The city felt too big for me on my first day. Strange roads, strange faces, and now a college that felt like a universe of its own. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I walked into the classroom. I tried to look calm, tried not to let the nervousness creep onto my face. That’s something I’ve always been good at—hiding what I feel. Even if I were stuck in an elevator, I wouldn’t scream for help. I’d just freeze, waiting in silence.

So I sat there, quiet, eyes scanning the room, hoping—praying—to find someone whose energy matched mine.

In today’s generation, I often felt a gap with people my age. Too many seemed busy showing off, being loud, or acting rude to get noticed. I never really fit into that.

And then she walked in.

Her smile lit up the space, effortless and confident. She carried herself with a carefree vibe. But unlike others, there was no arrogance, no showing off—just a simple, natural confidence.

She turned to me.

 “What’s your name?” she asked, her voice warm, curious.

I introduced myself, steady as always, masking the nerves buzzing inside me.

Then she smiled brighter and said, in the most unforgettable way:

 “Hey, myself Kenly!”

 I knew, right then, she would be my very first friend in college.

She sat beside me, and we talked. To my surprise, our vibes matched. Suddenly, the city didn’t feel so strange anymore.

And then… a guy walked into the class.

 Not dramatically, not like in the movies with music playing in the background,

 but in a way only my heart seemed to notice—

 like time slowed down just for me.

The way his eyes met mine felt like a spark,

 the kind that doesn’t burn, but makes your chest tighten in the sweetest way.

And when he smiled…

 I wished I could stop time right there.

 I’ve never been the type who loves taking pictures of myself,

 but with him, in that moment,

 I wanted to capture everything—

 his smile, that spark, the way the world felt different all of a sudden.

But wait—whattt?!

 That’s when it hit me—

 I’d seen those eyes before.

Flashback — Three Months Ago

Three months ago, when I was still applying to different colleges, I went to the mall with my parents. I wasn’t really paying attention—eyes glued to my phone—when suddenly, I bumped into someone.

He seemed about my age. Manly, yet subtly pretty. His gaze locked onto mine, and in that instant, everything around me froze. His smell, the intensity of his eyes, the way he looked right into me—it made my mind go completely blank.

And then, before I could stop myself, words slipped out of my mouth.

 "You look so gorgeous it actually hurts. "

The second it left my lips, my brain screamed, WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST SAY?!

Heat rushed to my face. My heart thudded so loud I thought people around could hear it. Without giving him another glance, I shot to my feet, turned around, and ran.

I ran as fast as I could, wishing the ground would just swallow me whole.

 To this day, that moment holds first place on my personal list of Most Embarrassing Life Incidents.

Back to the Present

My eyes instantly avoided his. I tried my best not to look at him, praying he’d sit somewhere far away. But no—his steps kept coming closer. My heart raced faster with every one.

I tugged my head down, pretending to check something in my notebook, hoping he wouldn’t notice me. But curiosity betrayed me. I tilted my head up just a little, just enough to peek.

And there he was.

 Standing right next to my seat.

My heartbeat jumped into my throat. I could feel the heat flooding my face, turning me red, but I forced myself to stay still, my expression calm, as if nothing unusual was happening. Inside though, I was screaming— Nooo, stop, dude, just go away!

I slowly turned my head toward him, just slightly. And then he smiled.

That smile told me everything.

 He remembered.

My stomach flipped. My Most Embarrassing Life Incident was now standing alive in front of me, on the very first day of college.

He leaned down a little, voice calm, casual, but with that teasing glint in his eyes.

“Hi, myself Austin” he said with that mischievous smile.

I froze. The words hit me like a flash grenade. He was mocking me—I could feel it. Not directly, not cruelly, but in that subtle, teasing way that made my chest tighten even more.

I forced a polite smile, pretending not to understand what he meant. “Hi,” I replied, keeping my voice steady, casual. My face was calm, but inside, my brain was shouting: Oh god, he remembers, he definitely remembers. Please don’t bring it up. Please don’t say it out loud.

He slid into the seat behind me, still smirking. I could feel his gaze on the back of my head.

“So…” he leaned a little forward, his voice low enough for only me to hear, “do I look… what was it you said that day? Gorgeous?”

My heart stopped.

 Heat shot up my cheeks.

I whipped around just enough to glare at him. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said quickly, my words tumbling out faster than I intended.

