Chapter Text
The campus was quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that settled in once the day students disappeared and the buildings stopped pretending they were awake. Sophia had stayed later than planned, stacking extra revision sessions for her finals until the hours blurred together. When she finally packed up and stepped into the hallway, her phone read 6:01 p.m. — later than she liked. The academic building felt hollow now. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Sophia walked with purpose, already organizing her thoughts for the evening.
Then she heard it.
An electric guitar riff cut through the corridor — clean, confident, unmistakably good. Sophia slowed, then stopped. It wasn’t showy. It was precise. The kind of playing that didn’t need an audience. She followed the sound to an open door and leaned against the frame. Inside, a woman stood with her back to her, fingers moving effortlessly along the fretboard. A white baggy T-shirt hung loose over dark denim, brown Uggs planted firmly as she shifted her weight. Her dark curls were pulled back in a way that looked careless but intentional.
Sophia stayed quiet until the solo ended.
“That was really good,” she said.
The woman glanced over her shoulder, unimpressed. No jump. No apology. Just a brief, assessing look before she turned back to her amp.
“Yeah,” she said flatly. “I know.”
Sophia’s eyebrow lifted. “Bold.”
The woman shrugged, adjusting the strap of her guitar. “Accurate.”
“You always play like that for empty hallways?” Sophia asked lightly.
“Only when someone’s listening,” the woman replied without looking at her.
Sophia smiled at that. “Then I’ll try not to inflate your ego.”
The woman finally faced her, expression unreadable. “If you’re gonna stand there,” she said, tone lazy, “at least don’t make it weird.”
Sophia tilted her head, amused. “I think we passed that point.”
The woman huffed, unplugging her guitar halfway. “You done?”
“Not yet,” Sophia said. “But I can be.”
The room settled into silence, the hum of the amp lingering between them.
The woman continued packing away her guitar, methodical in her movements, as if the routine gave her something solid to hold onto while she waited for the interaction to run its course. She settled the instrument carefully into its case, adjusting it until it fit just right, then zipped the bag closed with quiet finality. She reached for a light grey zip-up and slipped it over her shoulders, leaving it hanging loose, unbothered — already halfway gone.
“Leaving already?” Sophia said lightly. “I was starting to think this was the highlight of my evening.”
The woman didn’t look at her as she slung the strap of the guitar bag over her shoulder. “Then you should aim higher,” she replied flatly, heading for the door.
Sophia pushed off the frame to make room for her, stepping aside without losing her composure. “Fair,” she said. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t usually stop walking for just anyone.”
The woman paused, just for a second, hand on the door. She glanced back, eyes sharp, unreadable. “Congratulations,” she said. “You’ve officially broken your streak.”
She didn’t wait for a response. She stepped past Sophia and into the hallway, footsteps unhurried as she disappeared down the corridor. Sophia watched her go, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. Whatever that was, it hadn’t been nothing. And she had the distinct feeling she’d hear that guitar again. Sophia lingered in the room for a few moments, her gaze drifting back toward the hallway where the mysterious girl had disappeared. A smirk tugged at her lips, subtle but satisfied. She pulled out her phone, thumbs moving quickly as she opened her group chat with Megan and Yoonchae.
Sophia: Can anyone call? I just walked into a main character moment and I need witnesses.
She stayed where she was, phone still in her hand, screen glowing as she waited for it to ring — eyes flicking once more toward the doorway, half-expecting the sound of a guitar to start up again.
The replies came immediately.
Megan: Explain. Now.
Yoonchae: Sophia what did you do
Before she could type back, her phone started buzzing in her hand. She answered it without hesitation.
“Okay,” Sophia said, lowering her voice as she leaned against the desk, “I need you both to listen very carefully."
“Oh no,” Megan said. “I was leaving campus,” Sophia continued, “being productive, responsible—”
“Liar,” Megan cut in.
“—and I hear this insane electric guitar riff,” Sophia went on. “Like, objectively good. Not ‘student band’ good. Good good.” Yoonchae hummed thoughtfully. “Okay. Go on.”
"She’s in the music wing. Back turned. Doesn’t even notice me,” Sophia said. “I compliment her, she says ‘I know.’” Megan burst out laughing. “Oh she’s evil.”
“And,” Sophia added, pausing for effect, “she’s hot.”
Silence.
