Not until he had dragged himself out of bed to wash up, had a cup of black coffee, and fed his cat did Ayan feel it appropriate to return his previously missed calls. The call was answered on the second ring, and a loud voice rang out excitedly.

"Ayan! Why didn't you answer your phone! Ahhh never mind more importantly where are you! You won't believe who I –"

"If you don't explain what you were calling me for I'm gonna hang up" his voice was steady and clear, and the person on the other end immediately quieted down. He could hear her muttering curses under her breath, but he was unfazed. After all, he had enough experience to know that if he let her ramble on, an hour would pass before she got to the actual point of the conversation.

" I would have gotten to it eventually," came her muttered reply.

" Well you can get to it now instead," he retorted, amusement evident in his voice.

"Wow I wish everyone could know the top student is really such a –"

"Lyra."

"Alright alright! Did you forget everyone has to pick mentors today? They aren't here all day so just get to school! Don't go back to sleep!"

Ayan frowned – she was right, he had forgotten. He always tried to get as much sleep as possible – giving his dreams the freedom to run their course. Of course, he still had a life outside of his dreams, and this habit often resulted in his neglecting of duties that arose from it. Lyra was his closest confidant since kindergarten and, she knew of his tendencies to oversleep. In response, she habitually ensured his punctuality for significant events. While he was grateful for her care, it failed to dissipate his discontent for being robbed a scarce to come by chance for information.

He gave his assurance that he would be there soon and ended the call before she could divert to another topic. Two white paws grabbed at his pants leg almost immediately after, demanding his attention. A fluffy furball with a white coat and contrastingly dark brown legs and face and little white paws stared fixedly at him. Stooping down, he scratched the fluffy feline gently under her chin, receiving a deep purr in return. He chuckled at the creature and stroked her enthusiastically for a bit more before standing up.

"Gotta go Socks."

The feline cried loudly in protest, following him around as he readied himself – eventually giving up to search for further amusement when she realized her demands for attention were ignored. He figured he ought to dress a bit more formal for such an event but still wanted maximum comfort. Eventually, he settled on a loose-fitting, long-sleeved, navy crewneck and dark grey casual trousers cuffed at the ankles. Stopping at the entranceway to slip on a pair of black sneakers, he slung a backpack on one shoulder and made his way out the door.

The weather in October brought cold winds to the seaside town he currently resided in, signalling the upcoming rains that accompanied the autumn season. It was a far cry from home and a change in lifestyle – a 10-hour flight from his home country, where the heat shone all year round. Fortunately for him, he was the only child to successful parents who led more than comfortable lives. Even when he proposed flying halfway across the world to study a degree in fine arts, they were understanding, encouraging him to pursue his interests. 

The house he resided in was a 10minute walk away from his campus.

As he made his way, he reminisced on the past four years. He was grateful his parents had never questioned his interests - because how would he have explained that he had planned his life path because of his dreams. In his teenage years, he started sketching the scenes, seeking a sense of existence for the world in his dreams. Sketches turned to paintings and paintings into sculptures. He found a sense of belonging when working on a piece, etching away into the stone and bringing forth a life form. Interestingly enough, the more he dedicated himself, the better his craft grew.

He had specifically chosen this university, renowned for their fine arts programme, and this town, famous for their mountains rich with some of the best marble in the world. For their final assignment and thesis, the school brought in professionals already established in the industry to serve as mentors to the students. This afforded them the experience of working with and learning from these professionals. Additionally, students who were outstanding enough would be awarded internships to work under their preferred instructor.

Arriving upon campus, he made a beeline for the art department. He glanced at the time on his phone – convincing himself that 11:30am was still a reasonable time. As he entered, any hopes of being inconspicuous were shattered by the loud shout of his name across the room. He looked up and glared at the culprit, who smiled widely and waved at him from her seat. He coughed lightly to break the atmosphere of everyone staring at him and apologized for being late, shuffling through the classroom and taking a seat next to his still grinning friend. Lyra sat gangly in her chair – long legs stretched out and hands tucked into the pockets of an army green boiler suit sporting blotches of paint here and there. The sleeves rolled to her elbows revealed tattoos spanning the entirety of her right hand – hues of black and red against the warm beige of her skin. Long, black hair hung lazily in a bun on her shoulders. Her eyes, framed by a pair of black-rimmed aviators, curved into crescents as she smiled at him and leaned closer.

"Guess my mentor," she whispered excitedly.

He waited for her to continue, aware that she had no need for an actual response. She turned her gaze to the front, looking at the group of mentors – an assortment of external professionals and lecturers within their programme. Following her gaze, he scoffed upon seeing the person in focus – a young woman stood in focused discussion with some students. Her platinum grey hair was pulled neatly into a high bun, the fringes of it framing a delicate face. Dark, doe eyes shone brightly against the deep reddish-brown of her skin, ruby red lips curled into an amiable smile.

"Thought she already told you she has no interest in dating her students."

He had thought that his friend reached the peak of her shamelessness when she brought flowers and confessed to his mom when they were teens, but she continued to prove him wrong. Sometimes, he was convinced that she had followed him all the way here just to torment him with her escapades. At the start of their second year, she barged into his house talking about a chance encounter with a "bombshell" who she was sure she wanted to marry. He had written it off as another one of her short-lived flings – until said bombshell showed up as their lecturer two days later. From that point on, he had the misfortune of being a first-hand witness to how persistently brazen she could be. Over a year later and her affection and interest only seemed to grow, despite the apparent disinterest shown by the other party.

"Adina likes me," came her retort, "she just needs a little encouragement. Besides," she grinned widely, "she won't be able to use that excuse for much longer."

Ignoring her over-familiarity with their own lecturer, Ayan turned his attention to the persons at the front of the classroom. He hoped to work with someone who would grant him all creative freedom in his work. He laughed when he thought of the muse for his final piece. In some ways, he figured, he could understand what Lyra felt. After all, the person he was chasing after was far more inconceivable.