against notebooks. People discussing assignments loudly.

Sara walked beside Clara while drinking coffee.

“You know this assignment is finally our chance to make something interesting.”

Clara looked half-awake.

“If the assignment includes sleeping, I’ll get full marks.”

Sara nudged her shoulder.

“You disappear emotionally whenever morning exists.”

Clara adjusted her headphones slightly.

“That’s because mornings are hostile.”

The lecture hall stretched downward in rows of narrow seats, each row slightly higher than the one before it. A large screen occupied the wall at the front, glowing against the otherwise dim room.

The media professor entered carrying folders. The chatters stopped like they saw a ghost enter the lecture hall.

The room went quiet.. way to quiet.

Professor: “This month’s practical submission will be individual work.”

Groans filled the room immediately.

Professor continued: “You will each document a real person’s daily routine, behavior, interactions, and environmental patterns.”

Students reacted differently some were excited, some were uncomfortable and some even start to joke about it.

Professor: “No interference. Observation only.”

That line matters later.

Folders were distributed one by one.

Each folder contained , a name. Basic profile. Schedule. Access permissions. Observation guidelines

Sara opened hers dramatically.

“My queen, let’s see who your mystery citizen is.”

Clara barely reacted while flipping through her file.

Unlike others, she seemed genuinely intrigued. Because to her, this feels like a documentary. The only thing she loves to watch in free time.

A staged observational experiment. A Thought appeared in Clara's mind.

Sara looked at her own file first.

“Oh mine is actually cool.”

Clara finally glanced down at hers.

The file contain genuine information about the person.

Nothing much - name Vincent - occupation cybersecurity consultant - go in cafe every evening - approved participant.

Clara quietly said,“This has to be staged, the people in it are just paid."

Sara smirked. “You think everything is staged.”

Clara: “No normal person agrees to let strangers document them.”

The professor overheard slightly. For a brief second, his expression changed. Almost uncertain.

But he quickly moved on. His voice travelled evenly through the speaker,"let's being with today's topic."

Another day had begun witha spark of seriousness among students.