Yoonchae inhaled sharply. “Oh.” Megan groaned. “Of course she is.”
“White shirt, baggy jeans, rude in a way that felt personal,” Sophia said. “Packed up her guitar like I was background noise and walked out.”
“So what you’re saying,” Megan said slowly, “is that you just met your downfall.”
“I’m saying,” Sophia replied, glancing once more at the empty doorway, “I don’t even know her name.”
“That’s worse,” Yoonchae said.
“That’s tragic,” Megan corrected. Sophia smiled to herself. “I’ll survive.” Neither of them sounded convinced.
----
Two days later, the study lounge was alive in the quiet, stressed way that only finals season always brought with it. Pages flipped, keyboards clicked, half-empty coffee cups crowded the tables. Sophia sat with Megan and Yoonchae near the windows, textbooks spread out neatly in front of her. Megan was mid-complaint about a practice exam when Sophia’s attention drifted. It wasn’t intentional at first — just a shift, a pause. Then her gaze settled across the room.
The same dark curls. The same unbothered posture. Clear glasses perched low on her nose now, softening her features just enough to make Sophia’s mouth curve into a small, private smile.
She didn’t say anything.
Megan noticed anyway. “Why are you smiling like that.” Sophia looked back down at her notes, unhurried. “Like what?” Yoonchae followed Megan’s line of sight, then stilled. “Oh.” Megan leaned forward. “Oh.” Sophia finally glanced up again, calm as ever. “Don’t,” she warned lightly. “Absolutely not,” Megan said, already grinning. “That’s her.” Yoonchae nodded slowly. “That’s definitely her.”
Across the room, the girl set her bag down and opened her laptop, unaware she’d just been recognized. Sophia returned to her notes, the smile lingering longer than she meant it to.
Guitarist POV:
The guitarist claimed a desk near the back, dropping into the chair with practiced ease. She adjusted the clear frames perched on her nose and powered on the computer, fingers drumming impatiently against the desk as the screen flickered to life. Her gaze wandered the room, skimming faces without interest — until it didn’t.
She paused.
Long, dark hair. Straight. Familiar in a way that tugged at something she hadn’t meant to remember. She leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing behind the lenses as she studied the profile more closely. A beat passed. Then she scoffed under her breath, a quiet, disbelieving sound, as if the room itself had decided to play a joke on her.
Of all people.
She rolled her eyes and turned back to the computer, her expression flattening as her fingers reached for the keyboard. The familiar rhythm of logging in grounded her, something mechanical to focus on, but her jaw tightened all the same. Whatever that was, she didn’t have time for it. As the computer processed her login, she reached into the side pocket of her bag and pulled out a water bottle, twisting the cap loose before taking a slow sip. She set it down beside the keyboard with deliberate care, then checked her watch. One quick swipe, a quiet vibration — an hour. Enough time to get something done, if she kept her focus where it belonged.
The document loaded, blank and waiting. She stared at it for a moment longer than necessary before placing her hands back on the keyboard. The first few lines came easily — practised, efficient — her fingers moving with the same precision she used on strings. Still, her attention tugged elsewhere, an unwelcome pull she refused to acknowledge.
Her eyes flicked up despite herself.
The girl was still there. Head bent over her notes, pen moving steadily, expression caught somewhere between concentration and quiet confidence. It annoyed her more than it should have. The familiarity. The way recognition lingered like an unfinished chord. She exhaled through her nose and forced her gaze back to the screen, shoulders squaring. Focus. She typed faster this time, each keystroke sharp, purposeful — as if burying herself in the work might drown out everything else.
Sophia had been staring at the same paragraph for longer than she cared to admit when the feeling crept up on her — that unmistakable prickle of being watched. She didn’t look up right away. She finished the sentence she was pretending to read, capped her pen, and only then lifted her gaze toward the back of the study lounge.
Yeah.
Still there.
The guitarist was settled at a computer desk near the rear wall, half-turned toward the screen, glasses catching the light every time she shifted. Closed off. Intentional. Like she’d picked the spot specifically to disappear into. Sophia bit back a smile, tilting her head slightly as she took her in. Interesting how some people could sit at the edge of a room and still command it without trying. She dropped her eyes back to her notes, the corner of her mouth twitching.
Focus, she reminded herself — though she didn’t really mean it.
