Room for two

London has never been kind when it comes to weather, but that morning the sky seemed determined to erase people from the streets. The rain fell thick, constant, cold—the kind that seeps into your bones and makes everything smell like wet asphalt and freshly brewed coffee.

I ran from the bus stop to the university’s main entrance. My boots, my coat, even my backpack were already soaked. I felt my hair sticking to my cheeks and my scarf hanging uselessly around my neck.

I didn’t care. Or rather, I was used to it. No one at the University of London paid attention to the girl in the back row.

Or so I thought... until I looked up.

He was there.

Tall, lean, with dark hair falling slightly over his eyebrows. A pair of eyes that seemed far too serious for a boy my age were watching me from the other end of the hallway. It wasn’t curiosity, but the kind of gaze that weighs on you, that makes you wonder if there’s something strange on your face or if you’ve simply been caught in a moment you don’t understand.

I froze for a second. A second that felt eternal.

“You’re going to catch a cold,” he said. His voice was deep, soft, and filled with something I couldn’t identify.

I didn’t know him. I was sure of it.

“This is London, we’re all sick,” I replied, trying to sound indifferent as I took off my coat.

He smiled faintly, just the slightest curve of his lips, as if my answer had been predictable or amusing.

And then his gaze shifted—not toward me, but toward something, or someone, behind my shoulder. I turned my head, following that invisible line, and saw him.

A blond boy, leaning against the wall, guitar in hand. His cocky smile didn’t match the morning atmosphere. His jacket was open, as if the cold didn’t touch him, and his blue eyes had the gleam of someone used to being looked at... and liking it.

Ethan and Liam.

Though I didn’t know their names yet, that would be the first time I saw them together. The first time I’d feel that something was about to change... for better or for worse.

In Literature class, I tried to focus. I didn’t succeed. Ethan—because that’s what I heard someone call him—was three seats ahead, taking notes in perfectly neat handwriting. Liam, on the other hand, wasn’t there. For some reason, I couldn’t picture him taking notes on Shakespeare.

Every so often, Ethan would slightly turn his head—not enough to make it obvious, but enough for me to notice. It made me uncomfortable, as if there was something he already knew about me that I didn’t.

The bell rang and everyone started leaving. I packed my things at my usual pace, waiting for the room to empty. But I wasn’t the last to leave.

“You don’t seem like the type to stay silent all the time,” Ethan said as I walked past him.

“And you don’t seem like the type to talk to strangers,” I shot back without looking at him.

I heard his short laugh, as if he hadn’t expected anything different from me.

Outside, Liam was sitting on a hallway table, softly strumming his guitar strings. The melody was oddly cheerful, a contrast to the academic monotony.

“So you’re Aileen,” he said without looking at me, as if he already knew my name.

I stopped.“And who are you?”

“Liam Brooks, the guy who makes sure mornings at this university aren’t a funeral,” he replied, winking at me.

“Modest,” I remarked.

“Realistic,” he countered, smiling again—that smile that promised complications.

Ethan looked at him with familiarity and something like a warning, as if that kind of exchange was routine between them.

I don’t know when it happened, but I ended up walking with them toward the cafeteria. I hadn’t accepted any formal invitation—it just... happened. And as we walked, I realized there was something in the way they looked at each other, spoke to each other, shoved each other lightly, that was different. It wasn’t just friendship. It was a private language. An invisible bond that made me feel like I was stepping into a story that already had chapters written before I appeared.

What I didn’t know was that this story was going to pull me in hard... and I wouldn’t come out unscathed.

The University of London’s cafeteria was as crowded as always at that time of day. The air smelled of roasted coffee, fresh bread, and, for some reason, damp books. There was a constant murmur of conversations, laughter, and the clinking of cups on tables.

I still didn’t understand how I’d ended up there, walking between Ethan and Liam as if we’d been a group for years. Maybe it was the way Liam talked non-stop, filling awkward silences, or how Ethan walked beside me without saying much but radiating a solid calm.

“So, what do you study, Aileen?” Liam asked as we made our way to an empty table.

“Literature,” I answered.

“Ah, so you’re the type who reads sad poems at three in the morning,” he joked.

“Only when it rains,” I replied.

“Then London is perfect for you,” Ethan added, speaking for the first time since we’d walked in.

His voice was calm, but there was something... something that made me want to hear more.

We sat down. Liam ordered a black coffee and a slice of apple pie “because sugar is life.” Ethan, on the other hand, ordered tea. I ordered hot chocolate. Liam teased me a little, but deep down seemed to approve.

“So, how come I haven’t seen you before?” Liam asked.

“I don’t usually draw attention.”

“Liar,” he said, looking at me with a sly expression. “If I saw you today, everyone has seen you.”

The comment made me uncomfortable. Not because I hadn’t heard it before, but because he said it with a kind of knowing that unsettled me.

Ethan cut in.“Don’t start.”

“What? I’m being nice,” Liam protested, raising his hands.

“You have a peculiar way of defining ‘nice,’” I said.

They laughed, and for an instant, I felt something close to... belonging. As if the two of them were a world, and I, without realizing it, was stepping through the front door.

The rest of the day was different. I had another class in the afternoon, but something in my perception had shifted. The hallways, the voices, even the light filtering through the windows seemed different.

At one point, I saw Ethan talking to Liam in the central courtyard under a glass roof. Their heads were close, exchanging words in low voices. Liam gestured animatedly; Ethan kept his usual composure. When they saw me, the conversation stopped abruptly.

That reaction left me with more questions than answers.

By late afternoon, as London began to take on that golden-gray hue that precedes nightfall, I was walking toward the main exit when I heard quick footsteps behind me.

“Aileen.” It was Ethan.

I turned.“Yes?”

“Liam has a band. He’s playing tomorrow at a bar nearby. We thought you might want to come.”

We thought.Nothe thought. NotI thought. It was plural.

I crossed my arms.“And why did you think that?”

Ethan held my gaze for a moment before answering.“Because you don’t seem like the type to leave things unfinished.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Then come and understand. Tomorrow. Eight p.m.”

Before I could say no, Liam appeared, slipping a flyer into my hand with a drawing that was somewhere between a rock logo and a teenager’s doodle.

“It’ll be fun. And if you don’t like it, I’ll buy you an apple pie.”

I smiled—more at their persistence than anything else.

As I walked toward the exit, I felt a strange mix of nerves and anticipation. Harper would notice right away that something had changed when she saw me. She had that annoying ability to read my moods like an open book.

But for the first time in a long while, I didn’t care if someone noticed a change in me.

I walked home that night with a strange feeling. I didn’t know those boys, and yet I felt they were already leaving a mark. There was something about them that didn’t quite fit, as if they held pieces of a puzzle they weren’t ready to show me... yet.

But what I didn’t know was that this invitation wasn’t just to a concert. It was a game whose rules had already been written... and I didn’t even know them.