The late-summer sun hung low over Drake University, bathing its sprawling campus in warm gold. Freshmen poured through the gates with overstuffed suitcases, cardboard boxes, and backpacks slung over weary shoulders. Parents lingered with last-minute advice, volunteers in crimson shirts called out directions, and laughter drifted across the tree-lined walkways.
For most, it was the beginning of a new chapter.
For Corvin Kovač, it was the beginning of a carefully planned one.
He moved through the crowd at an unhurried pace, his attention fixed less on the people around him than on the campus itself. Stone buildings stood beside sleek glass laboratories, pathways branched into a network that connected the university grounds, and signposts pointed towards departments, residence halls, and lecture theatres. His eyes swept from one landmark to the next, quietly committing each to memory.
Useful information was rarely wasted.
At eighteen, Corvin had come to Drake University to study engineering. Ever since he was young, he had been fascinated by understanding how things worked. Machines, structures, electronics—if something could be taken apart and understood, it deserved to be.
The chatter surrounding him faded into little more than background noise.
His destination lay ahead.
The Dorm Assignment Office.
Inside, organised chaos reigned.
Freshmen queued before several reception desks while university staff worked through an endless line of names. Volunteers crossed the room carrying stacks of envelopes, answering questions from anxious students and directing parents towards the unloading zones outside.
Corvin joined the nearest queue without a word.
It moved steadily.
When the student ahead of him collected their key and stepped aside, a receptionist looked up with a welcoming smile.
"Next, please."
Corvin approached the desk.
"Name?"
"Corvin Kovač."
Her fingers danced across the keyboard before she nodded.
"There you are. Welcome to Drake University."
She slid a cream-coloured envelope across the counter.
Inside were his student identification card, a campus map, and a brass key attached to a polished wooden tag.
Favilla Hall — Room 402.
Corvin turned the key over once in his hand before slipping everything neatly into his backpack.
"Thank you."
He stepped away from the desk, unfolding the campus map as he walked.
"Next!"
"Aisha Mercer!"
The cheerful voice carried clearly across the room.
Corvin glanced up almost absent-mindedly.
The young woman approaching the desk couldn't have contrasted with him more.
She carried a large sports duffel over one shoulder as though it weighed nothing. Her stride was relaxed, confident, and energetic, the kind that came from years of training rather than conscious effort. There was an easy smile on her face, and she greeted the receptionist as if they already knew each other.
"You're assigned to Favilla Hall," the receptionist said, handing over an envelope.
Aisha opened it immediately.
"Room... 403."
A grin spread across her face.
"Nice."
After thanking the receptionist, she turned towards the exit.
Only then did she notice the quiet young man standing nearby, studying the campus map with complete concentration.
"You heading to Favilla Hall too?" she asked.
Corvin looked up.
"Yes."
She lifted her key.
"Looks like we got the same dorm."
He glanced at the wooden tag attached to her key before comparing it with his own.
"My room is 402."
Aisha looked again.
"And mine's 403."
She laughed.
"Guess we're neighbours."
"It appears so."
There wasn't much else to say.
Together, they left the administration building and joined the steady flow of students moving deeper into campus.
For several minutes they walked in comfortable silence.
Towering oaks shaded the pathways, their leaves rustling softly in the afternoon breeze. Students crossed the lawns carrying guitars, mini fridges, and impossible stacks of boxes while golf carts buzzed between residence halls delivering luggage.
Somewhere nearby, music drifted from a student welcome event.
Aisha took everything in with open curiosity.
"This place is bigger than I expected."
Corvin glanced towards the engineering buildings rising in the distance.
"It covers just over one hundred and sixty acres."
She blinked.
"You actually read the brochure?"
"Yes."
She laughed.
"Of course you did."
The path curved away from the busier part of campus towards a quieter corner lined with older buildings.
Then they saw it.
Favilla Hall.
The residence stood apart from everything around it.
Its original structure was built from weathered grey stone, its ivy-covered walls and tall arched windows giving it the appearance of an old manor house. Yet woven into that historic architecture were unmistakably modern additions—glass corridors connecting the wings, steel balconies overlooking landscaped gardens, and subtle lighting fixtures built seamlessly into the stonework.
Neither style overpowered the other.
Instead, they complemented each other.
"It actually looks pretty cool," Aisha admitted.
Corvin studied the building for another moment.
"The renovation respected the original architecture."
She smiled sideways at him.
"You really do notice everything."
"I try."
The automatic doors slid open as students carried boxes inside.
Beyond them, polished wooden floors reflected warm lighting while exposed stone walls preserved the building's age.
The scent of fresh varnish mixed faintly with old timber, giving the hall an atmosphere that was both historic and newly restored.