She stared at her notes for a few moments longer, trying — and failing — to remember what she’d just read. It was hard to regain focus when a hot, beautiful guitarist was sitting a few rows behind her, occupying far more mental space than any textbook had a right to. Sophia was in her own head, halfway between distraction and resignation, when Megan finally broke the silence, muttering something about a question she was stuck on.
Sophia leaned in without hesitation, eyes scanning the page Megan slid toward her. “Okay, see, this one’s trying to scare you,” she said quietly, tapping the margin with her pen. “But it’s actually just asking you to connect the obvious dots and pretend it’s harder than it is.”
Yoonchae hummed in agreement from the other side of the table, flipping her notes around. “That’s what I thought, but then I overthought it.”
“Classic mistake,” Sophia replied lightly. “Overthinking is the enemy of survival. Trust me.”
She smiled, easy and reassuring, but her focus only held for so long. As Megan scribbled something down, Sophia’s gaze drifted again — just for a second — back toward the computer desks at the rear of the room. The guitarist hadn’t moved much, shoulders tense, fingers flying across the keyboard now instead of strings. Sophia looked away before she could be caught, exhaling through her nose.
Unbelievable, she thought. One riff and suddenly finals were optional.
She just couldn’t focus. No matter how hard she tried, her eyes kept drifting — quick, careless glances over her shoulder that she didn’t bother disguising anymore. Every single time, Yoonchae caught her. “Sophia, if you don’t get your ass to focus, I will throw this pencil at your head,” Yoonchae whispered, already lifting it like a weapon. “And I will not miss.”
Sophia didn’t even flinch. “Threatening violence in a study lounge,” she murmured. “Bold strategy.”
Megan hummed in agreement without looking up from her notes. “We know guitar girl is attractive,” she said dryly, flipping a page, “but if you fail your finals over a crush you don’t even have the name of, that’s on you.” Sophia pressed her lips together, fighting a smile as she finally dragged her attention back to the page in front of her — if only for appearances.
About fifteen minutes passed before her focus finally snapped back into place. Once it did, she tore through the math questions with renewed determination, moving faster than a cow on roller skates, flipping the page in record time. The numbers blurred into something manageable again, almost comforting, as if her brain had decided to cooperate at last — if only to prove it still could.
Megan glanced over, eyebrows lifting. “Okay, show-off,” she muttered, nudging Sophia’s page with her pen. “When did you get good at this?”
“Crisis response,” Sophia replied easily. “My brain only works under pressure or mild emotional distress.” Yoonchae snorted, lowering her pencil at last. “So… all the time?”
Sophia grinned but didn’t look up, scribbling the final answer before setting her pen down. For a brief moment, she let herself feel accomplished — grounded again, back in control. Then, without thinking, her gaze drifted once more toward the back of the room. The computer desk was empty. Sophia blinked, scanning the row again just to be sure. Nothing but an abandoned chair and the faint impression of someone who’d been there moments ago.
Huh.
She leaned back slightly, disappointment flickering across her face before she could stop it. Finals, apparently, were not the only thing testing her patience.
Sophia folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, her eyes flicking aimlessly around the lounge before she let out a long, exaggerated groan. “If I see one more equation tonight, I’m actually going to start believing numbers are a social construct,” she muttered, tipping her head back. She glanced at Megan and Yoonchae, unimpressed. “Please tell me we’re close to being done before my brain files a formal complaint.”
Yoonchae barely looked up from her notes. “You say that every time,” she replied flatly, though there was a smile tugging at her lips. “And yet, you’re still alive. Tragically.”
Megan sighed, finally setting her pen down. “We’re almost done,” she said, emphasising almost. “Which means if you start spiralling now, I will personally blame you when we’re here for another hour.”
Sophia rolled her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. “I’m gonna go get a drink from the vending machine,” she said, already pushing her chair back. “You guys want anything, or should I just surprise you with my excellent taste?” Yoonchae looked up immediately. “Something with sugar,” she said without hesitation. “I need motivation, not hydration.” Megan waved a hand vaguely. “Whatever has caffeine and won’t ruin my life,” she replied. “Dealer’s choice.”
