---
"Wow, Jill! Congratulations, you finally made it to NYU!" I said, squeezing her hand in excitement.
"This is it!" she replied, her voice filled with a mix of thrill and disbelief.
I grinned. "Come on, let's get your things and take them to your apartment!"
She nodded eagerly, and we both turned toward the car, ready to start this new chapter of her life. The energy of the city buzzed around us—cars honking, people rushing by, and the towering buildings making everything feel so much bigger than us. But in that moment, all that mattered was Jill's dream finally coming true.
After an hour of unloading her things from the car and setting them up in her new apartment, we finally decided to take a break. We sat down on the couch, the weight of the moment settling in.
"I'm so happy for you, Jill," I said, reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.
She let out a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with excitement and nervous energy.
"I'm so glad you fought for the dream you've always wanted—to become a professional photographer," I continued, smiling at her.
Jill chuckled, shaking her head. "It still feels unreal. I mean, NYU? Me? Actually here?"
I laughed. "Believe it, girl. You earned this."
She squeezed my hand back, her gratitude evident in her expression. "I couldn't have done it without you."
The city buzzed faintly outside, but in this little moment, it was just the two of us—two best friends celebrating a dream finally coming true.
"Thank you for helping me get a scholarship from your dad, Nowi," she said, her voice filled with gratitude.
I smiled, squeezing her hand again. "You don't have to thank me, Jill. You deserve this. You worked so hard for it."
She sighed, leaning back against the couch. "You know, my dad would never approve of this. He wanted me to take over the family business, to stay in Chicago and follow the path he set for me." She looked down at her hands, her voice more determined. "But I don't care. This is what I want, and I'm going to get it."
I admired the fire in her eyes, the unwavering resolve. "And you will," I assured her. "You're here now, and nothing—not even your dad's disapproval—can take that away from you."
Jill let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "God, I can't believe this is real."
I grinned. "Well, believe it. You're officially a New Yorker, Jill."
She exhaled, looking around her small but cozy apartment. "Yeah… I really am."
And in that moment, I knew she was ready to chase her dreams, no matter what stood in her way.
"And how about you? Are you really going to enroll in the Conservatory of Music program?" Jill asked, tilting her head slightly as she studied me.
I let out a soft sigh, leaning back against the couch. "Well… yeah. You know I can't oppose my mom. She already planned everything."
Jill frowned. "But is that what you want, Nowi?"
I hesitated for a moment, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric of the cushion. "I mean, I love music, you know that. But… I don't know if I see myself doing it forever. It's just—Mom's so excited about it. She thinks it's the perfect path for me, and I don't want to disappoint her."
Jill crossed her arms. "So, you're doing it for her, not for you?"
I let out a small, dry laugh. "Maybe? I don't know. It's complicated."
Jill sighed and shook her head. "Nowi, you helped me fight for my dreams, but you're just going to let yourself be pushed into something you're unsure about?"
I gave her a weak smile. "Guess I'm not as brave as you, Jill."
She reached for my hand again, squeezing it tightly. "You are brave, Nowi. You just need to find the courage to fight for yourself, the way you fought for me."
Her words lingered in my mind, settling deep in a place I wasn't ready to acknowledge yet.
As we were deep in conversation, a sudden knock interrupted us.
Knock-knock.
"Come in!" Jill called out.
The door slowly opened, and in walked a guy with a strikingly pretty face, pushing his luggage inside. He had sharp yet soft features, tousled dark hair, and a confident yet easygoing presence.
"Oh, hi!" he greeted, giving a small wave. His eyes flickered between the two of us before landing on me. "Are you Jill?" he asked, pointing at me.
Before I could even respond, Jill spoke up. "I am," she said, raising a brow at him.
"Oh!" he said, blinking in surprise before letting out a small chuckle. "I'm sorry about that. I'm Josh, and I think… we're roomies."
Jill and I exchanged glances.
