Oh There She Goes

A name that lingers,

Ryan tapped his pen against his notebook, letting the rhythmic sound pull him away from his thoughts.

The lecture had ended, but his mind was somewhere else.

A name echoed in his head. Meirou.

It was stupid, really. There was no way, none at all, that it could mean anything. Just a coincidence. A passing thought. And yet, it wouldn't leave him alone.

"Alright, class," the professor's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts. "Before we wrap up, I'd like to announce the highest scorer from the last exam." 

The usual murmurs and side conversations faded slightly. He barely looked up from his notes.

"Ryan Alvarez"

His pen stopped mid-tap.

A few students turned in their seats, some raising their eyebrows in surprise. Even the professor seemed amused. "You slept through my lectures, and yet, somehow, you top the exam. The journey through your unconscious must have been very beneficial after all, what's your secret?"

Ryan blinked. Then, without missing a beat, everyone said in unison

"Lucid dreaming!" Laughter rippled through the classroom.

Ryan exhaled through his nose, forcing a smile. He should've felt something.

Pride, maybe. Satisfaction, maybe.

But instead, all he felt was that same dull ache. That strange, nagging feeling that something was off.

Later that afternoon, The Biochemistry class loomed over him again.

He wasn't looking forward to it after that bitter aftertaste of the lunch he ate, reminiscent of that flavor that was Alie's favorite.

But then she walked in. The girl from before.

She moved quietly, like a shadow slipping into place. Wolf-cut hair, a black oversized jacket that swallowed her frame, finger nails still polychromatic, and stilling around the strap of her bag before she settled into a seat.

Ryan watched as she sat one chair apart from him. Always alone. Just like him.

Something about her was different from the others. Not just quiet, just intentionally distant. He hesitated, then offered a small smile.

"Good afternoon." he said, his voice shaking,

The girl looked at him briefly before nodding.

"Good afternoon, too." Her voice was softer than he expected.

Then, without another word, she pulled out her notes and started writing.

Ryan shifted in his seat.

She was punctual. Focused. Detached. But more than that, she was familiar. And he didn't know why. A beat of silence passed before he cleared his throat.

"Uh… do we have any assignments due today?"

She didn't glance up. "Not that I know of." Her response was short, clipped.

Ryan nodded, tapping his pen against the table. "I was just worried I might've missed a lot of Miss Sierra's lecture."

She only hummed in response. And that was it. Ryan blinked, caught off guard by the abruptness of it. She gave nothing. No small talk. No effort to make the silence less unbearable. Most people, especially girls, would at least try to keep a conversation going, right? But she was different. It was like talking to a wall. But strangely, he found it intriguing.

"What course are you?" he asked, watching her as she scribbled in her notebook. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

"Veterinary Medicine." Ryan raised an eyebrow. "You guys take Biochem?"

"Only this semester," she replied

"That explains everything." And just like that, the conversation died again.

Ryan let the silence settle between them, but it wasn't enough for him to gauge out the essence of their conversation.

So, cautiously, he asked, "By the way… what's your name?"

She stilled. For a moment, he thought she might ignore him. Then, she finally glanced at him, her face unreadable.

"Nicole." He repeated it, letting the name settle in his mind.

Nicole.

It didn't feel like a lie. He chuckled lightly, seemingly satisfied. "That's a nice name. I'm Ryan. I'd offer a handshake, but, you know… social distancing."

Trying to be a jest while talking to wall still isn't going to work, right? True, because she just stared at him. No reaction. No polite laugh. Just a brief, assessing look before she turned back to her notes.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. He had never met someone so unreadable before. 

After class, Ryan was exhausted. As he gathered his things, Nicole suddenly bumped into him. It wasn't hard, but it was enough for her to stumble slightly.

"S-sorry," she muttered, barely meeting his eyes. He steadied himself.

"Wait."

Nicole stopped. He held out a G-Tech pen.

"This fell from your jacket." Nicole blinked, then reached out, fingers grazing his as she took it.

"Oh…" she murmured. "Thank you." and nodded quickly, then turned and walked off, faster than Ryan could even utter a single word.

He watched her go, something unsettling crawling under his skin. Her hand. A scar. Almost healed. It wasn't deep, but it was noticeable-- a small white line across her finger.

Suddenly, John and Kyle arrives unannounced and dragged him into their usual banter.

"Let's drink, brah," John said, slapping Ryan's back. "Your finals are over, right?"

"Actually, I might have to pass this time. I still have a lot of projects to submit."

John groaned. "Ahh, here we go again. Just do that shit at my house! We've got computers and everything! Then we'll have a nice long drinking session."

