The sun was just beginning to stretch across the Starlight University campus when Amara stepped out of the cab, a duffel bag slung across one shoulder and a suitcase dragging behind her. Her heart thudded with excitement, nerves, and that strange dizziness that came from stepping into a brand-new chapter of life.
"Can you believe this?" Nia, her best friend since high school, asked, practically bouncing on her heels. "We're officially university students."
Amara smiled, still taking in the towering buildings, the leafy walkways, and the gentle hum of life that vibrated in the air. "I can't believe they even gave us the same room."
"Destiny," Nia declared dramatically, tossing her curls over her shoulder. "Or maybe it's because I bribed the lady at the housing desk with cookies."
Amara laughed, bumping her friend with her shoulder as they made their way toward the hostel entrance.
Their room was on the third floor of the East Wing—a simple but bright space with twin beds, two desks, and a window that looked out over a small garden. They unpacked quickly, chatting the whole time, pausing to squeal over matching fairy lights and poster ideas. When everything was mostly in place, Nia flopped on her bed.
"You excited for the fresher's meet tonight?"
Amara shrugged, smoothing out the folds on her blanket. "Kind of. I mean, it's going to be crowded, and I'm not exactly the most outgoing person."
"You'll be fine," Nia said. "Besides, there's food. And I heard someone say the performing arts team is putting on a show. Oh, and guess what?"
"What?"
"There's this senior guy everyone is obsessed with. Like literally campus royalty."
Amara raised an eyebrow. "You mean the 'heartthrob' every university has?"
"No, this one's different," Nia said with wide eyes. "His name's Kieran Hale. Third year. Architecture. Talented, smart, reserved. Doesn't speak much. And he's so good-looking it's criminal."
Amara snorted. "I'm sure he's just—"
"No, no. I'm serious. He's untouchable. Girls line up to talk to him, and he just nods and walks away like he doesn't even hear them."
"That's... intense."
"I know, right? And he's performing tonight. Some kind of solo guitar piece."
That caught Amara's attention. A guy who rejected everyone and played guitar? That was either deeply poetic or seriously pretentious. She wasn't sure which yet.
The fresher's meet was held in the main auditorium. Lights flickered over the stage as the room filled with eager new students. Amara stuck close to Nia, sipping her mango soda and pretending to look relaxed.
It was easy to feel invisible here. Everywhere she turned, someone looked more stylish, more confident, more camera-ready than she did. Amara had always been a little on the simpler side — plain tees, comfy jeans, and messy buns were her comfort zone.
"Look," Nia whispered, nudging her sharply. "He's here."
Amara followed her gaze, and that's when she saw him.
Kieran Hale.
He stood just beyond the crowd, near the side of the stage. Dressed in a simple black shirt and jeans, he wasn't flashy. He didn't need to be. There was something arresting about him—something in the way he held himself. Still, calm, like a sculpture carved out of silence.
And his face—sharp jawline, expressive brows, and dark eyes that could drown you if you looked too long. His hair fell just slightly over his forehead, messy but effortlessly styled.
He wasn't talking. Just standing there, listening to the host's announcements. But even without a single word, he radiated presence.
"Okay, I get it now," Amara murmured, not tearing her eyes away.
Nia beamed. "Right?"
Just then, a girl from the senior batch leaned close to him, whispering something with a practiced smile. Kieran tilted his head slightly, gave a small nod, and then turned his face away without another word. The girl looked mildly embarrassed, and Amara felt a strange twist in her chest. Not jealousy exactly—more like... inadequacy.
She wasn't sure why she cared. It wasn't like she wanted attention from someone like him. She wasn't even the kind of girl he'd notice.
Still, her fingers tightened around her cup as she watched a group of glamorous girls drift toward him like moths to a flame.
She looked down at her jeans, her scuffed sneakers, and her frizz-prone hair and shook the feeling away.
An hour later, the performance began. Students clapped and cheered as dance teams performed, seniors gave short welcome speeches, and a few musical acts got the crowd going.
When Kieran Hale took the stage, everything changed. He sat on a stool with a black acoustic guitar, no microphone, no introductions. Just him and the spotlight. And the moment his fingers touched the strings, the room fell completely silent.
It was haunting.
The melody was raw and beautiful, filled with emotion yet incredibly restrained. Amara had never seen someone play like that—so focused, so powerful without trying. It was like he was pouring something unspoken into the notes.
And his eyes...
They weren't even looking at the audience. They were closed, like the music was something he was feeling from the inside out.
When he finished, there was a pause—like everyone needed a second to breathe—then the auditorium erupted into applause.
Kieran gave a small nod, stood, and walked offstage.
"Tell me you're not a little bit in love with him now," Nia whispered.
Amara didn't answer. She was still staring at the stage.
Later that night, after the event, Amara offered to help return the snack trays to the student union kitchen. Nia had stayed back to chat with a few other girls, so Amara wandered off on her own, humming quietly to herself as she walked the dimly lit hallway near the back of the auditorium.
Just as she turned the corner, a figure appeared from the other side.
She bumped straight into him, trays and all.
The sound of clattering metal echoed down the corridor as paper cups and sandwich wrappers flew everywhere.
"Oh—sorry! I didn't see—" Amara bent quickly, embarrassed.
A familiar hand reached out at the same time.
Kieran Hale.
Their fingers brushed as he helped her collect the mess.
For a moment, their eyes met.
And Amara finally understood what Nia meant about his eyes.
They weren't just deep. They were unreadable. Quiet. Still. Like looking into something vast and ancient. And strangely... kind.
"Sorry," she repeated, a little breathless. "I wasn't looking."
Kieran didn't say anything. Just offered her the tray he'd picked up and gave a small nod.
Then, without a word, he turned and walked past her.
Amara stood there for a moment, stunned.
It was their first meeting. Accidental. Awkward. Silent.
But it wouldn't be the last.
And as she watched his back disappear down the hall, her heart thudded—just a little louder than before.