Sophia tugged at the waistband of her sweatpants and stood, stretching just enough to feel alive, then started toward the vending machine. The path took her past the bathrooms, a corner of campus she’d never given much thought to. As she neared the machine, she caught the faint sound of a door opening. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a figure stepping out — glasses perched neatly on her nose, dark curls catching the light, moving with that same effortless, unbothered air. Sophia’s eyes flicked to the corner just as the bathroom door opened, and there she was — the same dark curls, clear glasses, calm, precise. On impulse, Sophia called out, “Hey, guitar girl.”
The girl froze mid-step, a sharp intake of breath hidden behind her composed exterior. Her eyebrows knitted slightly, and she turned her head, finally meeting Sophia’s gaze. For a moment, the hallway felt smaller, quieter, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them. Then she straightened, mask sliding back into place, expression unreadable.
“Guitar girl,” she echoed dryly, her voice low, clipped. “Do you always announce yourself like that?”
Sophia grinned, leaning slightly against the vending machine. “Only when it’s necessary,” she replied, playful but not intrusive. “Apparently, it is.”
The woman's eyes flicked away, scanning the corridor like she could vanish into the walls. “Right,” she said, voice flat but not unkind. “Well… carry on, then.”
Sophia raised an eyebrow, amused by the evasive response. “Mysterious, I like it.” And with that, Guitar girl picked up her pace — leaving Sophia both frustrated and fascinated.
The cans clinked against each other as they slid down, and Sophia reached out, catching them with a practiced flick of her wrist. One for Yoonchae, one for Megan, and one for herself — though she allowed herself a small, satisfied glance down the hallway where the mysterious girl had disappeared.
“Mission accomplished,” she muttered under her breath, balancing the drinks carefully in her hands. She still didn’t know her name — not that it made the girl any less distracting. Every movement, every glance from behind those clear glasses, lingered in Sophia’s mind longer than it should have. She turned back toward the lounge, weaving past the scattered students and murmured conversations, already thinking ahead. When would she see her again? And how many more times would she have to endure not knowing the name of the person who’d completely derailed her concentration? For now, though, finals took priority. And Sophia, ever the multitasker, could focus… mostly.
Sophia made her way back into the lounge, balancing the drinks carefully, and her gaze immediately drifted to the girl at the desk near the back. She was back — gone for a moment while Sophia had grabbed her drink, now seated exactly where she had been before, laptop open and fingers poised as if she’d never left.
Daniela didn’t give any reaction to Sophia’s presence — no glance, no acknowledgment, just that faint, composed smile that made her look effortlessly in control of everything around her.
Megan and Yoonchae were still mid-conversation, completely oblivious to the subtle shift in Sophia’s attention.
Sophia set the drinks down with a soft clink and returned to her notes, flipping through the remaining math questions at her usual lightning pace. She could handle the work with ease — formulas, calculations, everything fell into place — but her mind kept straying, her eyes flicking back toward the back of the lounge every few seconds.
Even though she was perfectly capable of finishing the problems without effort, the presence of the girl she still didn’t know the name of made it impossible to focus entirely. She sighed, smirking to herself. Some distractions were worth it.
Megan finally had enough. “Okay, that’s it. We are done here,” she announced, snapping her notebook shut and starting to pack her stuff. Yoonchae followed suit, tossing her pen into her bag with a grin. Sophia raised an eyebrow, balancing the drinks in her hands. “Why the sudden change of heart? Don’t we still have fifteen minutes left?”
Megan shot her a pointed look. “Yeah, we did, until you spent the last five staring at someone who isn’t even part of this study session.”
Yoonchae laughed. “Exactly. We’re done. Finals aren’t going anywhere, but apparently your attention span is.”
Sophia pressed her lips together, smirking slightly as her eyes flicked back to the girl at the back of the lounge — calm, unreadable, and completely oblivious to the chaos she had just caused. “It’s purely academic,” Sophia murmured. “Totally professional.”
Megan groaned. “Keep telling yourself that, genius.”
Sophia chuckled to herself as she zipped her bag shut, falling into step beside Megan and Yoonchae as they left the lounge. Whatever plan Megan had clearly didn’t need to happen here. They didn’t say much on the walk — just the quiet hum of campus at night, finals energy still lingering in the air. By the time they reached Megan’s dorm, the tension had shifted from academic exhaustion to something lighter, more conspiratorial.
The three of them sank into Megan’s dorm, tossing backpacks aside and immediately pulling out their phones. For a few minutes, there was only the quiet tapping of screens and the occasional frustrated sigh.
