Male POV Campus 단편 소설 & 소설

On the day we were supposed to leave for our graduation trip to the Cloudspire Plateau, my girlfriend dropped off the face of the earth. While I waited at Bellwarren International Airport, my roommate sent me a strangely loaded message. "Elliot, don't panic. There's a big surprise coming." I felt relieved. I assumed Naomi was running late because she was getting dressed up. She'd always promised that the day we graduated, she'd put on a wedding gown and marry me. Then our class representative dropped a cash giveaway into the group chat. @Everyone: "Thanks to every student and faculty member here to witness Naomi Keller and Derek Vaughn's engagement! Three years together, and they finally made it official!" It was cleaned out in seconds. One classmate after another posted congratulations. Then somebody finally put it together and wrote, "Holy hell, Owen. Did you forget to take Elliot out of this group?" The chat went dead silent. A second later, all of them started tagging me. "Elliot, don't come down here and make a scene. They've been together in secret for three years. It wasn't easy getting to this day." "You're so controlling that Derek couldn't show his face for three years. He's been through enough." Even our faculty adviser piled on. "Do it as a favor to me. You're a man, so be the bigger person. Don't ruin their night. Let them keep some dignity." Their messages closed in around me until I couldn't breathe, let alone ask a single question. The promise that was supposed to carry us from school uniforms to a wedding gown wasn't the only lie. Every part of those four years had been one.

I suddenly receive a message from my girlfriend, Sophia Rothwood, half an hour before my last test for the SAT. "I'm waiting for you in Classroom 901." I assume that she wants to give me a small surprise since I'm about to finish my SAT. Instead, I see her throw my ID and admission ticket into a brazier the moment I enter the classroom. I rush toward her, throwing all caution to the wind as I try to scoop the remains of my ID and admission ticket out of the fire. "Why did you do that?" I demand. Sophia holds me back. Her voice is calm when she says, "No particular reason. It's just that your results are always better than Louis'. I'm getting a bit tired of coaxing him. I intentionally let you watch this happen so that you understand what's going on and miss the test of your own accord." My ID and admission ticket have burned to ashes by the time she's done speaking. Sophia pauses for a moment as she takes in my stunned expression. "Did you know that the globally-renowned enterprise, Grant Group, has already sent someone to contact me? They plan to give me a million dollars in funding every year and provide specialized training for me. "I'll become Grant Group's youngest female executive within five years. Do you still think that you'll be a good match for me at that point? Louis is different. He's the son of a prestigious family. He's the better candidate to stay by my side during my time in university. "Stop with your delusions. Let's end our relationship now." I let out an indignant scoff, turn around, and leave. Sophia has no idea that Grant Group is my family's business. The million-dollar annual funding and specialized training she speaks of are part of a promise that I made with Dad before SAT. The condition is that I have to achieve first place for the exams. However, getting first place isn't important anymore. What matters is that Sophia's future has turned completely dark.

Cosmo Finch, the class president, announces in the group chat that the graduation dinner is being held at 6:00 pm. I arrive at the restaurant ten minutes early and wait outside the private dining room, only for him to stop me and shove a payment QR code in my face. "You're the last one in the class to arrive. Now, transfer me 300 dollars if you want to get in!" I'm baffled. "Didn't you tell us it starts at 6:00 pm? It's only 5:50 pm. How am I late?" Cosmo rolls his eyes and sneers, "Everyone else arrived an hour early to toast our advisor. You're the only one who shows up on the dot. Do you have no sense of team spirit? If you don't want to pay your share, leave!" Not wanting to make a scene at our last college get-together, I transfer the money with a cold expression and push open the door to the private dining room. However, the moment I step inside, my classmates are already putting on their coats and getting ready to leave. I take in all the sparkling-clean plates on the table, not quite processing what I'm seeing. Cosmo calls out from behind, "Everyone, grab your belongings. It's time to hit the speakeasy bar! Kieran, since you showed up last, the rest of the bill is on you!"

