After a few hours of travel on the train, Mike finally arrived at his university. As he stepped onto the platform, he spotted someone waiting for him—a tall figure with fair skin, dark-brown hair, and a face that seemed oddly familiar, almost like that of a celebrity.

"Mike, I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it to our meeting." Harold greeted him with a smile.

Without wasting a moment, Mike reached into his bag and pulled out the drawing that he had requested. "Here you go," he said, handing it over.

Harold's eyes lit up as he examined the drawing. "Wow, Mike, this looks even better than I imagined! You definitely deserve an extra tip for this!" he exclaimed, reaching for his wallet. Mike accepted the payment and the additional tip graciously.

"We should probably head to class before we're late," Harold suggested, glancing at his watch, a sleek and expensive-looking timepiece. With that, they hurried off towards the room where their class was scheduled, eager not to miss it.

...

After the lecture concluded, Mike wasted no time. First on his agenda was a trip to the internet shop to submit the requirements Jason (one of his classmates) had requested the day before. With that task checked off, he eagerly made his way to the bakery, craving his favorite bread.

The university they attended was renowned for its prestige, attracting affluent students whose tastes often reflected the upscale environment. Consequently, food options were expensive, making indulgences like Mike's favorite bread a rare treat. During breaks, he typically settled for more budget-friendly snacks like biscuits.

Despite his status as a scholar, Mike was tethered to this university due to its exceptional academic reputation, consistently ranking at the top of the country's educational institutions.

As he strolled towards his beloved spot, the Chinese garden nestled within the campus, his attention was drawn to a gathering near the university grounds.

...

In the midst of the gathering, two figures caught Mike's attention. A lady stood upright, her hands clasped over her mouth in apparent surprise, while a man kneeled before her, speaking earnestly. Behind them, a musician held up a drawing—one that he himself had created at Harold's request. Mesmerized, Mike observed the unfolding scene, unable to tear his gaze away.

"Will you be my girlfriend, Lyn?" Harold's words rang out, clear and resolute. The lady, identified as Lyn, seemed elated at his declaration. Mike recalled Harold's persistent pursuit of her since their first year of college, but she had always maintained a certain aloofness. However, in that moment, any facade seemed to melt away as Lyn responded without hesitation, and the two immediately embraced. Cheers erupted from the onlookers, particularly since Harold was renowned as the university's star basketball player.

Hand in hand, the two made plans to head to the university restaurant, their joy palpable as they were trailed by their friends. As they departed the university grounds, a sense of celebration lingered in the air, marking the beginning of a new chapter for the couple.

...

Leaving the university grounds behind, Mike sought solace in the tranquil embrace of the Chinese garden. It was his haven, a sanctuary where he often retreated to lose himself in the pages of novels.

Finding a bench, he settled in, allowing the serenity of the surroundings to wash over him. Yet, amidst the peaceful scenery, his thoughts were tumultuous, haunted by the events he had just witnessed. "It's evident that I don't stand a chance," he mused, the words he had spoken to himself the previous night resurfacing with painful clarity. "It's just right that I didn't pursue confessing to her, even if there was an opportunity."

With a sigh, he pulled out his cellphone, seeking distraction in the digital realm. As he scrolled through various options, he stumbled upon some fan fiction, a departure from his usual literary choices. Deciding to delve into the unfamiliar genre, he immersed himself in the story, losing track of time as the narrative captivated his attention.

Hours later, he finally looked up from his phone, momentarily disoriented as he reoriented himself to the world outside the confines of the story.

"Time flies, doesn't it?" Mike remarked, glancing at the clock on his cellphone. "The break is about to end."

...

With a sense of urgency, he rose from his seat in the Chinese garden and made his way towards the classroom for the next subject. However, as he arrived at the room where he was supposed to sit, he was stopped in his tracks by a familiar voice.

"Mike, why did you send the thesis report just now? I was requesting it last night," Jason asked, sounding perplexed.

"Jason, I apologize for sending the thesis report just now. I had other priorities to do, so I only managed to do it now," Mike explained.

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"What you did caused us to be late in submitting our thesis report," Jason reprimanded Mike sternly before leaving the area, his frustration evident in his tone.

As Mike sat alone, he couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversation from Jason's friends nearby.

"Bro, that unnecessary addition in the thesis report really threw us off," one of Jason's friends commented, frustration evident in his tone.

"Yeah, and this isn't the first time. Last semester, when he was in my group, it was the same story. Always late submissions," another friend chimed in, shaking his head in exasperation. "He's too quiet; you'd think he's a girl with that skinny frame," he added, punctuating his remark with a derisive laugh.

The conversation buzzed with tension and dissatisfaction, with each comment adding to the mounting frustration.

Jason, meanwhile, attempted to mollify his friends' concerns. "Well, it's not like we get to choose our group members for the final thesis defense," he explained.

"Bro, you should talk to Professor Li about this. Maybe he can do something about removing Mike from our group," one of his friends suggested.

