"So, today's the day, huh? You gonna ask her out?" Michel nudged Alexander with a sly grin, a mischievous spark in his eyes.
The light drained from Alexander's face at the mere suggestion. "What...what do you mean? There is no such thing," he stammered, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.
Michel leaned in, "Oh, come on! I see how you look at her. There's no way..."
"Hey, man, let's just stop," Alexander interrupted, a plea in his voice, as if he was afraid, people would heard.
But Michel persisted, a playful glint in his eye. "Well then, have it your way. By the way, I was going to spill the beans about the upcoming Romeo and Juliet play in the varsity. But seeing as you're not interested in her, I doubt you'd want to know about the play, considering your aversion to these kinds of events." Michel's words dripped with teasing charm.
As the sentence hung in the air, there was no immediate reaction from Alexander. However, the glee on Michel's face remained unblemished. He knew, deep down, that Alexander's curiosity was a smoldering flame, waiting to burst into a full-fledged fire. He knew alexander was not going to keep it in him for long, he knew him way too greatly.
"Come on, Spill it," Alexander urged, his voice cutting through the air with a sense of urgency.
"Why should I tell you if you're not even interested?" Michel retorted, an annoyed expression on his face, though a playful undertone danced beneath the surface.
Alexander's playful smile countered Michel's irritation. "Oh, nothing much. It's just that you, my friend, have gone through all this trouble for me, and I wouldn't want your efforts to go in vain, now would I?"
Michel, maintaining his sharp demeanor, responded with a humble tone, "You don't have to worry about that. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn't handle this much work going in vain for a friend? I'll consider it proof of my friendship."
"Oh! Come on, maaaaan!" Alexander playfully protested, shooting Michel a helpless look as he jabbed his elbow into Michel's ribs, eliciting a ticklish response.
"Ok...ok, I'll say it," Michel conceded, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Word on the street is, in three days, there's going to be a dazzling performance of Romeo and Juliet at the varsity. And here's the kicker – I have heard, your crush is about to take the spotlight as Juliet."
Alexander's expression surged with a mix of excitement and apprehension. However, the light in his eyes dimmed as he asked with a hint of dejection, "Who's playing the role of Romeo?"
Noticing the sudden shift, Michel frowned, offering reassurance, "Don't worry, it's just a varsity production. No mandatory kissing scenes in front of the whole crowd, and besides, she's not the type for that kind of drama."
"Yeah, let's hope so," Alexander replied with a forced smile, the undertone of panic evident in his voice.
Michel shook his head confidently, dismissing any doubts, "Hope? My friend, hope is too weak a word. This, my dear Alexander, is destiny in the making."
"And what makes you so sure?" Alexander teased, a glimmer of hope dancing in his eyes.
Michel leaned in with a conspiratorial air, "Because your brother said so. Ha...Ha...ha."
The illogical confidence in Michel's statement somehow, Instead, a lit a flicker of hope in his eyes.
"Actually, think about this. It could be an opportunity for you," Michel said in a thoughtful expression.
Alexander, feigning indifference, asked, "And how's that?" Yet, beneath the nonchalant exterior, a spark of excitement lingered in his eyes.
"Imagine this – the role of Romeo is still up for grabs. Now, what if you take a shot at the audition and, voila, you get selected? Suddenly, it's you and, what's her name..."
"Ana."
"Right, you and Ana, center stage. And remember what I mentioned earlier?"
"The part about kissing not being obligatory?" Alexander recalled, a wry helpless smile playing on his lips.
"Exactly! Picture this: kissing isn't a mandatory script directive, but if the mood strikes, well, you've got the green light." Michel's tone brimmed with playful encouragement.
"So, what's your point?" Alexander asked, curiosity now burning brightly in his eyes, his thumb tapping nervously as he struggled to maintain a composed demeanor.
"I mean, what kind of a fool are you? Imagine if, by some cosmic chance, she looks at you and falls head over heels. Picture her wanting to add a touch of realism to the play, or even better, what if she's been harboring a secret crush on you all this time, and the play becomes the perfect excuse to steal a kiss. She's spoken to you on a few occasions, hasn't she?" Michel teased, his words laden with excitement.
"Yes, yes, she did, unlike everyone else," Alexander responded, his voice starting with a delighted tone and ending in a sorrowful one, like a fleeting melody that shifted from major to minor.