The entire school thought I was the school belle Wanda Stewart's biggest simp. I would send her breakfast during her morning run. I would offer her a towel and water during her matches. I would buy her pancakes from three streets away in the bitter cold just because she said she was hungry in the middle of the night. The boys in school who liked her could form a line from the mathematics department to the field. The look in their eyes changed from disdain to hatred. "He hasn't managed to pursue her even after all that simping. He really can take things in his stride." "Wanda is just good-natured. That's why she hasn't called the police." When the school hunk, Connor Graham, decided to publicly confess to Wanda, I became his greatest eyesore. While Wanda was out of school for a match, Connor came to me with his gang from the student council, kicking away the breakfast I bought for myself. Hot milk spilled all over me. He arched a brow and said with zero sincerity in his voice, "I'm sorry. I thought it was yet another bunch of trash you prepared for Wanda." With that, he pulled his phone out and flashed a remark that Wanda had made about me on the screen in the classroom. [A pain in the neck.] The entire class burst out laughing. Connor looked at me, clearly pleased. "See that? She finds you annoying. A man like you, stalking a girl all day, washing her clothes and sending her food... Don't you feel so cheap doing that?" Horace Jones, who stood behind him, chuckled. Connor smacked a letter of guarantee on my chest. [I willingly give up pursuing Wanda Stewart and will never send her food or water, follow her around, or pester her again.] "You can choose not to sign it." He waved his phone, a threatening smile on his face. "I'll just post a photo of you stealing Wanda's undergarment on the school's social media page." I looked at the photo of the white tank top I was keeping on the balcony of my own house and fell into deep thought. Wait. Since when did helping my sister with her laundry count as stealing?

After returning to school following a few days of absence, I can clearly sense a shift in how my classmates look at me. Even my former best friend, Jake Turner, has grown cold and distant. During a mock exam, when I ask to borrow a pen from him, he raises his hand and declares, "Ms. Stafford! I want to report Darrell Goodwin for cheating!" I'm given a major disciplinary demerit as a result. When I demand to know why he did it, he shoots me a look of utter contempt and says, "The SATs are just around the corner, and here you are, taking time off to sell your body for favors. My father is the vice principal of this school, and even I wouldn't stoop as low as you." Completely bewildered, I watch as he tosses a photograph at me. It's a picture of me getting into a luxury car on the day I took leave. Suddenly, everyone begins mocking me, claiming that I'm resorting to any means necessary just to take a shortcut and even become someone's kept man while my parents work themselves to the bone, running a farm to support my education. I try to explain that the person in the car is my own mother, but no one believes me. "You mean your sugar mommy? Do your parents even know you're being kept by a woman?" The rumors spiral out of control, and the principal, Mr. Matthew Snyder, even demands that my parents come to withdraw me from school. But the moment my entire family arrives, Mr. Snyder panics.

On the day the SAT scores were released, I clutched my phone and waited anxiously for forty minutes. “I got a 1550! Oh, Bree got a 1540! We’re both going to Preston Medical University!” my twin brother Michael Ashby shouted. I was about to say I could go too, but my girlfriend, Brielle Willow, had already grabbed Michael’s hand and dashed out the door. Brielle only remembered me during the celebration. “Oh, Fin, Preston Community College is right next to the medical school. Why don’t you just apply to their nursing program? That way, the three of us could still hang out together.” Michael chuckled and lightly patted my head. “Male nurses are in demand. Later on, when goofball Bree and I are doctors, you can assist us as our nurse. It’s the perfect combo!” They complemented each other perfectly like two halves of a whole. I did not belong there. For years, I had been running myself into the ground trying to keep up. They were always miles ahead, and I could only watch from behind. For once, I chose not to chase after them any longer.