"Hmm... I might give that a try after class," Jason responded, distancing himself from where Mike was seated. The tension in the air was palpable, and Mike couldn't shake off the sinking feeling in his chest.

Unbeknownst to his classmates, Mike heard every word of their conversation but chose to remain silent, his expression stoic despite the sting of their words. In a hushed tone, he muttered to himself, his hands clenched tightly in frustration.

"Honestly, I can handle it, but I'm just really short on money," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with resignation.

"If it weren't for the need for funds for this thesis about the prototype, I would have gone solo instead of being with you guys," he added, his words heavy with a sense of regret.

As the class came to an end, the atmosphere shifted abruptly when Harold stepped to the front of the classroom, a beaming smile adorning his face.

"Guys, I invite all of you to join the celebration because Lyn and I are officially a couple," he announced, his gaze affectionately fixed on her.

The classmates erupted in cheers and congratulations, swept up in the excitement of the moment. After all, who would refuse an invitation to a celebration hosted by him, given his wealthy and influential family background?

Mike chose not to respond and left the room to go home. Many college students exited the building to head home, but he was the only one without company. This had been his situation for four years, compounded by financial problems and his introverted nature. No one showed interest in befriending him, whether male or female.

He might be labeled as weird or boring, but he has grown accustomed to it since elementary school. Having few or no close friends was not a big deal for him. Nevertheless, he didn't neglect his studies because he aimed to finish his education to support his parents and siblings.

In the afternoon, Mike reached the intersection leading to the train station when he noticed a mother and child in front of him, about to cross the street.

"Julie, be careful with your food; it might spill," the mother advised her child, holding Julie's left hand. She simply nodded while eating with her right hand; he overheard their conversation.

"Her mom is remarkably attractive; one wouldn't assume she already has a child," he pondered. "Wait, why is this thought crossing my mind? Perhaps it's the influence of the milf in the tagline of the novels I finished reading before," he added, a hint of confusion evident in his expression.

As he trailed the mother and her daughter along the pedestrian road, nearing the other side of the road, he shifted his gaze to the right. An SUV swiftly overtook them, taking advantage of a momentary pause caused by a halting container truck in the middle of the road, seemingly unaware of the pedestrians about to cross.

The child's mother seemed oblivious, so Mike suddenly ran because he was the closest to them. "Will I make it? Wait, why am I doing this? I don't even know them," he said to himself while running fast to save the mother and child from impending danger.

His surroundings seemed to slow down as he approached. When he was close enough, he swiftly grabbed the mother and her child by the waist and pushed them towards the sidewalk. The events happened so quickly that the onlookers didn't have time to react. The SUV driver didn't stop to check on the situation, prompting many people to run after the vehicle.

Amidst the chaos of chasing the SUV, he took a deep breath and checked himself for any injuries. Thankfully, he only had minor scratches on his arm and thigh, for which he felt grateful. The mother and child, now fully aware of the situation, suddenly burst into tears, fearing that something dreadful might have occurred if not for Mike's intervention.

Nevertheless, they also suffered some scratches during the incident. The mother expressed her gratitude to him and handed him some money for medicine, appreciative of his role in saving them. The mother and child opted to stay at the scene of the incident.

He chose not to wait for the SUV driver to be caught. Instead, he promptly made his way to the drugstore to acquire medication, hoping to alleviate the discomfort of the scratches he had incurred. Subsequently, he headed to the train station, anticipating his ride. With an hour remaining before the train's scheduled arrival, he opted to visit the restroom, aiming to change into a fresh set of clothes.

After the quick refresh, he settled onto a well-worn bench, eager to immerse himself back into the pages of his novel. "This Naruto fanfic is unexpectedly captivating," he exclaimed with a spark of enthusiasm, fully engrossed in the intricate narrative. Suddenly, a distinct beep resonated, signaling the imminent arrival of the train.

In the middle of the journey, an unexpected incident suddenly occurred. The sudden impact jolted Mike back to reality as the train unexpectedly came to a halt. Chaos ensued inside each compartment, with passengers thrown off their seats or displaced.

Wide-eyed, he surveyed the scene, witnessing the aftermath of the accident—blood, severed limbs, and bodies impaled by debris from the train's railing. As he looked down, he noticed a sharp shard of a shattered mirror pierced near his heart.

He didn't panic, and a wry smile formed on his face as he grasped the gravity of the situation. "It looks like I won't be going home tonight. Sorry, Jun, it seems I won't be able to teach you how to play the flute," he whispered in his thoughts while his gaze was fixed on the broken mirror embedded near his heart.

He tried reaching for his cellphone, lying just within arm's reach, attempting to say his farewells. However, with every move, the sizable shard embedded in his chest shifted, hindering his efforts.

In his last moments, he reminisced about the happy times spent with his parents, and the thought of his browsing history crossed his mind, realizing he might have forgotten to delete it.

"Am I going to die a virgin?" he chuckled, finding humor even in the face of death. After uttering those words, his vision dimmed as blood flowed steadily from his chest, and he succumbed to the inevitable end.