CHAPTER 2: A DAY IN DISARRAY

I glanced toward the corner of the bathroom. A mountain of laundry lay there, neglected and forgotten. Perhaps the suffocating pressure had finally pushed the simple task of washing clothes out of my mind. My apartment was a complete disaster now, looking like a shipwreck.

"Ugh... What am I supposed to wear?"

I slumped onto the floor in utter despair. The only pair of pants I owned were the shorts I was currently wearing.

"Should I just cancel the session? But... what if I fail again?"

I ruffled my hair, the frustration boiling over. "Aargghh... I can't let that happen. Papa will literally kill me if I don't graduate this year."

Suddenly, a spark of an idea hit me. I scrambled up and rifled through what was left in my wardrobe. My eyes lit up when I found a cropped faux-leather jacket that reached just above my navel. I threw it on and quickly tied a flannel shirt around my waist. At the very least, it provided some cover for my thighs.

After all, I had no intention of becoming a target for that cruel professor’s whims.

I haphazardly smoothed my waist-length wavy hair with my fingers and twisted it into a bun. I snapped my laptop shut, shoved it into my bag, and clipped my freshly printed manuscript into a folder.

Fortunately, my apartment wasn't far from campus—only a ten-minute motorbike ride away.

I ran with every ounce of strength I had to reach Mr. Jefri’s office. But just as I arrived, he was already stepping out.

"Sir... Sir. I am so sorry I’m late," I panted, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

Mr. Jefri remained silent, his gaze sweeping over my disheveled appearance from head to toe. I pressed my thighs together and tugged at the tied shirt, trying to make it hang a little lower.

"You’re late. If you’re willing, the consultation will be held at my house tonight," he said flatly, brushing past me without a second glance.

I scrambled to catch up, cutting in front of him to block his path.

"Sir... Please, I need your help. Just for a moment. Tonight, I..."

My words trailed off. I searched frantically for an excuse to avoid a session at his residence. It was madness. Who holds a thesis consultation at a professor’s house at night? What if he crossed the line? There were already so many whispers about Mr. Jefri—rumors that he enjoyed taking advantage of female students for his own satisfaction.

"Tonight, you what?" Mr. Jefri asked. His tone was cold, piercing.

"I..." I bit my lip, twisting my fingers together. "I have a date, Sir," I answered softly, forced a hollow, nervous laugh.

Mr. Jefri adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. "So, what you’re saying is... a date is more important than your degree?"

"N-no, Sir. That’s not what I meant."

He took a step forward. The distance between us vanished until only inches remained. He stared at me like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Go ahead then, enjoy your date. But don't expect to graduate this year."

The threat was ice-cold. He walked away with a casual, unbothered stride.

Panik seized me. I spun around and chased after his long steps.

"What time tonight, Sir?" I finally asked, trailing behind him as he continued to walk.

"Eight o'clock," he replied curtly, his expression remaining frigid as he disappeared.

I immediately broke into an imaginary shadow-boxing routine, punching and kicking his face into a pulp—though I was only striking the air where he had been. I was fuming. After all that running, he just brushed me off like that.

"Cruel, heartless man!" I grumbled.

My face probably looked like a sumo wrestler ready to charge. Even my hair bun completed the look. I didn't care; today was officially the worst. If I had known it would be like this, I would have stayed home and continued writing my novel instead.

Bzzzt!

The vibration of my phone in my pocket returned. With a face still dark with resentment, I answered the call without even checking the ID.

"Hello!" I snapped.

"Whoa... what's wrong with you? Answering the phone with that attitude!"

I frowned and glanced at the screen; it was Dita. My one and only true friend who hadn't abandoned me. The others? Don't ask. Dita was all I had.

"Dit, it’s you? Hehehe... Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"What’s up with you? Are you PMS-ing?"

"No! I’m just pissed. I ran all the way to campus only to be ditched by your 'dream professor'."

"Hahaha... You mean Mr. Jefri?" Dita sounded far too delighted. It seemed she was ready to throw a party over my suffering.

"You sound way too happy about this, Dit."

"I am happy to see you being tortured by him. Besides... you hate that handsome man so much. Maybe it’s karma?"

"Forget it. I’m miserable. Comfort me..."

"Just come over here. I'm chilling at a cafe in Sadewa Mall. It's close to campus, right?"

"Fine, I'll be there. Uh... you're alone, right?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Erika... why are you so afraid of meeting people?"

"Heh... I just don't feel like talking to strangers. Fine, send me your location."

"Sure."

After hanging up, Dita sent the name of the cafe. I managed a small smile and shoved the phone back into my pocket.

But I had only taken a few steps down the campus stairs when it rang again. Idiotically, I answered it immediately while walking, without checking the caller.

"Hi, Dit. I got the location. I’m on my way."

"Where do you think you're going? Going off to slack off again?!"

The voice was high and heavy. The one voice I had spent my entire life trying to avoid. A voice that sounded like an ultimatum.

I pulled the phone away to look at the screen. My eyes went wider than before. Shock, tremors, and anxiety crashed into me all at once.

"Oh, Papa... how are you, Pa?" I answered, my demeanor shifting instantly into something soft and demure.

"Don't play coy with me! What is the progress on your thesis?!"

Of course. He didn't call because he missed his beautiful only daughter. He called to collect on a promise.

"It’s under control, Pa."

"Under control how? Have you been approved? Are you ready for your defense?"

"Ha... Hahaha." I gave a hollow laugh, lost for words. "It still needs some revisions, Pa."

"Revisions again?!"

I pulled the phone away from my ear. If I hadn't, my eardrums would have shattered from his shout.

"Yes—the thesis has to be perfect, Pa."

"How many times have you revised it, Erika? This is the fifth! You aren't focusing, are you? What are you busy with? Busy with that imaginary world of yours?!"

I massaged my throbbing temples; even my grip on my bag faltered. My frustration had doubled.

"I’ve been working seriously, Pa. This time, the professor is just being cruel. My thesis is good, really..."

"Now you're blaming the professor? What about the years before? Was that the professor's fault too?"

My body felt weak, and tears began to prick at my eyes. I felt as though no one in my family was willing to support my true passions.

"No, Pa. That was my mistake," I answered hoarsely. Despite my best efforts, a tear escaped. I hung my head, trying to hide it from the junior students passing by in the hallway.

"I don't want to hear it. You must graduate this year. If you don't, I will marry you off!"

"What?"

Tut... Tut...

"Pa! Hello..."