Michel leaned in, "Well, there you have it. There's a high chance that she likes you."
"I mean, it could also be that she's just being nice to me. She talks with everyone. Well, everyone except for Chase." Alexander's uncertainty echoed through his words, a mix of hope and doubt playing out on the stage of his emotions.
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"Well, that's even better. Every girl here has a crush on that handsome son of a devil. But, you are lucky, Ana doesn't talk to him, so you might just have a better shot. And let's not forget, the main thing is, it's you who has to make the decision. So, summon that courage and take the plunge. You do know that women adore courageous men, right?"
Alexander hesitated, mulling over the words before responding, "Well..."
Michel cut in with an infectious enthusiasm, "And before you say anything, just remember, even if Ana isn't crowned the most beautiful girl in the class, let alone the entire varsity, she has many eyeing her. So, seize the opportunity, my friend, or the regret that'll follow might just be immeasurable."
Hearing Michel's words, Alexander stood frozen, a statue carved from the very essence of contemplation. His silence hung heavy in the air, a pregnant pause pregnant with the weight of self-doubt.
Finally, he shook his head, a subtle motion betraying the turmoil within him. With a sigh that seemed to release the burden he carried, he spoke, "Even though all is said and done, there's another thing to consider."
Michel leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "What?"
Alexander's gaze dropped, and his voice took on a dejected tone, "I mean, look at her. She's almost perfect—caring, loving, cheerful, helpful, and, of course, beautiful. I heard she's even reached the Xeo 1 level recently. Does a loser like me, who doesn't have much ability to cultivate, let alone anything else, have the eligibility to talk to her?"
Michel's response was a murmur, almost to himself, "Well, I don't see this much beauty."
"What?" Alexander's eyes widened, seeking an explanation.
"No...No, nothing. Forget it," Michel dismissed his own words with a wave. "Let me tell you something. You're a man who hardly cares about anything. Even now, you don't know the news about the play, but you knew that Ana has passed the Xeo 1 stage in her cultivation. And that tells something, my friend. It tells what your heart wants, and what the heart wants, the heart wants. Nothing else matters." Michel locked eyes with Alexander, a profound sincerity in his gaze.
"But...."
"There is no 'but.' Never forget that Helmabord destroyed an entire country in Andromeda just to get revenge for his fiancé's rape," Michel's voice carried a weight of encouragement.
"Well, I am no Helmabord," Alexander countered, a trace of hesitation in his tone.
"Then be one. Do you know that Salba, Toro, Jimmythy, and many others have already broken through the Xeo level one and are currently in Xeo stage 2?" Michel's words were delivered with a solemnity that mirrored the gravity of the situation.
"What about Rosa and Arnol?"
"Their top position is unshakable. They're at the peak of Xeo 2 stage and can break through to 3 at any time. Some even say that Arnol is already in the 3rd stage."
"Oh my god, then we really have to step up our game. Otherwise, we will be last again."
"Technically, we were in the middle, not last."
"Well, you understand. So is your cultivation going okay this time?"
"Yeah, I think this time I will move up the class ranking a lot. And what about you? Did those medicines or anything else work?" Michel's inquiry held a note of genuine concern.
"No. they are quack medicine anyway."
"Still, you should stick to the regimen. Who knows, one day it might decide to work its magic. Your mom mentioned you're not too keen on keeping a routine."
“Oh!” alexander sighed as he fell into silence.
Michel did not press him either. He knew his condition, Alexander had a deficiency on his body as he was almost not compatible with any cultivation manual and his progress was too slow.
It was as if he was someone between a cultivator and non-cultivator.
And without cultivation he will have a hard time leaving, let alone fulfilling his dream which was to travel the outside world in the space.
Without cultivation you would not be able to get a normal job. Take doctors, for instance. A non-cultivator doc? Good luck diagnosing, let alone treating, the problems cultivators face. They need someone who can navigate the maze of meridians and delve into the realm of esoteric ailments. It's like sending a chef to fix a spaceship - wrong skills, wrong job.
And engineers? Imagine working on a machine crafted for cultivators without a clue about cultivation. You'd be staring at gears like they're alien artifacts. No matter how sharp your mind, you'd be as useful as a compass in a desert.