"Wait, what?" she asked, standing up. "Roomies? As in, we're sharing this apartment?"
Josh gave her an awkward smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah… I think so. At least, that's what the housing office told me."
Jill groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You've got to be kidding me."
I couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "Well, this just got interesting."
Josh shifted his weight, still standing by the door with his suitcase. "Well, they told me you didn't apply for a solo apartment, so they assigned me the remaining room here."
Jill let out an exasperated sigh, crossing her arms. "Seriously? I thought I was getting a place to myself."
Josh raised his hands in defense. "Hey, don't look at me. I just go where they tell me."
I glanced between the two of them, holding back a smirk. "So, basically, you two are now roommates whether you like it or not?"
Jill shot me a glare before turning back to Josh. "You know what? Fine. But just so we're clear—no funny business, no messing with my stuff, and absolutely no loud music."
Josh grinned, clearly amused by her frustration. "Got it, boss. No funny business."
I chuckled, watching their dynamic unfold. Something told me this was going to be very entertaining.
"By the way, i'm Jilliana, Jilliana Louisette Gomez and this is my best friend, Noa Ysabelle Schmid." Jill.
Jill grinned as she introduced me. "Noa? Are you—" Josh started, but before he could finish, Jill cut him off.
"Yes! She is the famous cellist in New York," she announced proudly, like she was my personal spokesperson.
Josh blinked, clearly confused. "Cellist? What's that?"
Jill and I exchanged looks, surprised.
Josh continued, "I was actually going to ask if she was Sir Gregory Schmid's daughter… because I'm one of his scholarship recipients."
Jill's excitement deflated in an instant. "Wait—you don't know who Noa is?" She turned to me, dramatically clutching her chest. "This is history in the making!"
I rolled my eyes with a chuckle. "Not everyone listens to classical music, Jill."
Josh let out a small laugh. "Yeah, sorry. Classical music isn't really my thing. But your dad? His scholarship gave me a chance I never thought I'd get."
I smiled, feeling something unfamiliar yet refreshing—someone recognizing my father before they recognized me. "Well, I guess that makes us connected in some way."
Josh raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How's that?"
"We both owe my dad," I said with a teasing smirk.
Josh laughed, shaking his head. "Great. So I should probably stay on your good side, huh?"
"That would be a smart move," I joked.
Jill groaned, throwing a pillow at me. "Enough about your dad! Can we talk about how we're actually here? This is New York, guys! This is our fresh start!"
We all laughed, and just like that, the initial awkwardness faded. Maybe this was the beginning of something unexpected.
"Wait, are you also enrolled here?" Josh asked, turning to me with curiosity.
I shook my head.
Jill leaned back against the couch, smirking. "Noa here is off to the Manhattan School of Music. She's pursuing music."
Josh raised an eyebrow. "Music, huh? What do you play?"
I hesitated for a second, then answered, "Cello."
His expression remained blank. "Cello?"
Jill chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh no… don't tell me you have no idea what that is."
Josh scratched the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. "Uh… should I?"
I stifled a laugh. "It's a string instrument."
"Like a guitar?" he asked, looking hopeful.
Jill burst out laughing. "No, Josh. Not like a guitar."
I smiled. "It's more like a big violin, but deeper in sound."
Josh nodded slowly. "Got it. A big violin." He pointed at me. "You should've just led with that."
I shook my head in amusement while Jill sighed dramatically. "This is gonna be fun."
Josh grinned. "Hey, at least I'm learning something new already."
The lighthearted moment settled in the air between us, the start of something that felt like the beginning of an unforgettable chapter.
"How about you? What program are you enrolled in?" I asked, curious.
"Political Science," Josh answered simply as he pushed his luggage closer to his bedroom door.
Jill raised an eyebrow. "Do you plan to continue to law school?"
Josh nodded, a small smile forming. "Yeah, that's the goal."
"Well, good luck," I said, offering a polite smile.
