Onyx's POV
The next day, I was already inside the classroom, seated in the exact same spot as yesterday—where the air-conditioning barely reached and no one bothered to look twice. My laptop was open, lines of code filling the screen as I worked on the first section of the Capstone Project.
Around me, the room was alive in the way classrooms always were before lectures officially began. My classmates clustered in small groups, leaning into each other's space. Laughter rose and fell. Stories were exchanged. Chairs scraped against the floor as people shifted closer, louder, warmer.
And then there was me—separate, unaffected.
Alone. Quiet. At the back. Fingers moving steadily over the keyboard.
Jace still wasn't here.
Which was preferable.
Just the thought of him sitting nearby made my shoulders tense, like my body was already bracing for impact. He didn't even have to do anything. The possibility alone was enough. He existed like a loose electric wire—unpredictable, dangerous if touched at the wrong moment.
I glanced at my phone, resting beside my laptop, checking for any message from him. An absence notice. A late warning. Anything.
There was nothing.
No explanation. No apology. No message at all.
His absence simplified the situation. Better if today remained quiet.
With no new distractions, I turned back to my work and let myself sink into it—the comfort of structure, of logic, of things that followed rules.
Then my phone buzzed.
Not the phone on my desk.
The other one. One for my secret sideline.
I froze for half a second before reaching into my pocket and pulling it out.
Before, I used to keep everything on a single device. Messages mixed together. Names overlapping. Risks multiplying. I learned quickly that it was a mistake. Now, the separation was deliberate. Necessary. A wall between who I was in class and who I became when someone needed a problem quietly solved.
The screen lit up.
Unknown Number:
Hi!!! Sorry this is super random but my friend gave me your number. He said you're legit and not a scam so I'm trusting him on this one. Please help me with my unit requirement. T.T
Sent: 7:52 a.m.
I stared at the message.
Three exclamation points.
That was new.
I typed back without hesitation.
Me:
Okay. Please send the project
details and your name so I can
check the scope and set the price.
Sent: 7:52 a.m.
There was a pause. Just long enough for me to assume she was typing too much.
Then—
Unknown Number:
OMG okay sorry!!! I forgot to introduce myself.
I'm Melody!!!
3rd-year I.T. student.
This is for our Web Application Development unit and I'm already panicking even though it's just the start of the semester.
I need a personal project website.
Requirements are:
– Responsive website
– At least 4 pages
– JavaScript functionality
– Contact form (no email sending needed)
– Screenshots + short write-up
– Zip file + PDF report
Deadline is next week, Friday.
Nothing fancy, promise T.T I just want to pass and sleep properly again.
Please tell me if you can do it and how much. ;D
Sent: 7:55 a.m.
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
At least she was honest.
I replied.
Me:
Okay. I can do that.
Total cost is ₱3,000.
Downpayment is ₱1,500.
If you agree, you can transfer it to this account:
Commonwealth Digital Bank
Account Name: O. Calder
Account Number: HDB-4729-8831
Notify me once transferred, I said.
Sent: 7:55 a.m.
Her response came almost instantly, like she had been holding her breath the entire time.
Melody:
OKAY YES DEAL! T.T
Please wait and I'll transfer now!!!
Sent: 7:56 a.m.
Not even a full minute passed.
Melody:
SENT!!!
Please tell me if it went through T.T
Also sorry if I sound super persistent. HAHAHA!!! I'm just really desperate. T.T
Sent: 7:56 a.m.
I opened my banking app.
The transfer had already reflected.
Me:
Received.
I'll start today. I'll update
you once there's progress.
Sent: 7:56 a.m.
Another message appeared almost immediately.
Melody:
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!
You're literally saving my life.
I promise I won't bother you too much...
Okay maybe just a little bit ;)
Sent: 7:56 a.m.
I stared at the screen.
This girl was the complete opposite of me. Loud. Expressive. Friendly to the point of recklessness. The kind of person who treated strangers like friends after a few minutes of conversation.
She already sounded like she thought we were close.
There was a short pause.
Then—
Melody:
Actually... how do you even sleep with all the things you do? You're amazing!!! T.T
Sent: 7:57 a.m.
My fingers hovered over the screen.
I didn't reply.