Like that almost everything needed cultivation on one way or another. Though there were normal people working in this jobs, they were either the miracle workers of the field or just bottom feeders. No matter how he thought he could not think of anything but desk job for Alexander. And he knew how much Alexander hated it.
The mention of going beyond the planet emerged as a bittersweet echo—a distant, borderline implausible dream for Alexander.
Looking at the sad yet deep contemplative look on alexander's face, he hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Mind if I share something with you?"
"Of course, man. We're friends," Alexander replied, his tone nonchalant, a casual assurance in his words.
Michel leaned in, his expression serious. "Alright, but don't take offense. Personally, I don't find her that striking. And let's be honest, you're a bit on the softer side for our age. Sometimes, being soft can be mistaken for incompetence. Plus, she's got a better cultivation level than you. That might not sit well with her. So..."
Before Michel could conclude, Alexander cut in, a hint of defiance in his voice, "She's not like that. True love transcends cultivation levels. And being soft, well, isn't that a positive trait? How does it become a flaw? I just don't get it. It doesn't make any sense."
Michel's response hung in the air for a moment, "Whether it makes sense or not, I can't say. All I know is these are the facts. Consider this—why would a girl be interested in a guy weaker than her? Anyway, the main point I want to get across is, she's not the be-all and end-all. So, even if she turns you down, don't do anything impulsive. And remember, your brother is always here for you," Michel conveyed, his words carrying a weight of sincerity.
"Well, now, armed with all this wisdom, I say it's high time you go and propose to her," Michel declared with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, attempting to lighten the mood.
As their conversation continued, the passing buildings outside the bus created a fleeting backdrop. Before they knew it, a vast expanse unfolded before them, a landscape divided by a 20-foot round wall on all sides. In a place where towering structures and glaring lights dominated the scene, this area stood out. Open fields sprawled with trees, interspersed with buildings of modest height. Most structures barely reached five stories, though a cluster of 10-story buildings stood prominently in the middle. Amidst them all, a charming 2-story bungalow graced the landscape, surrounded by a round pond like a protective mote.
Nestled at the southeast corner of the varsity, a 250-story tower-like building loomed, a structure that never failed to capture Alexander's attention. It housed most of the varsity's labs but remained off-limits to the majority. Even when students were granted access, strict restrictions confined them to specific areas. However, the well-qualified teachers found sanctuary within its walls, often dedicating most of their time to pursuits beyond regular classes.
As the bus descended, Alexander's eyes traced the varsity landscape below. It landed gracefully in its designated spot, surrounded by a fleet of similar buses, most towering with two stories. In a distant corner stood two weathered, one-story relics whose peeling paint told tales of bygone journeys.
"Please close the window beside you before you go," echoed the disembodied voice from the soundbox on each floor, a harmonious reminder that their journey had reached its end.
Turning to Michel, Alexander proposed, "Man, you head to class; I've got a date with the library."
Michel shook his head, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "No chance, buddy. Today's class is early. If you ditch, be ready to collect those absence numbers."
"Oh, man! Guess the library will have to wait," Alexander sighed, closing the window as the duo made their way towards the awaiting class.
Once inside, they claimed their habitual seats, side by side. Ana occupied the front row, her attention devoted to the teacher's words. Alexander mirrored the focus, fully aware that his path to understanding required extra effort. His eyes, however, occasionally strayed towards Ana, a silent acknowledgment of a presence that held more significance than the textbooks on his desk.
Observing this, Michel couldn't help but smile, shaking his head in amused understanding.
Once the classes concluded, Michel approached Alexander, suggesting they share a cab home and split the fare as they strolled through the fields.
"No, I need to go to the library," Alexander asserted.
Michel inquired, "What will you do?"
With a sigh, Alexander confessed, "Well, for the new assignment I was given, I need to dig into some history."
Michel, suspecting a familiar motive, probed, "Be honest with me, did you again try to find some cultivation method that suits you?"
Alexander, exhaling deeply, admitted, "It would be lying if I did not say that the idea never crossed my mind. But as most of the good and easy ones were taken, I chose this assignment, thinking it might introduce me to some new cultivation method that could suit me."
"Which era?" Michel queried.
"I think the assignment would focus on the era in which we got included in the alliance."
"Slim chance," a feminine but stern voice cut through the conversation, "if you truly want to know something about cultivation, try learning the age of hero’s era."