Jill suddenly leaned forward with a playful smirk. "That was actually her dream." She tilted her head toward me.
Josh turned to me, intrigued. "Really? Why not pursue it?"
I let out a soft sigh, glancing down. "I wish I could."
Josh studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. "What's stopping you?"
I hesitated. "Let's just say… it wasn't part of the plan."
Jill gave me a knowing look but didn't push further. Josh didn't either, but I could tell he was curious.
"Well," he finally said, "if you ever change your mind, I might need a study buddy in the future."
I chuckled lightly. "I'll keep that in mind."
---
*Ring-ring!
The sharp ringing of my alarm jolted me from sleep. Groaning, I groggily pulled off my eye mask, my vision still blurry from the sudden disturbance. Blindly, I reached for my phone on the nightstand, my fingers fumbling over random objects before finally finding it.
With a tired sigh, I turned off the alarm and let my head fall back onto the pillow. Just five more minutes…
Then it hit me—today was my first day of school.
My eyes snapped open as a jolt of panic rushed through me. Shaking off the last traces of sleep, I threw the blanket aside and hurried to the bathroom. The cool tiles sent a shiver up my legs, instantly waking me up as I turned on the sink, splashing water on my face.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror—messy hair, half-lidded eyes, and a lingering look of exhaustion. "Alright, Noa, time to get it together," I muttered to myself before reaching for my toothbrush.
As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing my teeth, a faint memory flickered in my mind.
I dreamed about Jill again.
I paused for a moment, trying to grasp the details, but like always, it was frustratingly unclear—just a blur of images and emotions that slipped away the harder I tried to remember.
Was she saying something? Were we somewhere familiar?
I rinsed my mouth and sighed, gripping the edge of the sink.
Why do I keep dreaming about her? And why can't I ever remember what it's about?
After I finished getting ready, I heard a knock at my door.
"Come in!" I called out, setting down my curling iron.
The door swung open, revealing Dad standing there, holding a small velvet box in his hand. He was dressed in his usual crisp suit, but his warm smile softened his formal appearance.
"Hey, Dad!" I greeted him, running my fingers through my freshly styled hair to shake out the curls.
"Good morning, sweetie! Are you ready for your first day at Stanford?" he asked cheerfully.
I returned his smile and nodded. "Yeah. Thank you, Dad, for making this happen," I said sincerely, adjusting the thick wool cardigan wrapped around me. The winter air outside was freezing, and I was already dreading stepping into it.
Dad chuckled, giving me a gentle pat on the back. "It was you who made it happen, sweetie."
I placed my curler back on the vanity, stood up, and wrapped my arms around him. His familiar scent—something woodsy and comforting—instantly calmed me.
After we pulled away, he handed me the small box. My brows furrowed in curiosity as I opened it, only to gasp in surprise. Inside lay a delicate Cartier necklace with a single diamond pendant that shimmered under the light.
"Dad, what is this for?" I asked, carefully picking up the fine chain.
He took the necklace from my hands, motioning for me to turn around. As he fastened it around my neck, his voice softened.
"This belonged to my mom—your grandmother. You never got to meet her because she passed away when your mom was only three months pregnant with you," he explained. "She originally wanted me to give it to your mom, but when I found out we were having a daughter, I decided to keep it for you."
I touched the pendant, feeling its cool weight against my skin. A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down.
"Thank you, Dad," I whispered, turning to face him.
His eyes were warm with emotion. "She would've been so proud of you, Noa."
A small smile tugged at my lips as I hugged him once more. The icy world outside awaited me, but in this moment, I felt nothing but warmth.
"Shall we go?" Dad said and I nodded excitedly.
As we drove through the cold morning streets, I stared out the window, watching as the city slowly came to life. The heater inside the car kept me warm, but the sight of people bundled up in thick coats and scarves reminded me of how freezing it must be outside.
A sudden thought crossed my mind, and I turned to Dad. "Wait—when will Mom be back?"
