1. Lyric

Chapter one

Lyric

AS I SAT THERE LOOKING at the professor's desk at the front of the auditorium, where he was standing behind it and writing out today's lesson on the whiteboard, the air was filled with the aroma of mixed perfume. Slouching in my chair, my eyes wandered around the room, swiftly darting from each classmate below me. I always sat at the top of the row alone. My fear consumed me to the point where even sitting at the front of the class was terrifying. And I'm sure the other students thought I was completely insane because the dark circles beneath my amber eyes revealed that I hadn't slept peacefully in ages. The nightmares of that night haunted me like the plague.

But I couldn't hide from life forever, and I knew it. The fear I felt wasn't going to disappear on its own. With a deep breath, I lifted my head and looked around the slowly filling classroom. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, each worse than the last.

Shuffling feet caught my attention from the rambling in my head. A man sat beside me, glanced in my direction, and made eye contact despite my hood covering most of my face. His inky eyes squinted under his ball cap as if he was contemplating whether my choice to wear a hood in the class indicated insanity or was merely a result of the cold weather.

I shifted uncomfortably, unsettled by his demeanor. The man's extensive collection of tattoos caught my attention; they covered nearly every inch of his skin, including his neck. His keen gaze darted about the room without a thought of subtlety. A well-defined chest filled the V of his white t-shirt, and tattoos surrounded him. He never once smiled, instead peering at me with a gaze that set me on edge. My eyes moved up to his thick arms, encircled by more tattoos, and then to his hands poised over a piece of paper on the table.

What the hell was he even here for?

His career path seemed to be already mapped out, perhaps as an MMA fighter, personal trainer, or spy. But the question still remained: what would his role as a spy involve within a university setting?

I ignored the questions running through my mind, including why he chose to sit next to me when plenty of other desks were available in our small class.

As the class was about to end, I could feel his gaze on me again, but I avoided it. Although I tried my best to stay clear od male figures, even professors, after that night, the male species seemed drawn to me like a moth to a flame. But the situation only got worse once the entire campus saw the video, which put my rape out there for all to see. Despite my cries and pleas for help, I was the one branded as a whore, while those responsible for recording the video and committing the heinous act remained unaffected.

My watch faintly chimed at 11:30. I quickly stood up to leave, but Carl blocked my path. I froze, my heart pounding so hard that I was sure he could hear it. I tried to edge around him, but he blocked my way again, forcing me to turn and face him. I could feel his eyes burning into my soul as he looked at me, and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Carl, please move," I said softly with my head down and an anxious tone.

"Aw, why?" He asked, extending his hand to touch my chin. However, I quickly pulled away.

"Let me through!" I said it sharply.

The man beside me quickly glanced toward our scuffle, fixing his eyes on Carl with a mischievous glare. Carl noticed the man's reaction and leaned closer to his desk, almost coming face to face.

"Do you also want a taste of the whore?" Carl chuckled, causing my cheeks to burn with embarrassment under my hood.

The man's expression never changed, but the surrounding air shifted, becoming charged with electricity. Carl must have felt it, too, because he took a step back, a look of uncertainty on his face.

Without uttering a word, the strange man rose from his seat and approached Carl with an eerie silence. His head tilted slightly, as if he were studying him intently.

Carl backed away, but the man quickly grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. With a powerful tug, the man pulled Carl towards him, their faces now inches away.

The man leaned in and whispered something into Carl's ear. Whatever it was, it had an immediate effect on him. Carl's eyes widened, and he began to tremble. The man let go of Carl and then moved towards him as if he were going to punch him, which caused Carl to recoil backward, falling over the desk behind him.

The man stepped back, motioning for me to pass, and I quickly ran off toward the exit. Before leaving, I turned and saw Carl lying on the ground, trembling with fear. The man's expression remained unchanged. His eyes were fixed on Carl's face. Witnessing the strange power he seemed to have over Carl was terrifying.

Quickly, I shook away whatever I was feeling and darted out of the classroom.

As I walked down the hall, my thoughts were scattered like puzzle pieces on the floor. I had never been more grateful to leave a classroom in my life. For a moment there, I had forgotten all the other stuff plaguing me - about the video, the whispers, the looks of disgust. It was like a slight reprieve.

The next few days on campus, the torment subsided since the arrival of the mysterious man. Although he still occupied the seat beside me, he had yet to utter a single word to me, and I felt a bit grateful to him for it. As if he sensed my inner turmoil or, possibly, understood my pain.

When the class was dismissed, I made a beeline for the door. The guy beside me had already beat me to the exit before I could gather my things. But I had no intention of speaking to him. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to. Although I was grateful for what he had done, I found it difficult to believe in them - or anyone else, for that matter - after suffering an attack by men.

Walking down the deserted hallway, I tried to clear my mind and focus on the upcoming weekend. I needed a way to relax and forget my problems for a few days.

Suddenly, I heard heavy footsteps behind me. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest as I turned around to see a group of girls approaching me. They linked their arms with mine.

"Hey, Lyric." Kathleen smiled mischievously. Her sky-blue eyes locked on me as she casually brushed her blonde hair over her shoulder. "We've noticed that you have quite a reputation with the guys, and we see the new guy has taken a liking to you as well. But maybe you should leave him to me." She chuckled, her gaze shifting to the guy from class who walked ahead of us. "He's fine, isn't he?" She gazed admiringly at his backside before turning her attention back to me. "He's mine," she hissed.

My stomach churned at her words, but I kept a calm expression. I knew how this conversation would play out and was not interested in participating.

"I don't have any interest in him," I replied evenly, hoping they would take the hint and drop it.

Kathleen and her friends exchanged a knowing look, their eyes glinting with mischief. "Glad you understand, and don't look so serious. We are just having fun," she said, squeezing my arm playfully.

My patience was wearing thin. "I'm not interested in your 'fun'," I said sharply, pulling my arm away from hers. "Now, if you don't mind, I will go now."

I turned on my heel and strode away, ignoring their giggles and whispers.

Before turning the corner to walk outside, I couldn't help but look back down the hallway, where Kathleen and her friends were still hanging out. She noticed the new guy getting a drink from the vending machines and started to make her way towards him. She playfully tossed her hair while flashing him a sweet smile.

The irony was that he regarded her with an odd expression as if she were some disgusting ogre. She reached out to touch his bicep, but he instinctively pulled away.

I couldn't hold back my laughter. Kathleen, who has always been the most popular and desired person, faced rejection for the first time.

As I walked away with a smile, I couldn't help but feel a slight sense of satisfaction.