A broad staircase rose through the centre of the lobby.
Aisha glanced around.
"No lift?"
A nearby resident assistant overheard her.
"There is one," he said with a smile, "but everyone's using it today. The stairs are much quicker."
"Stairs it is."
She adjusted the strap of her duffel bag.
Corvin shifted his suitcase into a more comfortable grip before following her towards the staircase.
Their footsteps echoed softly against the stone walls as they began the climb to the second floor, unaware that this ordinary afternoon marked the beginning of friendships—and events—that would change all of their lives.
The fourth floor was noticeably quieter than the lobby below. The bustle of arriving freshmen had faded into little more than a distant murmur, replaced by the occasional scrape of luggage and the soft echo of footsteps along the corridor.
Warm afternoon sunlight spilled through the tall windows, illuminating rows of oak doors marked with polished brass numbers.
Corvin stepped onto the landing and instinctively surveyed the hallway.
401... 402... 403...
"So this is home," Aisha said, adjusting the strap of her duffel bag.
Before either of them reached their doors, footsteps approached from the opposite end of the corridor.
Another freshman rounded the corner carrying a single travel bag. He was a little taller than both of them, with neatly styled chestnut-brown hair and an easy smile that immediately put people at ease.
There was nothing flashy about him, yet he carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone accustomed to meeting new people.
Seeing them, he slowed to a stop.
"Looks like we're neighbours."
He set his bag down and offered a hand.
"Marco Montelli. Psychology."
Corvin shook it first.
"Corvin Kovač. Engineering."
"Aisha Mercer," she said, accepting the handshake next. "Sports Science."
Marco smiled warmly.
"Looks like we'll be seeing plenty of each other."
Aisha studied him for a moment, her brow gradually knitting together.
"Haven't we...?"
Marco tilted his head.
"Have we met before?"
She continued staring until recognition suddenly flashed across her face.
"Oh!"
She pointed at him.
"Now I remember. You're that Marco Montelli!"
A resigned smile crossed Marco's face.
"I suppose that depends on what you've heard."
"The Montelli family," Aisha said. "From Italy."
He nodded.
"My family."
"They own the biggest liquor chain in Italy," she explained to Corvin, "and they also run three legal casinos."
"That's right."
Aisha folded her arms dramatically.
"Well, remind me never to get on your bad side."
Marco laughed.
"I promise we're much less intimidating than our reputation."
"That's exactly what someone from a mafia family would say."
The three shared a laugh, even Corvin allowing the faintest smile.
As the conversation drifted on, Corvin found his attention settling on Marco again.
His handshake had been confident without becoming dominant. His posture remained relaxed, his smile natural, his speech measured. Nothing about him felt rehearsed, yet every response landed effortlessly.
He was either exceptionally good with people... or he'd spent years learning how to be.
Across from him, Marco reached a similar conclusion.
Corvin's expressions were restrained, his movements economical, and every answer contained only the information required—nothing more. His eyes rarely wandered aimlessly. They observed.
For a brief moment, their gazes met.
Neither looked away.
Neither needed to.
The understanding was immediate.
He's analysing me.
The thought occurred to both of them almost simultaneously.
Neither acknowledged it.
Instead, Marco continued the conversation as though nothing had happened.
"So," he asked casually, "where are you both from?"
"Croatia," Corvin replied.
"The U.S.," Aisha said.
"Italy," Marco answered with a smile. "Though I suppose that part wasn't much of a mystery."
The conversation continued easily enough, but beneath the friendly exchange each quietly refined the impression they'd formed of the other.
Corvin noticed how carefully Marco chose his words.
Marco noticed how carefully Corvin chose what not to say.
Neither considered it suspicious.
It was simply instinct.
Aisha watched them from the side, her eyes moving between the two.
Nothing about the conversation was unfriendly. They smiled, laughed, and spoke politely enough.
Yet there was something almost invisible beneath the surface.
She finally broke the silence.
"Is it just me," she asked, looking between them, "or is there some weird tension here?"
Marco blinked before chuckling.
"Tension?"
"I don't know," Aisha admitted with a shrug. "Maybe I'm imagining it."
Corvin gave a small shake of his head.
"I don't believe so."
"If you say so."
Her smile suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.
Marco glanced further down the corridor and gestured over his shoulder.
"My room's actually over there."
Corvin followed the gesture to the brass plaque mounted beside another door.
406.
"So we're all neighbours," Aisha said.
"Looks that way," Marco replied.
"Convenient."
"I'd say so."
After exchanging a few parting words, Marco picked up his bag.
"I should get unpacked."
"Same here," Aisha replied.
Corvin unlocked Room 402 while Aisha disappeared into 403.
The corridor fell quiet once more.
