The Trip

The professor entered with an air of formality, scanning the room with an experienced gaze as he approached the desk. His expression remained impassive—until his eyes found Deenal among the students. For the briefest of moments, something shifted. A warm, pleased smile spread across his face, the kind that sent an unexpected wave of goosebumps over those observant enough to catch it. It wasn't just politeness—it was pride, recognition, a mentor acknowledging the rising success of someone he clearly favored. That rare smile disappeared almost instantly, swallowed up by his usual cold, professional demeanor as he placed his books down with precision and adjusted his spectacles.

Clearing his throat with a composed firmness, he addressed the small group gathered in the lecture hall.

"Before we proceed, I'd like to express my gratitude to Mr. Deenal. His efforts greatly contributed to securing the upcoming NASA launch facility visit for our university."

There was a pause before a polite, scattered round of applause trickled through the classroom. Some students offered nods of acknowledgment, others threw Deenal glances of admiration, indifference, or thinly-veiled envy. Deenal merely gave a humble nod, seemingly unaffected by the attention. It was the kind of demeanor that suggested he was familiar with success, with praise. Alexander watched this display, his jaw tightening imperceptibly. It was all too familiar.

His mind, however, was no longer anchored in the classroom. He barely registered the professor's speech. Instead, his thoughts splintered into chaotic fragments, still reeling from the emotional blow that had struck earlier that day. The image of Selene's chat with Anurag, their intimate teasing, her flattery about his sister, the flirtatious undertones—it all collided violently in his head, repeating like a broken record.

The headache that had begun moments earlier now pressed against his temples with unbearable intensity. It wasn't just the betrayal—it was the absurdity of it all. The mockery. He, the heir of a hidden empire so vast and powerful that few could comprehend it, was sitting here feeling like a clown in a farcical drama written by the universe.

He clenched his jaw, fingers curling slightly against the desk. His heart pounded not with fear, but with a festering, suppressed rage. A boiling mix of humiliation and hurt. Rage coiled within him, venomous and sharp, wrapping itself around his mind like a noose.

"Drop it, Alex. Drop it. You own the world," he whispered to himself, the words barely audible even to his own ears.

The self-reminder was like a thin rope tossed into a storm. But he held onto it, focusing on the sheer ridiculousness of letting his emotions drown him. It gave him just enough footing to ground himself, at least partially.

Thwack!

Something smacked him directly in the forehead. Pain flashed across his brow, and his body jerked upright. Eyes blinking rapidly, he saw the culprit—chalk. A small piece had landed on his desk after colliding with his head.

Alexander looked up, momentarily dazed.

The professor stood with arms folded, his expression hardened with irritation.

"Mr. Alexander," he snapped. "I expect you to pay attention. Deenal has worked hard for this opportunity—not everyone can pull something like this off. When someone else achieves what you couldn't, the least you can do is appreciate it. Don't sulk like a spoiled child."

A silence fell over the room like a cold fog. Even the quiet scribbles stopped. Every eye in the class was on him. Alexander stared blankly, lips slightly parted. The sting of the chalk had already faded, but the sting of the words remained.

He didn't argue. He didn't speak. He just gave a slow, almost mechanical nod, accepting the words without care. Inside, he was too numb to react.

The remainder of the class passed in a surreal blur. The professor's voice was distant, like someone speaking through a thick wall. Words, sentences, even diagrams on the board came and went, failing to pierce the storm cloud that clung to Alexander's thoughts. His mind was a maelstrom, a tornado of fury, confusion, and heartbreak.

The bell marking the end of class was a distant echo. Slowly, he rose from his seat, body moving on instinct. As he exited the classroom, a subtle murmur near the notice board caught his attention. Students had clustered around it, whispering among themselves.

Drawn more by habit than curiosity, Alexander made his way over.

Pinned to the board was a new notice. The paper looked freshly printed, the ink still dark and gleaming.

NOTICE: NASA Trip Scheduled for the Day After Tomorrow. The Final List of Selected Students Will Be Announced Tomorrow.

Alexander's eyes scanned the words, and for a brief second, something stirred. Not interested, not even curious—just acknowledgment. He exhaled through his nose and turned away. It didn't matter. None of it did right now.

He looked around briefly. Emma and Noah weren't nearby. A small wave of relief washed over him. They would have probably come running with more screenshots, more chat logs, more evidence of Selene's betrayal. And even if he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to tell them, "Stop. I've had enough." Because his mind wouldn't allow it. His heart still craved pain, perhaps as punishment, perhaps out of masochism.

Instead of waiting around, he stepped out into the parking lot and flagged down a taxi. The idea of facing them right now was too much. He needed solitude. He needed silence.

The cab ride home was muted. The driver didn't speak, and Alexander didn't offer conversation. He sat with his forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the city rush by in a stream of smeared neon lights and smog-colored sky.

In the shelter of the moving car, he let his mind go blank.

The taxi pulled up to his apartment. Alexander stepped out, thanked the driver with a muted nod, and climbed the stairs like a ghost. Unlocking the door, he moved through the familiar spaces as if underwater. His stomach rumbled faintly, but he ignored it. The weight in his chest was heavier than any hunger.

He kicked off his shoes, stumbled into the bedroom, and fell onto the mattress without bothering to change. His eyes closed the moment his head hit the pillow.

Sleep came instantly.

And for once, Alexander didn't resist the pull of darkness.