Kyle smirked. "I'll only drink a little. We had too much last Monday—my liver is crying. But hey, let's call Kaine. They're still studying for Biopsych, but I bet they won't miss it."

Ryan barely registered their voices.

Then--

"Brah," Kyle said suddenly with his voice filled with surprise. "I found another Alter!"

John snatched the phone. "Wait, let me see-- damn! Bruh, wtf?! That look like my boy Bernabe!"

"Bro, that Bernabe from Section D1?! The resemblance is uncanny as hell! I didn't know that innocent looking-ass queer is on to this shit!"

John and Kyle laughed like there was no tomorrow, this is pretty usual in Ryan's friend group. He'd been around them long enough to know this was just how they talked—half-joking, half-shocked at the things people posted online.

Unlike them, he didn't really care. In their group, this kind of thing was just normal people being whoever they wanted to be online. Alter accounts, thirst traps, even guys posting risqué pics, it was just another Tuesday. But curiosity get the goodness out of him,

He frowned. "What's with this alter business lately?"

"It's self-expression, man. Especially for the closeted ones." Kyle grinned as he furiously taps the screen on his phone, seemingly excited to share the news.

John chuckled. "Yeah, like Kyle here, he's closeted"

"Fuck you, man!" 

"So… just like what Christine said, is it, like, online prostitution or something but for queer people and the like?" asked Ryan, wondering,

Kyle shrugged. "Not just for them LGBTQIA+ though , some straight people like Meirou, they also use it as a business, but not all. But most of them do sell nudes, and it is so goddamn profitable! Bernabe's rent must have gotten really high!"

Ryan looked at Kyle's phone.

Meirou's account.

Swimsuit pictures. Suggestive outfits.

She looked beautiful.

Familiar.

Too familiar.

"She does remind me of someone…" Ryan muttered.

Kyle snickered. "JD, Brah, I'm telling Christine that you looked at Meirou's account"

John laughed. "Nah, I've got hundreds of Christine's pictures that I look at everyday. No matter how I look at other girls, I still can't get over hers."

Ryan wasn't listening anymore.

Because a thought had planted itself in his mind.

And it wasn't going away.

Her phone, Nicole's phone. Ryan had seen it before. Same model. Same grip.

That girl, that was typing so fast, that was shaking. He remembered after he gave her the pen, her shoulders slightly trembling, her fingers moving rapidly across the screen.

Was it fear? Was it excitement?

Ryan's stomach twisted. Something didn't add up.

That night, He sat in his dimly lit room, his laptop screen casting a glow on his face. He wasn't doing assignments anymore. Instead, he was searching.

Nicole's social media. Nothing. No accounts. No traces.

Then, almost instinctively, his fingers typed another name.

Meirou.

He scrolled, his eyes narrowing as he examined the posts.

And then he found it.

A picture, her fingers, a bandage. On the exact same spot where he saw the scar. His breath hitched.

No way. His mind raced, thoughts colliding with each other, but before he could fully process it, he grabbed his jacket. He needed air.

The night air was cool, but Ryan barely noticed. He walked along the sidewalk, thoughts spinning, when a woman caught his eye.

She stood under the dim glow of a streetlamp, wolf-cut hair, wearing an oversized linen jacket, a white crop top, a cap, and a black mask. She glanced left and right, shifting on her feet as if waiting for someone.

The darkness was barely forgiving and he needed to take a good look to confirm his suspicions

His breath hitched. His grip tightened inside his pockets.

"Nicole?" or was it really her?

He wasn't sure why he felt the need to confirm.

Something about her stance, the way her fingers tapped against her phone screen, the way she shifted from foot to foot. It mirrored the image burned into his memory.

Slowly, he pulled his hood over his head and walked past her, careful to stay unnoticed. His gaze flickered downward. He searched for something, anything-- the scar.

But it wasn't there. His pulse steadied.

Before he could take another step, a sleek black sedan pulled up in front of the woman. A tall man in a crisp black shirt stepped out, flashing a grin.

Ryan stopped near a balut vendor, pretending to browse. The man's voice carried through the quiet street. The relief came like a wave crashing over him. It wasn't her. The voice, it wasn't hers.

Without hesitation, the woman stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her. The sedan pulled away, its red taillights bleeding into the night. 

He exhaled, pressing his hands against the counter of the vendor's stall.

"You okay, kid?" the vendor asked, plucking a balut from the steamer.

He blinked, realizing he'd been staring at the empty street. He let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… I just thought she was someone else." 

"Happens all the time. These girls all start looking the same at night, don't they?"

He hummed in response, shoving his hands into his pockets.

For the first time that evening, the tension in Ryan's chest loosened. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she wasn't tangled up in this world after all. And for now, that was enough.