"Tomorrow night," he replied, his hands steady on the wheel. "She'll be home just in time, so I made a reservation at our favorite restaurant. Thought it'd be nice for the three of us to have dinner together."
I smiled at the thought. "That sounds great. I've missed her."
Dad chuckled. "Well, you know your mom. Even in her 50s, she just can't leave the opera. The music industry is her whole world."
I let out a soft laugh. "It really is. I don't think I've ever seen her without music in the background. Even when she's working, she always has some classical piece playing."
"That's how she is. Passionate," Dad said, glancing at me briefly before focusing back on the road. "Kind of like you."
I scoffed playfully. "Not exactly. She has a clear passion. I just have a mom who picked one for me."
Dad sighed, but there was no judgment in his expression. "Noa, your mom just wants the best for you. She sees talent in you that maybe you don't see in yourself yet."
I leaned back in my seat, exhaling slowly. "I know. I just wish I had more of a say in it."
Dad didn't press the topic further, and for a while, we sat in comfortable silence, just listening to the soft classical music playing from the car's speakers—undoubtedly something Mom had set before she left.
As we neared Stanford Law School, the towering buildings and the prestigious air of the campus made my stomach twist slightly.
Dad glanced at me again. "Nervous?"
"A little," I admitted. "It's just... intimidating. Everyone here actually wants to be a lawyer, and I'm just..."
"Just figuring things out," he finished for me. "And that's okay, Noa. No one has it all figured out on day one."
The car slowed as we reached the entrance. He pulled up to the drop-off area, and I sighed, staring at the grand building ahead of me.
"You're going to be amazing," Dad reassured me.
I turned to him, giving him a small smile. "Thanks, Dad. I'll see you later?"
"Of course. Call me if you need anything."
With that, I grabbed my bag, stepped out into the crisp winter air, and faced the start of something I wasn't sure I was ready for.
As I continued walking down the hallway, my eyes scanned the door numbers, searching for my classroom. The building was massive, and the endless rows of students moving in different directions made it even more overwhelming.
Then, just as I was turning a corner, I heard a voice. A voice that instantly ignited my irritation.
I knew that voice.
I stopped in my tracks, my mind racing back to last week—when someone rudely bumped into me, almost making me fall, and barely spared an apology. My brows furrowed as I turned toward the source.
There he was, standing in front of the bulletin board, reading something intently.
Without thinking twice, I marched toward him and tapped his back. "Excuse me?"
He turned around, confused, and the moment our eyes met, I knew I was right. My brow lifted in irritation.
"I knew it! It was you!" I huffed, crossing my arms.
His expression twisted in confusion as he glanced around, as if checking whether I was talking to someone else. When he realized I was directing my anger at him, he pointed to himself hesitantly. "M...me?"
"Yes, you!" I scoffed.
"I'm sorry, do I know you, Miss?" he asked, still clearly lost.
I exhaled sharply, already losing patience. "You bumped into me last week, almost knocking me to the ground. Ring a bell?"
His eyes studied me for a second, and recognition flickered in them. He looked slightly guilty, but I wasn't going to let him off easily. I lifted a brow, silently daring him to deny it.
"Ah... yeah," he finally admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I'm really sorry about that. I was running late for class, and I swear I didn't mean to bump into you. It's just… well, you were also kinda blocking the way, Miss."
My jaw dropped. "Blocking the way?" My irritation skyrocketed. "Are you seriously trying to blame me right now?"
He took a slight step back as if sensing the incoming storm. "N-no! That's not what I meant! I just—"
Before he could finish, his smartwatch beeped. He glanced at it, and his eyes widened. "Oh crap—I'm sorry, but I really have to go!"
And just like that, he dashed off before I could even react.
I stood there, fists clenched, fuming. "Unbelievable!"
I was about to chase after him when my own smartwatch rang, signaling the start of my class.
With a groan of frustration, I turned on my heel and hurried toward my classroom.
This isn't over.