Stepping inside, Corvin closed the door behind him and paused.
Before unpacking, he took a slow look around the room, noting the wardrobe, desk, shelving, window, bathroom, electrical outlets, and available floor space.
Within moments, he'd built a mental layout of the room and was already considering how best to arrange it.
Compact, efficient, and thoughtfully designed.
His eyes finally settled on the bed.
A single bed.
He frowned.
Then looked around the room once more.
A single wardrobe, desk, chair.
The realisation settled in.
"...A single room."
A quiet sigh escaped his lips.
"That's... fortunate."
For the first time all morning, genuine relief crossed his face.
Ever since receiving his room assignment, one question had lingered in the back of his mind.
How was he supposed to explain his late-night engineering projects to a roommate?
Corvin's experiments rarely remained quiet for long.
Sometimes there were loud mechanical vibrations.
Sometimes power tools.
Occasionally small electrical discharges.
And, admittedly...
The odd explosion.
Nothing dangerous.
Usually.
Trying to convince a stranger that sparks flying across a dorm room at two in the morning were perfectly normal would have been... difficult.
A room to himself eliminated the problem entirely.
"No complaints," he murmured.
Setting his suitcase beside the desk, he began unpacking.
Corvin unpacked with the same methodical precision he approached everything else.
Clothes went into the wardrobe first, neatly folded and arranged by type. His textbooks filled the shelves above the desk, grouped by subject rather than size—engineering, physics, mathematics, programming, and electronics. Within minutes, every book had found its place.
The second suitcase was considerably more unusual.
Inside were carefully organised plastic containers filled with screws, bolts, gears, copper wire, electronic components, and neatly labelled circuit boards. A compact soldering station, a digital multimeter, precision screwdrivers, callipers, and a portable oscilloscope followed.
To most people it would have looked less like luggage and more like the contents of a small workshop.
To Corvin, it was simply the minimum he considered necessary.
He arranged each tool where he could reach it without thinking, mentally mapping their positions as he worked. By the time he finished, the room no longer felt unfamiliar. It had become functional.
Satisfied, he settled into the desk chair and looked out of the window.
The afternoon sun had begun its slow descent, casting long shadows across the campus lawns.
Groups of students wandered between buildings, some carrying the last of their belongings while others had already gathered beneath the trees, laughing as though they had known each other for years instead of hours.
Corvin found the contrast interesting.
Human beings formed connections remarkably quickly.
Corvin took a deep breath. "Shall I get started on.....?"
"Stop!"
A sudden shout interrupted his focus.
Corvin looked up.
A second later, another voice followed.
"Leave me alone."
He frowned.
The voices were coming from outside.
Standing, he moved towards the door and opened it.
The corridor was empty.
The voices were coming from further down the hallway, near the stairwell.
Curious, Corvin walked towards the sound.
As he approached, he saw a young woman standing near the wall. She had long blonde hair and remarkably calm blue eyes despite the situation.
Standing in front of her was another freshman who was clearly refusing to take the hint.
"Come on," the student said. "I'm just trying to get to know you."
"And I've already told you I'm not interested," the young woman replied evenly. "Please leave me alone."
The student stepped a little closer.
"You don't have to be so difficult."
Corvin slowed his pace, quietly assessing the situation.
Before he could decide whether to intervene, another door opened behind him.
Aisha stepped into the corridor.
"What happened?"
Her gaze followed Corvin's towards the stairwell.
She took one look at the scene.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
The student turned.
"Mind your own business."
Aisha walked forward without hesitation until she stood beside the blonde girl.
"She already told you to leave."
The student scoffed.
"Or what?"
Without a word, Aisha's fist shot forward.
It stopped less than an inch from the student's face.
The sudden movement made him flinch so violently that he stumbled backwards, his eyes widening in shock.
For a brief second, neither of them moved.
Aisha slowly lowered her hand.
"The next one won't stop."
The student's confidence evaporated.
He looked from Aisha to Corvin—who remained standing a few metres away, silently watching—and decided the situation wasn't worth pursuing.
"...Whatever."
Muttering under his breath, he turned and hurried down the stairs.
Silence settled over the corridor once more.
The blonde girl let out a small sigh before smiling at Aisha.
"Thank you."
Aisha shrugged.
"He wasn't getting the message."
Then the young woman turned towards both of them and extended her hand.
"I'm Astrid Clairmont."
"Aisha Mercer," Aisha replied, shaking her hand.
"Corvin Kovač."
"It's nice to meet you both," Astrid said warmly. "I'm in Room 405."
"So we're neighbours," Aisha said.
Astrid nodded.
"Actually, that's one of the reasons I came looking for everyone."
She gestured towards the end of the corridor.
