The ceiling was grey.
Dorian lay still, listening to Tyler's breathing—slow, heavy, innocent. Morning light pushed through the blinds.
He didn't move.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown: Don't forget. 4 PM.
He stared at the screen. 7:14 AM.
He sat up. Looked at Kyle's corner.
Empty.
The blanket was folded. The pillow was bare. But on it—folded in half—was a piece of notebook paper.
Dorian reached over. Unfolded it.
Three words, written in small, neat handwriting:
You've already started.
His blood went cold.
He looked at Tyler. Still asleep. He looked at the door. Closed.
He folded the note. Put it in his pocket.
The system interface flickered.
DEBT: 12%
NEXT PAYMENT: 1 DAY, 1 HOUR
---
He showered. Dressed.
The dining hall was crowded. He grabbed coffee, black, no food. Sat near the window, facing the door.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown: Looking for someone?
Dorian's head snapped up. Scanned the room.
Students laughing. Phones out. A girl yawning. A guy dropping his tray.
No one watching him.
Unknown: Relax. I'm not there.
Unknown: Yet.
---
On the way to class, he saw Marcus.
Standing near the science building, alone, coffee in hand, not drinking it.
Dorian almost kept walking.
Then Marcus looked up.
"You don't stop."
He turned and walked away.
Dorian's phone buzzed.
Unknown: That didn't feel good, did it?
---
He went to class. Didn't listen. Stared at the whiteboard.
His phone stayed silent.
After class, he walked past the coffee cart. Maya was working. She saw him. Didn't wave. Didn't glare.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown: You keep looking over your shoulder. It's embarrassing.
Unknown: Four hours.
12:01 PM.
---
He went back to the dorm.
Tyler was standing in front of the mirror, inspecting his freshly shaved head. His bald head gleamed under the light.
He turned his head side to side, then ran a slow hand over it with a satisfied nod.
"Yeah," he said. "This is working."
Dorian watched him. "You're enjoying this too much."
"Why wouldn't I?" Tyler shot back. "It's paying dividends."
He turned, grin already forming.
"Chloe texted me this morning."
Dorian didn't react. "And?"
"She wants to meet again. Lunch. Today." Tyler spread his hands slightly. "Back-to-back appearances."
Dorian raised an eyebrow. "That fast."
"That effective," Tyler corrected. "I'm telling you, something shifted."
He tapped the side of his head.
"She kept touching it yesterday. Like she couldn't help herself. I think I unlocked something."
"You unlocked scalp curiosity."
"Call it what you want," Tyler said. "It worked."
He adjusted his jersey, glancing at his reflection again.
"And this—this is the real MVP. Lucky jersey."
Dorian let out a quiet breath. "Of course it is."
Tyler glanced at him, catching the tone.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No, say it."
Dorian hesitated.
"How'd you do it?"
Tyler blinked. "Do what?"
"Get her to say yes again."
For a moment, Tyler didn't answer.
Then he shrugged.
"I just talked to her. Didn't overthink it."
A beat.
Then the grin slipped back into place.
"But yeah—" he rubbed his head again, "—this didn't hurt."
Dorian looked away.
"Right."
Tyler studied him for a second longer.
"You good?"
Dorian didn't answer.
No. I'm being watched. I have a date with my professor. My life is being negotiated by something I don't understand.
And somehow… you're worried about lunch.
"I'm fine."
Tyler held his gaze a moment longer.
Then he nodded. "Alright."
He grabbed his phone.
"I'm heading out. Don't wait up."
He left.
The door clicked shut.
Dorian lay on his bed. Stared at the ceiling.
---
His phone buzzed.
Unknown: 2 hours.
He stood up. Walked to the window.
The parking lot was half-empty. Cars baked in the afternoon sun. Near the far edge—leaning against a lamppost—a figure in a dark hoodie.
The figure didn't move. Facing the building. Facing his window.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown: I can see you.
Dorian's throat went dry. He stepped back.
His phone buzzed again.
Unknown: Turn around.
He didn't.
Not immediately.
His hand tightened around the phone. His pulse climbed.
If I turn around, this becomes real.
Unknown: Don't make this harder than it needs to be.
Dorian exhaled.
Then he turned.
The room was empty.
The door. The desk. Tyler's bed. Nothing had changed.
For a second, he just stood there.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown: Not there.
A pause.
Unknown: Check the hallway.
Dorian's eyes shifted to the door.
Closed.
Still.
His hand hovered over the knob. Stopped.
If I open this… something changes.
Something I can't take back.
His phone buzzed again.
Unknown: I'm waiting.
Dorian turned the knob.
Slowly.
The door opened with a soft click.
The hallway stretched out in both directions—empty, quiet, ordinary.
No one. No movement.
Just the long strip of carpet and the buzzing lights overhead.
Then he saw it.
A piece of paper.
Folded. Placed carefully on the floor, just outside his door.
Dorian stepped out. Picked it up.
Unfolded it.
Same handwriting. Small. Precise.
Don't be late.
His fingers tightened around the paper.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown: See you soon.
Dorian looked up.
Down the hallway. Left. Right.
Empty.
He stepped back into the room. Closed the door. Locked it.
The click sounded louder than it should have.
He checked the time.
1:47 PM.
The system interface flickered.
DEBT: 13%
NEXT PAYMENT: 20 HOURS
He stood by the window, looking out at the parking lot.
The figure was gone.
But the note was still in his hand.
---
[END OF CHAPTER 35]