Instead, I locked the phone and slid it back into my pocket, returning my attention to the quiet certainty of my laptop screen.
Some clients were silent.
Some were demanding.
And some—
Some talked too much.
Like Melody, who loved using three exclamation points and that 'T.T', everything about her felt loud, bright, panicking and relentlessly energetic.
"Hi, Onyx."
The voice startled me just enough to pull me out of my thoughts.
A classmate had slipped into the seat beside me—the one Jace occupied yesterday.
"Yes?" I asked politely. "Do you need help?" I said.
She nodded, relief washing over her features.
"Yes! Good thing we're still classmates," she said brightly. "That means I can ask you if I need something."
That was how they saw me.
Or rather—when they saw me at all.
Only in moments like this. When they needed help.
And that was fine. It wasn't as if I felt hurt when no one spoke to me unless they needed something. I didn't resent it. I never complained.
I was already used to it.
"My partner and I already started working on the Capstone Project, but we're already confused with the first part of the task," she said, her words rushing out. "Can you teach me how to do it?"
"That's simple," I said. "Here, I'll show you."
I turned my laptop slightly toward her and began explaining—slowly, carefully—breaking the task down into clean steps. I chose my words the way I always did: precise, neutral, easy to follow. I pointed at the screen, tracing logic paths, translating technical jargon into something manageable.
She leaned closer, nodding, following along.
Then I stopped mid-sentence.
My voice died in my throat not because I ran out of breath, it's because someone just showed up.
Jace had walked in.
He stood directly behind her—silent, unmoving—his presence filling the space like a pressure drop before a storm. For a moment, my response stalled.
And then—
Bam!
He dropped his bag onto the desk with a sharp, careless thud.
My classmate flinched violently and spun around.
Her reaction was immediate—the color drained from her face.
Jace didn't touch her. He didn't raise his voice.
He just stared.
And somehow, that was worse.
If looks could kill, he would have been the definition.
"You already have a partner," he said calmly. "Why are you asking someone else for help?"
"I—I'm leaving! Sorry!" she stammered.
She didn't wait for a response. She practically ran, disappearing into the rows of desks as if fleeing for her life.
Jace sighed, shaking his head slowly, before dropping into his seat like it belonged to him alone. He leaned back, draping one arm over the backrest, relaxed and territorial.
"You should let them figure it out themselves," he said, irritation threading through his voice, even as his expression stayed calm. "Don't help them." Then, like it was an afterthought, he added, "If they were going to rely on you anyway, they should've just picked you as their partner."
I nodded once.
I didn't argue. I didn't defend myself.
Because... he wasn't entirely wrong.
He faced forward for a moment before glancing sideways at me. I flinched—barely, just enough to notice it myself, just enough to feel quietly embarrassed.
"Morning," he said, his voice cool and clipped.
It was unexpected, really. He scolded me before he greeted me. Even so, for someone as openly hostile as him, the gesture felt intentional.
"Good morning," I replied.
His eyes drifted to my laptop screen.
"You already started the project," he said. "I haven't. I drank last night. Got too wasted to even think."
"It's okay," I said evenly. "There's no rush. Just make sure you submit your part within the timeframe I gave so we don't run into problems."
He didn't answer right away.
He just stared at me—like he was measuring angles, calculating possibilities, imagining creative ways to end me.
Then, after a few seconds—
"Okay, boss!" he said brightly, flashing a grin.
I froze.
I didn't know how to react to that.
Was he being sincere?
Was it sarcasm wrapped in a smile?
Or was it a sugar-coated way of saying "don't tell me what to do" by naming me... 'Boss'?
I couldn't tell if it was submission or mockery—and somehow, that unsettled me more than outright hostility.
My phone buzzed inside my pocket.
Before reaching for it, I glanced at Jace discreetly. He was absorbed in his phone now, completely focused on a basketball game.
Good.
I slid my personal phone that's beside my laptop, deeper into my pocket and pulled out my work phone instead. Two phones would invite him questions. Questions led to curiosity.
And curiosity killed the cat.
Right now, I was that cat.
I angled the screen carefully, making it look like casual scrolling. The privacy screen protector ensured that only someone directly in front of the phone could see anything—and I knew Jace wouldn't lean in close.
Why would he?
We weren't friends.
We weren't close.