On the first night of our graduation trip, Richard Clark, the class representative, suggests that we find our match via room numbers. "Let your luck decide your fate! You'll get to stay in the same room with your partner regardless of gender! How exciting is this?" Throughout my four-year college life, I've been in an underground relationship with Faye Lister for three years. No one knows about our relationship at all. I dig out a ball from the box and wait for my turn to get matched. When it's Faye's turn, she claims that her number is seven. That's when Richard raises his voice. "The other person who gets Room 7 is… Xavier Jensen!" Xavier, the guy whom Faye had once pursued in a grand fashion, shoots her a smile immediately. Everyone cheers on them, claiming that even God wants them to be together. I'm the only one who doesn't say anything. No one knows that I've heard Richard and Faye having a secretive conversation before the start of the game. "Find the ball with a circular bump. That's the mark I've specifically left for you and Xavier." As I watch Faye approach Xavier and arrange his collar with scarlet cheeks, I find myself smiling as well. It turns out that I've wasted three years waiting for Faye to announce our relationship. This time, I decide to be the one leaving this relationship.

I'm Aiden, a background character in a melodrama novel. When the arrogant scholarship student, Brock, transferred into our school and cursed the four most powerful families as a cancer on society, I was studying. While the four heiresses dragged Brock through endless love-hate drama, I kept grinding away. That was until the midterm exams, when I snatched first place away from him. The Holdsworth heiress locked me in a dark storage room, saying she'd keep me there for three days to teach me a lesson. So I calmly dialed an encrypted number on my phone. After all, it's a trashy melodrama. Who doesn't have a hidden identity? Three minutes later, the entire school was surrounded by a fleet of helicopters...

As the only day student in my class, I had spent three years picking up breakfast for my classmates every morning without ever charging a single penny for the errand. That changed when a transfer student joined our class. "Oh, my God… Don't tell me you've all been paying him full price this whole time. You guys have been stuck on campus so long you probably don't know this, but the food vendors outside always give a discount if an entire class places an order. "I can't even imagine how much he's pocketed from the price difference over the past three years." When he noticed the shocked looks on everyone's faces, he smiled and added, "How about this? From now on, just let me know what you want for breakfast. My uncle runs a breakfast truck outside the school, and he knows everyone along the strip. "I'll pick it up for you at the discounted price. I'm not trying to make money. I just want to make some friends." When I heard that, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. What he didn't know was that I'd long since grown sick of waking up two hours early every morning just to buy everyone's breakfast, endure coming back reeking of food, and putting in all that effort only to end up completely unappreciated.

With grad school entrance exams (GRE) looming, everyone was stressed out of their minds when Preston Lewis, the class heartthrob, announced that he'd secured a spot that let him skip the written exam entirely. He even promised he could get the same deal for everyone else. The whole class erupted in cheers and immediately launched into an excited debate over which universities they should choose. But something didn't seem right to me. I moved closer for a look and saw that the screen Preston was showing everyone was just an AI chatbot, Novi. I tried to warn them that Novi was only a chatbot, but my girlfriend, Carly Monroe, shoved me before I could finish. "Anders, you're just mad because you've been studying from morning till night while the rest of us haven't worked as hard. You think we don't deserve to get into grad school with you. "Wouldn't it be great if we could go to grad school together? Or are you seriously the kind of boyfriend who can't stand seeing his girlfriend succeed?" Kendra Walsh, our class president, immediately chimed in, "You're just jealous Preston has connections. It makes all those days and nights you spent studying look like a joke. There's no place in this class for someone as bitter as you!" Their words set the entire class off. Everyone started demanding that I be kicked out of the class group chat and that they didn't want me around anymore. They sneered that if I thought I was so capable, I could take the entrance exams on my own instead of relying on them. I could only shake my head. I was capable. I'd already been admitted to grad school. What the hell did I need them for?

After I secured early admission to one of the country's most prestigious universities, my old high school invited me back to sit for the State Scholars Exam and compete for the top statewide score. But just ten minutes into the math paper, the proctor out of nowhere accused me of cheating. "Everyone else starts with the multiple-choice section. You went straight for the proofs. Were you planning to copy someone else's answers later?" Before I could explain a single word, he dragged me into the boys' restroom. Not only was I humiliated and forced to strip, I also had to let him inspect me over and over again to confirm that I had no cheating devices on my body. After I returned to the exam room, I decided it was better not to cause more trouble, so I started from the multiple-choice section like everyone else. But less than five minutes after I sat down, he yanked me up again. "This is even more fake. You didn't even take time to read or think through the questions before writing down the options. If that isn't cheating, what is?" "I suspect you knew the answers in advance. I'm reporting this to the exam board right now and having your exam qualification revoked!"

