The Locked Door

The morning sunlight filtered gently through the thin hostel curtains, casting golden stripes across the floor. Amara stood by the mirror, tying her hair into a neat ponytail with practiced ease. Her outfit was simple, like always—a soft beige shirt tucked into dark blue jeans, clean but understated. She dabbed a bit of lip balm on and gave herself a quick once-over. That was her version of 'ready.'

Behind her, the door creaked open and Nia walked in, already radiating effortless glamor despite the early hour. Her hair was perfectly styled, her eyeliner sharp, and her lip gloss catching the light with every step. Even her casual joggers looked like they belonged in a fashion magazine.

"You have a morning class?" Nia asked, tossing her tote bag onto the bed and stretching like a cat who'd just returned from a luxurious nap.

Amara nodded, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. "Yeah. You're not going?"

Nia scratched her head sheepishly, her perfectly manicured nails disappearing into soft curls. "Nope." she said with a small, guilty smile. "I need to freshen up first. I'll head in after the break."

Amara just smiled knowingly. "Sure."

As Amara reached for her water bottle, Nia flopped onto her bed with a soft sigh and said casually, "Oh, by the way, Ryan asked if we wanted to grab lunch tomorrow."

Amara paused mid-motion. "Ah… not tomorrow," she said quickly, almost too quickly.

Nia blinked. "Why? It's the weekend. You're going home, aren't you?"

Amara hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying, "No. I have… an interview."

An unreadable expression flickered across Nia's face, but before she could ask anything else, Amara grabbed her phone and offered a hasty smile. "Okay, see you later!"

And just like that, she was out the door, leaving a faint trail of citrus perfume and unspoken things behind her.

After class ended, the senior members of the university photography club gathered in their usual corner room, tucked away behind the auditorium. The space was filled with the low hum of discussions, camera equipment stacked neatly on shelves, and sunlight casting stripes across the wooden floor.

Max leaned against a desk while Irin adjusted her glasses and pulled up the agenda on the projector screen. They went over upcoming events, assignment deadlines, and a new inter-college competition. The meeting flowed smoothly, punctuated by the occasional debate over lighting preferences and editing techniques.

An hour later, most of the members stretched, packed up, and began filtering out, already chatting about dinner plans or pending submissions.

But a few remained behind.

At the back of the room, Liana sat hunched over her laptop, fingers dancing across the keys as she adjusted the club's online gallery. Beside her, Kelly scrolled through her phone, her manicured nails tapping rhythmically against the glass screen.

Liana glanced sideways. "Did you finish reviewing the paper edit for tomorrow?"

Kelly groaned, not looking up. "Ugh. No. You know I'm not exactly in the best mood."

Liana raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess… your boyfriend drama again?"

Kelly rolled her eyes. "Why would I waste my mood on him?"

Liana chuckled softly, clicking through folders on her screen. "Just checking."

A moment passed before Kelly broke the silence again. "Hey, about that editing task for the exhibition board—can we dump it on a fresher? I'm too swamped."

Liana tilted her head, intrigued. "Any fresher in mind?"

Kelly smirked, lifting her gaze. "What about that backdrop girl?"

Liana's lips twitched upward. "You mean Amara?"

"Yeah, that one. She's pretty good. Quiet. Precise. Doesn't complain."

Liana shut her laptop and leaned back. "Sure. I'll assign it to her."

Kelly hesitated. "But what if she says no? You've already dumped a ton of work on her lately."

Liana gave her a side glance, expression unreadable. "She won't say no. She's too… nice. And a little dumb. But sweet, hardworking. Honestly, kind of refreshing."

Kelly let out a surprised laugh. "Wow. Listen to you. You sound like you've found your favorite junior."

Liana scoffed, feigning insult. "Favorite? Please. She's just… innocent. It's entertaining."

Both girls burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the empty walls.

Unbeknownst to them, someone had been quietly working at the far side of the room—half hidden behind a rack of photo backdrops. The scraping of a chair broke through their laughter like a warning bell.

They both froze.

A tall figure stood up from behind the table and walked past them—confident, composed, cold. Kieran.

He didn't say a word. Didn't glance at them. Just walked past with that usual expressionless look on his face, backpack slung over one shoulder, footsteps steady.

The door clicked softly shut behind him.

Kelly's eyes widened as she sat up. "Oh my god. Was he listening?"

Liana's smirk faded. "I… don't know."

Kelly clutched her phone. "Hey! Did you see his face? What if—what if it's true?"

Liana frowned. "What's true?"

Kelly nudged her with a dramatic gasp. "That Amara might be his girlfriend!"

Liana turned to her with an incredulous snort. "Are you insane? Kieran Hale? With a girl like Amara?"

Kelly shrugged. "He didn't look angry. Just… tight. Like he heard everything."

Liana waved her off. "He always looks like that. That's just his face."

But Kelly stayed quiet for a moment longer, doubt flickering in her eyes.

Because something about the way Kieran left—quick, cold, clipped—didn't feel like 'just his face.'

Outside the campus, dusk was settling in like soft watercolor over the city. The street lamps flickered to life, casting long golden shadows as Kieran, Max, and a couple of club friends strolled toward a nearby café just off the university street. The group chatted about everything from the upcoming exhibition to favorite coffee orders, their voices mingling with the gentle hum of early evening traffic.

The café was a cozy, indie corner joint, the kind that smelled like roasted beans and cinnamon. They grabbed drinks—iced Americanos for Kieran and Max, something sweeter for the others—and settled at a table by the window. Conversations drifted into personal territory: annoying professors, weekend plans, half-abandoned dreams.

By the time they left, the stars were out.

Eventually, the group split, offering waves and goodnights, leaving just Max and Kieran walking side by side down the quieter stretch of road leading toward their shared apartment. Their grandmother, ever the worrier, had arranged a modest two-bedroom unit close to campus, insisting they stay somewhere safe and comfortable—under her invisible but ever-watchful radar. They didn't mention it to most people. Everyone just assumed they lived in the dorms like the rest.

Max sipped the last of his coffee before glancing sideways. "I ran into Amara today."

Kieran didn't react. Not right away.

Max's lips twitched. He was used to the silence. "She was carrying this stack of folders like the world depended on her. Looked like she was about to trip, but then she smiled at me like it was nothing. Kinda funny."

Still, Kieran said nothing.

Max chuckled. "Man, I really don't get it. All those girls practically throw themselves at you, and you walk around like you don't even notice."

He looked over again. "And you…" He shook his head with a grin. "You're the human equivalent of a locked door."

Kieran glanced at him, something unreadable in his eyes.

Max raised his brows, testing. "So? Anything you wanna share?"

Kieran looked ahead again, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips, but his voice came out low, cool, as always. "You talk too much."

Max laughed. "That's not a denial."