He chuckled softly, leaning back in his seat, clearly enjoying my panic. “Relax, I’m just joking,” he said, raising his hands in mock innocence. But that smile—that smile said everything.

Kenly, who was sitting beside me, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?” she whispered, curious.

“Nothing,” I said too quickly, slamming my notebook shut as if that could erase the entire situation.

But the truth was clear:

 This was the same guy.

 The mall incident guy.

 And now, somehow, he was part of my college story.

From then onwards, I made it my mission to run whenever I saw him. Just run, run, run. And every single time, without fail, he would smile at me. that smile “It wasn’t mocking, it was gentle even — and maybe that’s what scared me the most.” . This little game went on for a month , until the announcement came: the Freshmen Party.

Oh wait, I forgot to introduce myself properly.

 I’m not the kind of girl who turns heads when she walks into a room.  My skin isn’t the fairest, and while my hair is long, I’ve never thought it made me beautiful. Honestly, if there were ten people in a room, I’d probably be the one you wouldn’t notice.

That’s how I’ve always seen myself—ordinary, invisible, underconfident about my looks.

So when a guy this gorgeous, this unreal, keeps smiling at me… my brain doesn’t even allow me to think it’s genuine. It’s easier to believe he’s just making fun of me. That’s safer. Because the alternative—the thought of him actually noticing me in a way that matters—feels impossible. Dangerous, even.

So I don’t let myself imagine anything romantic, not even for a second with him .

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I wore a black bodycon dress that wasn’t too deep, just perfect—the kind I’d always wanted to wear. Three months ago, I would have never imagined putting it on. But in these past months, I had been working hard on myself. I had lost some weight and for the first time, when I looked into the mirror, I felt good.

I thought, Maybe I don’t look that bad.

Of course, I know losing weight doesn’t magically make someone beautiful. Beauty isn’t measured in numbers. But for me, it wasn’t about the weight—it was about the confidence I was slowly finding in myself. And that night, standing in front of the mirror, I felt it.

I entered the party with my roommate, Shally, and my best friend, Kenly. They went straight to the dance floor, pulling me along. “Come on, Yami, let’s dance!” they cheered.

But with my shy personality, I politely declined, shaking my head with a small smile. I stayed back, watching them lose themselves in the music.

And then he came.

 Mr. Gorgeous.

Looking devastatingly good in a black suit that made him stand out in the crowd. His steps slowed when he saw me. His eyes—those same eyes I’d once called gorgeous out loud—scanned me head to toe, lingering for just a second too long. My chest tightened.

Panic rising, I did what I always do around him—avoid. Without a thought, I slipped into the crowd, raising both my hands and swaying with the music, pretending I was vibing, pretending I was invisible.

But he followed.

I didn’t notice until I felt the warmth of his presence just behind me. Close enough that my heartbeat spiked. Close enough that I froze in the middle of the music.

He leaned down, his breath brushing my ear.

“Your zip,” he whispered.

My eyes went wide. My stomach dropped.

He placed his hand gently around my waist, steady but firm, and guided me out of the crowd. My pulse was racing so fast, I thought the whole room could hear it. He stopped in a quiet corner where the lights were dim, where no one else was around.

“Let me help,” he said softly.

I froze. My body was shivering, my face burning red. This was the first time I had ever felt something like this—like my breath wasn’t mine anymore. Honestly, I thought, I should buy myself an inhaler because whenever he’s around, I lose my breath.

His fingers brushed the back of my dress as he zipped it up slowly. I thought I would faint right there. And then, leaning closer, his lips almost grazing my ear, he whispered:

“You look gorgeous.”

Something in me snapped.

I spun around, pushing him back until his shoulders met the wall. One hand pressed against the wall beside him, I tilted my head up, locking my eyes with his.

“Yes,” I said, my voice steady, bold, a fire I didn’t know I had spilling out. “That’s me—the mall girl. I knew you remembered me. I misspoke that day—no, wait, I didn’t misspeak. You are gorgeous. Absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous.”

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He just stared at me, eyes dark, unreadable.

And then, realizing what I’d just done, I quickly turned away. My steps were confident, but inside my mind was screaming: Oh no, oh no, oh no. I’ve lost it. I’ve gone completely insane! What was I even thinking?!

I had barely taken three steps before his voice cut through the music, low but clear.

“Stop avoiding me.”

I froze.

“Stop running away,” he said again, this time firmer.