A gentle breeze swept through the college campus as Max walked through the front gates. His hoodie was pulled up, backpack slung casually over one shoulder. Whispers followed him as curious eyes trailed his steps. Some students exchanged glances, wondering who the mysterious new boy was.
Max didn't meet anyone's gaze. He kept his head slightly lowered, a habit that never really left him. Inside, he was a mess of nerves—but on the outside, he was calm, composed… unreadable.
As he walked past a group of students, one girl nudged her friend.
"He's cute. Do you think he's single?"
"I haven't seen him before. Maybe a transfer?"
Max let out a quiet sigh and walked faster.
He reached the back of the building where the rest of his group usually hung out. The moment he turned the corner, Mark called out, grinning wide.
"There he is! Our mysterious man!"
"Finally showed up," Tik added, tossing him a cold bottle of water.
Lucian, Jack, Sol, and Tul were all there, lounging around like always. It felt normal—safe.
Max gave a nod to each of them. Jack, his classmate, smirked and said, "Looking good, Max. Almost forgot you were ever a girl."
"Shut up," Max muttered, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
They all laughed, and for a while, it felt like nothing had changed. But they were careful. No one called him "she," and they never mentioned the past when anyone else was around.
"Remember," Jack said quietly, leaning toward Max. "People still think you're a transfer student. Don't mess that up."
"I know," Max said, sipping his water.
Tik and Tul, both from the automobile engineering branch, exchanged a look. "You're adjusting better than we thought," Tul said. "Almost like you were always like this."
Lucian, their friend from the architecture department—femboy and always fabulous—rested his chin on his hand and smiled. "Well, Max does look good in both lives. Now he's just serving a different kind of look."
Max rolled his eyes, but it felt nice. These were his people.
In class, Max sat with Jack and Mark—his classmates since the beginning. The professor introduced him again to the group as a transfer student.
"He just joined last month. Quiet kid. Focused," the professor said with a smile.
"Too focused," one of the girls whispered, twirling her pen and eyeing Max.
"Still cute, though."
Max kept his expression neutral. He wasn't used to attention—especially not like this.
One boy in the front row glanced back more than once, eyes narrowed like he was trying to remember something.
Max noticed—but said nothing.
The month passed quickly.
Max slowly adapted to this new routine. He kept his grades up, stayed close to his group, and avoided anything that might blow his cover. But no matter how well things went, there was still that odd ache in his chest—a kind of loneliness that never left.
Late in the afternoon, he sat on the rooftop, legs hanging over the edge, staring at the sky. The city below buzzed with life, but up here it was quiet. Peaceful.
His phone buzzed.
Lucas: Just landed in Thailand. Let's meet up?
Max froze. The text stared back at him like it had weight.
He blinked a few times, heart thudding.
Then slowly, he typed back:
Max: …Where?
To be continued...