Sophia scrolled through campus pages and club posts, her eyes flicking at every photo, every post, trying to pick out the familiar dark curls or the glasses she’d seen before. Megan was doing the same, muttering under her breath whenever she found something slightly promising, while Yoonchae leaned back in the desk chair, swiping absently but keeping one eye on the other two.
After a solid five minutes of individual scrolling, Megan finally groaned. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” she said, tossing her phone onto the bed. “We need to focus. All of us on one phone. It’s the only way we’re going to figure this out without accidentally missing something.”
Sophia raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You mean… consolidate our obsessive powers?”
“Exactly,” Megan replied, grinning. “Teamwork makes the dream work.” Yoonchae laughed, leaning forward. “Fine. But if anyone touches the wrong button, I’m blaming you, Sophia.” Sophia just grinned, already leaning in as Megan handed over her phone. For once, finals didn’t matter — the hunt for the mysterious guitarist had taken over completely.
Sophia grabbed the phone, balancing it carefully on her knees as Megan and Yoonchae hovered over her shoulders. Their fingers pointed at every post, every campus event photo, every tagged image — a shared obsession that made the three of them lean in closer and closer.
“Wait, zoom in there,” Megan muttered, nudging Sophia’s side. “That’s… maybe her hair? I swear that’s the curl pattern.”
Yoonchae snorted. “You’re reading too much into a blurry photo. But fine, zoom in. I want proof.”
Sophia’s fingers moved deftly, enlarging the image, scanning every detail she could remember — the glasses, the way she carried herself, the subtle posture that somehow seemed unmistakable. “Yep,” she whispered, almost to herself. “That’s her. That’s definitely her.” Megan leaned closer, excitement flashing in her eyes. “Ohhh, now we’re cooking. One more post like this and we’ll have a lead.”
Yoonchae rolled her chair forward. “Team Obsessive is officially in full effect.”
Sophia grinned, holding the phone slightly higher so all three could see. For the first time since noticing the girl in the lounge, she felt like they might actually get somewhere — a name, a clue, anything that could make the mysterious guitarist a little less untouchable. And just like that, the dorm room was filled with quiet murmurs, excited whispers, and the soft glow of the phone screen — a little world entirely devoted to finding someone who didn’t even know she was being watched.
Sophia held Megan’s phone carefully on her knees, fingers hovering over the screen as she glanced at the other two. “Wait,” she said, pausing mid-scroll. “We’re going about this the wrong way. If she’s in the music lounge all the time… maybe she’s part of the band or some music club.”
Megan tilted her head. “Okay… so?”
“So,” Sophia continued, excitement creeping into her voice, “the school’s music account — the one that posts concerts, club updates, rehearsals — that’s probably where we’ll find her. Whoever runs it might have photos of her, or at least tagged her in something.” Yoonchae leaned in, smirking. “Oh, of course. The one place we hadn’t thought of yet. Genius.” Megan flipped the phone toward Sophia. “Go ahead. Lead the way, Captain Obsessive.”
Sophia grinned, opening the school music account and scrolling through recent posts, carefully inspecting every rehearsal snapshot, every group photo, every blurred background that might show a familiar face.
“Look at this one,” Megan said suddenly, pointing. “That’s the music lounge in the background… and—wait—is that a guitar strap over someone’s shoulder?”
Sophia leaned closer, zooming in. Her heart gave a small jump. The posture, the dark curls, the subtle tilt of the head — all unmistakable. “Yep,” she breathed, almost to herself. “That’s definitely her.”
Yoonchae whistled softly. “Okay, Team Obsessive is officially on the right track.”
The three of them huddled closer to the screen, the dorm buzzing quietly with energy as they scrolled through every post, every clue, feeling closer than ever to unravelling the mystery of the girl in the lounge.
Sophia scrolled through one more post on the school’s music account, her eyes narrowing at a brightly lit photo from a recent rehearsal. The caption read: “Meet our main guitarist, Daniela! Killer riffs and unmatched energy—so glad she’s part of the band!”
Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze fixed on the girl in the photo — the dark curls, the clear glasses, the same confident posture she’d seen in the lounge.
Without thinking, she whispered, almost under her breath, “Daniela.”
Megan and Yoonchae leaned closer, eyes wide, but Sophia didn’t need to say more. The name hung in the air, charged with excitement and just a touch of disbelief.
And just like that, the mystery finally had a name.