I was a genius with an IQ of 180. Even so, I had always kept a low profile. Standing out just made me a target, so I never did. I was good at math, physics, chemistry, biology, astronomy, programming, quantum entanglement, and computer science. I spoke twenty-seven languages. I had mastered everything. When it came time for the SATs, I controlled my score precisely. I finished exactly ten points above the cutoff for an elite university. By “sheer luck,” I snagged the last spot. My classmates were all top students from every corner of the country. All of them looked down on me. They called me the “waitlist wonder,” the “lucky leftover,” and the “bare minimum.” I just smiled and never took their words to heart. That was until the top student in my class, Victor Holloway, announced, “Some people here don’t deserve to be in this class! “I propose that we cut the weakest link after this exam. “I dare whoever comes last to drop out voluntarily.” I was provoked by his words. Was he talking about me? Fine. It was time for me to stop holding back.

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

After the SAT scores get released, everyone in the advanced class hits the 1,400 threshold. The campus heartthrob, Luke Gilbert, recommends the latest AI college application app that is developed by his dad's company to make it easier for everyone. I pull Keyla Simmons, the class president, over and warn her that the risks that come with using an AI application app are far too high. On top of that, there are deadly flaws within the app that can lead to the students getting rejected by their dream colleges. But Keyla responds by hurling a high heel in my face. All of my classmates surround me and begin mocking me relentlessly. "Justin, you're just worried that everyone will get into better courses once they used the AI app to apply for their colleges!" "Heh! If you have a crush on Keyla, then just say it out loud! There's no need to play the jealousy card and throw a tantrum just to ruin everyone's future! Besides, look at how haggard you are right now! You can barely hold a candle to Luke, our campus heartthrob! Haha!" I'm so pissed that my asthma attack gets triggered on the spot. For the sake of everyone's future, I can only escalate things to the point that the education department gets involved. Only then can I stop everyone from using the app. Unexpectedly, on the day I receive my college acceptance letter, a bunch of convicts, who have escaped from prison, vandalize the bookstore that my family owns. Those bastards even violate me and my younger brother in front of our parents. At the same time, they keep gushing about how doing it with a guy feels way more satisfying. Then, they kill our parents in cold blood right in front of our eyes. In the end, they set the entire bookstore on fire, ultimately burning us into ashes. What's worse is that this terrible incident doesn't get reported at all. Instead, my classmates slander me for having illicit relations with outsiders when I was still a high schooler. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Luke suggests that everyone use the AI college application app. This time, I don't bother stopping them. Instead, I'm the first one to agree with Luke. "Humans have to adapt to the growing trends. AI is definitely more professional than humans."

At eleven o’clock at night, I was racking my brains trying to solve the last physics question when a text popped up in my phone. It was Denise Chadburn, the top student in our class. [Pancakes from the west of the city and black tea with two cubes of sugar.] That was in the opposite direction from my house and would take me over half an hour to get there and back. I didn’t want to do it, so I texted her back: [I’m sorry, I need to get to class early tomorrow and can’t go there.] Denise never texted back after that. I thought that was the end of it. Ten minutes later, my homeroom teacher, Ms. Sable, texted me. [Jordan Schmidt, Denise is preparing for the regional Olympiad and is under much pressure. She also has gastric issues. Half an hour of extra studying wouldn’t do your dismal results any good anyway. Help bring our top student some breakfast to save her time.] I stared at my phone screen, my jawline tightening. [Ms. Sable, it’s out of the way for me. It’ll take me half an hour longer on the road.] Ms. Sable sent me a voice message. “Jordan, you’ve got to be more flexible. The fact you were paired up with Denise in our one-to-one mentoring program is to your advantage. She’s smart. A piece of advice from her is more helpful to you than rote learning by yourself for half an hour. Shouldn’t you at least try being helpful to her?” I ignored her texts and left my phone screen to turn dark, reflecting the fatigue on my face.

