No thoughts, just vending machines

Keanu didn't plan on kicking the vending machine. It just sort of… happened.

He stared at the machine's blinking red light. "Card declined." Again. He held his chipped student ID card like it had personally offended him.

Behind him, a growing line of caffeine-deprived students mumbled.

"Bro," said a hoodie-wearing guy. "You gonna move or…?"

Keanu turned around slowly. "You ever feel like the world just… doesn't want you to have a Twix?"

The guy blinked. "What?"

Keanu kicked the machine.

CLUNK.

A can of iced coffee dropped instead.

"…Close enough," Keanu muttered, grabbing it.

He walked outside, cracked open the can, and sipped. Bitter. Too sweet. Perfect.

A professor walked by, mid-sentence on the phone. "I don't care if he's a genius, you don't stab someone over a group project—"

Keanu made a sharp turn into the campus garden.

He sat on a bench under a tree and closed his eyes. For a brief moment, the world was quiet. No vending machines. No forced small talk. No one asking if he was that Keanu.

Until someone sat beside him.

"Hey, you dropped this," a girl said, holding out a crumpled receipt.

Keanu opened one eye. "That's not mine."

She shrugged. "Okay. Want to talk about the weather?"

"No."

"Cool. It's stupid anyway."

He chuckled.

They sat in silence for a while.

Then she leaned in. "You've got a weird vibe. Are you one of those guys who like… collects knives or something?"

Keanu blinked. "Do I look like someone who collects them?"

"No. You look like someone who uses them."

He smiled. Then stood up.

And before she could say another word, he walked behind the bench, drew a blade, and ended the conversation mid-breath.

Blood ran between the cobblestones like spilled soda.

Keanu wiped his blade with the vending machine receipt she gave him.

"Should've asked if she had change for a KitKat."

"Damn, Daniel… back at it again with the red flags."