forced together.
Bangkok University pulsed with the energy of a new semester. The campus was a patchwork of modern glass buildings and leafy courtyards, alive with the chatter of students and the distant hum of traffic from Sukhumvit Road. In the Engineering Faculty’s main hall, Phum adjusted his glasses and scanned the noticeboard, searching for his name among the list of project leaders. He found it, right at the top—just as he expected.
He allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. First place, again.
Across campus, in the Performing Arts building, Win was already basking in the applause of his classmates. He’d just finished a monologue for his acting workshop, and the professor had called it “electric.” Win grinned, bowing with a flourish. He loved the spotlight, the thrill of being seen.
But the thrill faded when his phone buzzed with a new message:
Inter-Faculty Project Announcement. All team leaders report to the auditorium at 10:00.
Win groaned. Inter-faculty projects were always a headache. He’d have to work with someone from Engineering—probably some uptight, rule-obsessed nerd.
At 10:00 sharp, the auditorium filled with students from both faculties. Phum took a seat near the front, notebook in hand. Win sauntered in a few minutes late, sliding into the row behind him. They didn’t notice each other—yet.
The Dean took the stage, her voice echoing through the hall. “This year’s project will be a collaboration between Engineering and Performing Arts. Each team will create a performance that incorporates engineering principles. The theme is ‘Bridging Worlds.’ Team leaders, please come forward.”
Phum stood, as did Win. They met at the foot of the stage, both pausing when they saw each other. Win’s eyes narrowed. Phum’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“You’re the acting guy,” Phum said, recognizing Win from the university’s promotional posters.
“And you’re the engineering genius,” Win shot back, folding his arms.
The Dean smiled, oblivious to the tension. “Phum and Win, you’ll be leading the first team. I expect great things from you both.”
As they left the stage, Win muttered, “Try not to slow me down.”
Phum bristled. “Just don’t turn this into a circus.”
Their teammates exchanged nervous glances.
Later that afternoon, Phum trudged back to his condo, a sleek high-rise just off campus. He punched the elevator button for the twelfth floor, lost in thought. The doors slid open, and he nearly bumped into Win, who was juggling a bag of groceries and a script.
“You live here?” Win asked, incredulous.
Phum nodded. “Twelve A.”
Win smirked. “Twelve C. Great. Just great.”
They rode the elevator in silence, the air thick with unspoken rivalry.
That night, as Phum sat at his desk, drafting ideas for the project, he could hear faint laughter and music through the wall. Win was rehearsing, his voice rising and falling in dramatic waves. Phum sighed, rubbing his temples.
This was going to be a long semester.