As a man, if I had one fatal flaw, it would be that I cared a lot about my pride. When I fell off my bike as a kid, I'd get right back up on my feet immediately, wincing through the pain while acting completely fine, terrified that someone might laugh at me. Whenever my mom hired a cleaner to clean the house, I'd spend two hours beforehand sweating bullets scrubbing the place down myself, terrified the maid would see a messy house and laugh at me. Once I started school, it got even worse. If someone else took one advanced tutoring class, I'd sign up for eight. During the day, I'd brag that I never opened a textbook, but at night, I'd secretly grind until dawn—and I was top in my grade every single time. There was no helping it; I was just terrified of getting bad grades and being laughed at. When high school graduation rolled around, I saw all my friends start dating. So, I bit the bullet, asked out the prettiest, smartest girl in our class, and managed to win her over. After all, if my partner turned out to be ugly or dumb, people would laugh at me. Later on, we both got accepted into the same university. However, not long after the semester started, she began getting closer and closer to the popular guy in our school. Whenever people teased them about being a couple, she would neither confirm nor deny it. She would merely smile. "Stop teasing us, guys. Jonas hasn't said anything about it yet." That very night, I broke up with her.

I had a crush on Mandy Sawyer for three years. I had thought it would be my secret pantomime forever. I had even planned to silently wave goodbye to her back on the day of our high school graduation. However, when I saw her weeping silently under her desk over the sudden drop in her usually stellar results… I watched her trembling shoulders and knew that I could no longer pretend to be a stranger.

After the SAT scores were released, Sean White threw a lavish graduation party. He was the most popular guy at school and had been on financial aid. That night, I got a text saying my credit card had been maxed out. I went to confront Sean. Instead, I found him standing next to my girlfriend, Janine Slater, looking like he was about to cry. "Just because I'm on financial aid, does that mean I can't hold a graduation party?" he asked. Janine rushed to comfort him, then turned on me. "Your family has plenty of money. Spending a little on Sean isn't going to hurt you," she said. Sure, my family was wealthy, but that didn't make me a charity case. Why should I pay for him? I refused to back down and called the police to get my money back. However, Janine retaliated by sabotaging my family's company, pushing it to the brink of bankruptcy. While I was on my way to meet with investors, Janine and Sean plotted together and ran me over. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of Sean's graduation party.

I saw my college roommate send a voice message into a group chat. I watched his screen as our four other roommates responded. However, there were no notifications on my phone. That was when I realized the five of them had created a group without me. In that group, they complained about me being a dumb rich kid, cursed my mom for being a homewrecker, and secretly took nude photographs of me. They were even planning to drug me and give me to a older rich woman for her entertainment. I covered all their meals, drinks, and living expenses, yet they dared to betray me? Fine. I would show them the true rage of a trust fund kid!

My deskmate, Elaine Jenkins, was the kind of girl who was born with a sharp tongue. She loved nothing more than embarrassing me in front of everyone. When I showed up in a brand-new white shirt, she sneered, "Look at the country boy who finally made it to the city. Are you really that worried people will not realize how hopelessly tacky your taste is?" When I switched to contact lenses, she laughed. "Those eyes look like a dead fish's. Taking off your glasses is not going to magically turn you into a handsome guy." Then I won a prize in the math competition. She just rolled her eyes and said, "Please. Everyone knows he stays up all night grinding through problem sets. He practically worked himself bald just to win that thing." It went on like that until the night of our graduation party. Our homeroom teacher had a little too much to drink and jokingly suggested that Elaine and I should just get together. Of course, she started making snide remarks. "All he does all day is solve math problems. He's about as romantic as a block of wood. Whoever wants to date him can go ahead!" The next second, the aloof top student in our class stood up in front of everyone. "I will!"