"A few of us are having a small mixer in Room 408 tonight. Just something informal so everyone on the floor can meet each other before classes begin."
She looked between them with an inviting smile.
"I'd love it if you both came."
Corvin considered the invitation for a few seconds before nodding.
"I'll be there."
Aisha smiled.
"Count me in."
"Wonderful," Astrid said. "We'll be starting in about fifteen minutes."
With another warm smile, she waved goodbye and headed back down the corridor, leaving Corvin and Aisha watching her go before returning to their own rooms to get ready.
Corvin closed the door and glanced around the room one last time.
Everything was exactly where it should be.
After washing up, he changed into a clean black shirt and a pair of dark jeans.
Comfortable enough for an informal gathering, but tidy enough to make a respectable first impression.
He locked the door behind him and stepped into the corridor.
Almost simultaneously, the door to Room 203 opened.
Aisha emerged, turning to lock her own room before noticing him.
"Perfect timing," she said with a smile.
Corvin's eyes lingered for the briefest moment.
She was wearing a simple black dress paired with white heels. It wasn't extravagant, but it was a noticeable departure from the athletic clothes she'd worn throughout the day.
Interesting.
From everything he'd observed so far, Aisha seemed to favour practicality above appearance.
The choice didn't fit the impression he had formed.
The observation lasted no more than a heartbeat.
"Good evening," he said.
"Oh, hey, neighbour."
She caught the brief flicker of surprise on his face and folded her arms.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You definitely thought something."
"I was simply surprised."
"By the dress?"
Corvin nodded.
"I expected you to choose something more practical."
Aisha looked down at herself before laughing.
"I usually do. But first impressions matter."
"I suppose they do."
She grinned.
"Don't worry. You'll probably never see me dressed like this again."
Together, they made their way towards Room 408.
It was exactly as Corvin had expected.
Being positioned on the corner of Favilla Hall, it was noticeably larger than the other rooms on the floor.
Two tall windows overlooked different sides of the campus, filling the room with the warm glow of the setting sun. The furniture had been rearranged to create an open space where students could gather comfortably, while bowls of crisps and biscuits sat on a table against one wall.
Corvin and Aisha stepped inside together.
Several students had already arrived, talking in small groups.
Near one of the windows stood Marco and Astrid, deep in conversation with three other freshmen.
Marco noticed them almost immediately.
"There you are," he called with his usual easy smile. "Come over."
Astrid greeted them with a warm wave.
"I'm glad you both made it."
"We said we would," Aisha replied.
Marco turned slightly towards the three students beside him.
"Perfect timing. I was just about to introduce you—"
The door burst open.
"Emergency delivery!"
Everyone instinctively looked towards the entrance.
A young woman stumbled inside, somehow balancing two large bags filled with bottles and snacks while nudging the door shut with her foot.
"I regret absolutely nothing," she declared dramatically.
One of the plastic bags slipped.
"Oh, no you don't!"
She caught it against her hip at the last second before flashing a triumphant grin at the room.
"Victory!"
Aisha couldn't help laughing.
The newcomer finally noticed that every eye in the room was on her.
She blinked once.
"...Right."
She set the bags down on the nearest table, dusted off her hands as though she'd just completed a heroic quest, and climbed onto a chair.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and fellow victims of higher education!"
Corvin raised an eyebrow.
The room fell silent.
The girl placed a hand over her heart with theatrical sincerity.
"My name is Priya Satsangi."
She swept into an exaggerated bow.
"Proud resident of Room 408, acting and theatre student, supplier of emergency refreshments..."
She gestured proudly towards the bags.
"...and, judging by the current state of this room, the only person willing to save everyone from dying of thirst."
A ripple of laughter spread through the room.
Priya beamed.
"Excellent. You're laughing. That means you're my kind of people."
She hopped off the chair with surprising grace.
"I have only three rules."
She held up one finger.
"First, eat the snacks."
A second finger.
"Second, drink something before someone else steals your favourite flavour."
A third finger.
"And third..." She looked around the room with an infectious grin.
"...if we're all going to survive living on the same floor, we might as well become friends."
She spread her arms wide as though welcoming the entire room into a grand performance.
"So let's make this the least awkward first day in university history!"
The room erupted into applause, laughter, and scattered cheers.
Marco chuckled, shaking his head.
"I was wondering where our host had disappeared to."
"I had a mission," Priya replied with absolute seriousness.
She picked up one of the bottles and held it aloft.
"And every great mission requires supplies."
Aisha leaned slightly towards Corvin.
"I like her."
Corvin watched Priya effortlessly move from one conversation to the next, introducing herself as though she'd known everyone for years.
"...She's certainly memorable."
Marco smiled knowingly.
"I had a feeling she'd make an entrance."
He wasn't wrong.