Chapter 1 Morning at Sydney University
I stepped onto campus thinking it would be just another day — I was wrong.
The sun had barely risen, casting long golden streaks across the cobblestone paths. Students bustled around me, some laughing, some scrolling on their phones, some deep in conversation. I tugged my backpack a little higher on my shoulder and adjusted the strap. Mornings like this always made me feel alive, even if they made my chest race a little faster than normal.
“Hey, Henzal!”
I looked up to see Rayan Roderic jogging toward me, his hair a mess, cheeks flushed from the run. That awkward, earnest energy he always carried made me grin before I could stop myself.
“Morning, Rayan,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I tried to sound casual, friendly — like always. I liked him… just as a friend. I didn’t want to mislead him, no matter how cute his nervous smile was.
He skidded to a stop in front of me, slightly out of breath. “Uh… I was wondering… maybe, after class, we could grab a coffee?” His words tumbled out too fast, each one loaded with a nervous edge.
I tilted my head, smiling softly. “I’ve got a lecture in ten minutes, but… maybe later?”
He forced a small smile, but I could see the disappointment flash in his eyes. “Sure… later works,” he said, brushing it off, but I caught the tremor in his voice.
As we walked toward the lecture hall, I tried to focus on my sketches, pulling out my notebook. My pencil moved across the page, creating flowing lines for a new dress design, but my eyes kept flicking toward him. Rayan was glancing at me now and then, trying to hide it, and I couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Sweet boy. So earnest. Always trying so hard.
“You’re always sketching,” he said, nodding toward my notebook. “Even in lectures. You’re… really talented, Henzal. Not just saying that — I mean it.”
I laughed softly. “Thanks, Rayan. That’s kind of you.” I paused, letting the words linger. “I’m glad we’re friends. I don’t say it enough, but… friends like you are rare.”
His smile faltered slightly, but warmth lingered in his eyes. “Yeah… friends,” he murmured, barely audible.
The lecture hall loomed ahead. I waved at him. “See you after class?”
“Yeah… see you,” he said, his gaze lingering a moment too long. Then he turned, shoulders slumped just slightly as he walked away.
I slipped into the crowded hall, letting the chatter and laughter wash over me. I pulled out my notebook and tried to focus on the lecture, but my mind kept drifting to Rayan — the way he looked at me, so gentle, so careful, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
By the time class ended, I was already moving toward my next lecture, humming softly to myself. The campus was buzzing, students talking about assignments, weekend plans, and last night’s parties. I noticed the way some glanced at Rayan as he trailed behind me — he always had this quiet gravity that drew attention without him even realizing it.
I ducked into a small courtyard to get some air. The fountain bubbled softly in the center, and a few pigeons fluttered around. I leaned against the edge, stretching, letting the warm sunlight kiss my face. For a moment, everything felt ordinary, calm — the perfect university morning.
Then I heard a faint chuckle behind me.
I froze. It was just Rayan, waving awkwardly from the other side of the courtyard. He jogged over, panting, and held up a small coffee cup. “Thought you could use this… um, before your next lecture.”
I took it, smiling. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”
“I know,” he said, shrugging. “But I wanted to. You always seem… busy. And I figured, maybe… you’d like a friend with coffee?”
I laughed softly. “You’re sweet, Rayan. Really.” My fingers brushed against the warm cup, and I felt a strange comfort in his presence. He really cared. And maybe, just maybe, I liked the attention — in a purely friendly way, of course.
We walked together for a few minutes, chatting about random things — assignments, professors, fashion trends, even the upcoming campus festival. His awkward humor made me laugh more than I expected, and for a second, I forgot about deadlines, lectures, and the monotony of life.
But beneath it all, a small unease lingered. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off. I didn’t know what it was yet, but a shadow of anticipation crawled up my spine, making my stomach tighten.
I waved goodbye as he headed toward his next class. “See you later, Rayan,” I said, smiling.
“Yeah… later,” he replied, glancing back one last time.
I turned toward my design studio, sketches tucked under my arm. Students hurried past, oblivious to my unease. But I couldn’t ignore it. Somewhere in the quiet edges of the campus, I felt a presence. Watching. Waiting. Patient.
And even though I didn’t know it yet, my life was about to change.
I walked faster than usual, glancing nervously at the clock. Oh no… today for sure Mr. Charles will scold me.
The bustling streets of Sydney blurred past as I hurried, my backpack bouncing against my shoulder. The familiar neon sign of Daisy Caffe Shop came into view, and I sighed in relief. Pushing the door open, the comforting scent of coffee beans and pastries hit me immediately.
Quickly, I slipped behind the counter and changed into my waiter uniform, pulling my hair into a neat ponytail.
“You’re late.”
I froze, turning to see Mr. Charles standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. His sharp gaze could pierce steel.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I said, bowing my head slightly. “It’s just… today was packed with university assignments. I couldn’t—”
“Okay, okay, stop your drama,” he interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “Go serve that customer.”
I followed his pointed finger toward the last corner bench. A man sat there, shoulders hunched slightly, wearing a black hoodie. His face was half-hidden in shadow, but his presence immediately made my stomach twist with a strange unease.
I walked over with my usual bright smile, forcing my nerves down. “Good morning, sir. Welcome to Daisy Caffe Shop. What would you like? Cappuccino… latte…?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just watched me. His black eyes were unnervingly familiar, like I had seen them somewhere before, but there was something different, something cold and unreadable behind them. His hair fell slightly over his forehead, framing his face in a way that made him look… dangerous.
“Excuse me, sir?” I repeated, still smiling, though my fingers tingled as I held the notepad.
“Latte,” he said finally, his deep voice low and deliberate.
“Sure, sir. I’ll be back with it in a few minutes.” I forced myself to step away, my pulse racing.
As I prepared the latte, my mind kept flicking back to him. Who was he? Why did his gaze feel like it was looking through me, rather than at me? My hands trembled slightly as I steamed the milk, trying to focus on the task at hand.
When I carried the cup to him, I noticed the way he didn’t flinch, didn’t blink — just kept staring. I set the latte down carefully in front of him.
“Here you go, sir. One latte.”
He didn’t say thank you. Just picked up the cup and sipped, still watching me. A chill crawled up my spine.
I moved on to the next table, pretending everything was normal, but I could feel his gaze following me, even as I bent over to refill someone else’s water glass. The small cafe noises — steaming milk, soft music, customers chatting — felt distant, muted, almost irrelevant.
By the time my shift ended, my back ached and my feet were sore, but my mind couldn’t stop replaying that man. There was something in the way he looked at me… patient, intense, almost like he was studying me.
As I locked the door behind me and stepped out into the cool evening air, I tried to shake it off. It’s probably nothing. Just a customer.
But deep down, I knew it wasn’t nothing.