The message wasn't from a new client.
It was Melody again.
Melody:
Hi, mister lifesaver!!! I just wanted to ask—do you also do tutoring? I'm having a hard time understanding our Network Security unit. T.T
Sent: 8:08 a.m.
I typed my reply carefully.
Me:
I'm sorry, but I don't do tutoring because I want to keep my identity anonymous. It would be difficult for me to do that. However, if you need help with lecture topics you don't fully understand, I do have some notes I can send you. I added comments explaining certain terms, so it should be easier to follow. You don't need to pay for those. I'll give them to you for free.
Sent: 8:09 a.m.
Her response came instantly. I wondered if she had even finished reading.
Melody:
YES!!! Please! Thank you!!!
Sorry for bothering you again.
You can send them to my email: [email protected].
I already asked my classmates, but they're struggling too, so I had to ask you—and I'm really glad I did!
I'm so happy!!!
I wish I could meet you in person to thank you... but I know you wouldn't. Hehe!
Sent: 8:09 a.m.
I hesitated, then replied.
Me:
I'm just trying to protect my identity.
If professors find out, I could get expelled.
Sent: 8:09 a.m.
Another message followed.
Melody:
I understand.
But I still wish I could see you in person at least once.
Even just your face would be enough.
Sent: 8:09 a.m.
I didn't comment on that.
Me:
I'll send the files now. Let
me know once you receive them.
Sent: 8:09 a.m.
A moment later, I uploaded the files and sent them.
Melody confirmed receipt almost immediately.
That should have been the end of it.
I locked my phone and slid it back into my pocket—only then noticing the time.
It was already past eight.
Too far past eight.
I lifted my gaze toward the front of the classroom.
The professor's table was still empty.
No laptop.
No bag.
No sign of movement.
"Is the professor not here yet?" I muttered.
"She's not coming."
Jace's voice cut in—casual, almost bored—like he was commenting on the weather.
I turned to him. He was leaned back in his chair, one arm slung lazily over the side, phone balanced in his hand. His eyes never left the screen as his fingers moved with practiced ease, tapping, swiping, winning. He looked completely unbothered by the growing noise in the room, by the empty space at the front where our professor should have been standing.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"I ran into her outside the faculty room before coming here," he said. "She told me to let the class know she wouldn't be attending today."
I blinked. "You're... sure?" I paused. "Did you tell everyone?"
"No."
My brows knit together. "Why not?"
He shrugged, still playing. "Didn't feel like it."
I sighed and rubbed my temple, already feeling a headache bloom behind my eyes.
"So we're just... waiting for nothing." I asked, "You're not leaving yet?"
That made him stop.
Not fully—just enough to notice.
For half a second, his fingers froze mid-air. He glanced at me, slow and deliberate, then looked back down at his phone like nothing had happened.
"You want me to leave so bad?" he asked.
"No," I said quickly. Too quickly. "That's not what I meant."
"Hm."
He tilted his phone and started another round, the faint game sounds clicking softly between us.
"She still expects us to work on the project," he said. "With or without her."
"Oh," I murmured.
"And," he added, his tone lazy, almost amused, "I was waiting for you to boss me around."
My fingers curled slightly around the edge of my laptop.
"I—"
But he didn't give me the chance to finish.
"Looks like you're busy with something else though," he said. "So I entertained myself."
That was when he finally looked at me.
Not a glance. Not a passing flick of attention.
He looked—slow, steady, unapologetic.
His eyes lifted from the screen and locked onto mine, heavy-lidded and unreadable, paired with that deadpan expression that gave nothing away. I forgot how to speak. The classroom noise faded into a dull hum, like it had been pushed underwater.
For a moment, it felt like I was the one being evaluated.
"Do you want to do this project," he asked, "or did you want to do something else?"
I swallowed.
He was trying to intimidate me. I'm sure of it. The unsettling part was how effortlessly he did it—no raised voice, no sharp words, no obvious aggression. Just pressure. Just pure presence.
But I was the leader.
I forced myself to straighten, grounding my hands on the desk, anchoring myself to the role I had already claimed.
"Let's start with our project," I answered.
"Good," he said. "Don't get distracted."
Then—without breaking eye contact—
"I just want you to focus on me."
End of Chapter 5