Rush

"And this is very important to-" the talkshow host repeated for the thirteenth time, and it had only been an hour. I could tell that no one was paying attention to what he was rambling on about.

The auditorium was packed with students from varying majors, but there seemed to be more coming from the history branch. "Of course," I thought to myself, rolling my eyes, "the old prof and his weird relationship with coma-inducing things. Should get him anesthetics for his birthday. That would surely be something he likes."

Naya sat- or rather slumped over and sleeping with her head resting on her crossed arms- a couple of rows ahead of me, so while the others had their friends to joke around with to fight off the boredom, I only had myself. The other sleeping students were not too different from Naya, only with different poses. I caught my eyelids drooping over, and I quickly jolted back upright in my seat, no one really caring for they did the same. A louder-than-usual laughter boomed from the speakers surrounding the auditorium, and I could only guess what monotonous pun they said this time.

"Yes, yes, not only is it important for-" Fourteen. I wanted to scream.

I stared down at my table to find my empty notebook and pencil at hand, except for the few doodles of a random tree with abnormally large apples. "What can I even note down," I asked myself. Looking around me, it seems that I was the only one who brought a notebook into the talkshow. "This was supposed to be important, but for what it's worth, it feels like an endless ad break."

Sounds of many heavy footsteps echoed through the hall. It seemed to have caught the attention of a majority of the room, accompanied by a brief pause in all sound. Then, the students' chatting continued, this time louder. Some were woken from their slumber, brushing off the heaviness in their eyes and looking around before proceeding to continue sleeping after they found out they're still alive.

The special guest also noticed the footsteps. He glanced over to his right, where the noise came from.

"Well, well, these people surely are in a rush aren't they? Did the physics department set off a nuclear bomb or something? Hah, that would surely go down in the history books, or at least this university's history, won't it, Dr. Lartet?" he joked, letting a small smile escape. He leaned back against his chair, forearms on the armrests.

"For sure Sir Tahreed, something of that magnitude won't be let alone for a good week. And that's if any of us here managed to survive to tell the tale," my professor replied, nodding to him to show appreciation.

"True," Sir Tahreed said, and they both laughed, their voices magnified three-fold by the speakers. Their heads tilted backward from laughing so hard. Things died down over the course of five minutes. Sir Tahreed and my professor continued discussing about what I guessed was the topic at hand, and the students their personal talks and jokes about whatever came to their heads.

The sleepiness was overpowering my senses, making me feel warm and cozy, similar to the feeling of cuddling next to the open fire during Christmas Eve. My efforts to fight were in vain however, and I found myself in Naya's sleeping position, ready to drift off into the wild world of my dreams. "Only until the closing statements," I murmured silently, "then it's off to the footsteps with Naya."

A sudden wave of clapping hands crashed down onto my ears, startling me. Jumping towards my feet, I followed the crowd. I knocked over my chair, but luckily it was caught by the table behind me. Sir Tahreed was seen waving at the audience, while the audience seemed to have no idea what they were doing except showing him courtesy. As the doors behind him close with an audible clack, my professor said, "Alright, to those that are not majoring in history, please leave the auditorium. To those who major in history, please stay for a while."

The rows of history students, including me, all groaned in unison, hoping our combined voices would convince the professor otherwise. The remaining students left the auditorium in quick succession until the final student clacked the doors shut.

"Now, now," he teased us. I could make out a sneer creeping on his face. "No need for those frowning faces. I know most of you" -he gestured toward us -"were dozing off in your little fantasies while this was going on. So, there'll be a short quiz of a few questions about this seminar. This should be- "he was interrupted by a growing raspy grumble among the students as some of them crossed their arms, pouting and facing downward "-be a mark that is easy to get I'd say, given that anyone paid attention. I'll see you all tomorrow. You're dismissed."

As soon as he said that, streams of students flowed from their seats, flooding and overwhelming the stairs that led to the doors. The professor went back to the stage where his so-called seminar took place and gathered and cleaned up his things, primarily stacks of paper and his plain porcelain coffee mug. I struggled to get up as the flurry of students prevented me to, their bodies sometimes clashing against my table, causing me and the items I had on the table to shake. In the mean time, I gathered my belongings, just as the professor did. Eventually, the last of them went and, I descended the stairs to where Naya sat. She seemed to still be confused, rubbing away the sleepiness from her eyes. A few students still remained asleep, so some went out of their way, like me, to wake them up and tell them about the quiz.

"What?" she yawned, covering her mouth with a book in her hand.

"You heard those footsteps that went by?" I asked, putting my hand on her right shoulder, shaking her lightly.

She put her free hand on mine, her head bobbing back and forth. She let out a sound of confusion, a combination of "uh" and "agh." "Huh? Please, I'm gonna vomit."

I promptly stopped shaking her.

She raspily mumbled for a bit, then asked, "The what?" while holding her forehead against the book she had on her hand, her other hand supporting it.

"C'mon, we gotta see what's going on, or else we'll be labelled outdated by the others." I held a hand to her and helped her stand to her feet.

Confused and dazed, she reluctantly followed, her steps slower than mine. We exited the auditorium and left the doors open for anyone and their friends to leave as well. Turning a couple of turns along the hallway, we found ourselves standing among a huge crowd of people.

Some were dressed in journalist's clothing, holding large luminous ring lights and heavy high-definition cameras. Some were in casual, the people who had been in the recent seminar; and some wore a laboratory gown, looking mildly concerned yet in disbelief. The corridor we were in, in contrast to the amount of people, was narrow and choking the number of people allowed to enter the rooms to its sides.

The area we were in belonged to the science department, because of course it had to be them to get the spotlight. Specifically, it was the area that belonged to the physics department. I gave a quick worried glance to Naya who was still behind me. She was still bewildered and lost regarding the situation, but at the very least she was more awake. A few people were seen wriggling through the sea of journalists to get a first-person view of the major event that was happening, some of the accessories they wore clashing against the ground behind them. I ducked under some of them and managed to grab the dropped earpiece, primarily used by the literature branch. I stashed it in my left pocket. Luckily, everyone was focused on getting closer to the physics laboratory.

It was futile to try and breach the solid wall of people. Through the course of a few minutes, Naya and I were caught in between the journalists and a new layer of people, passers-by and some students who had been recently dismissed elsewhere. The environment was compressed, claustrophobic, and humid, the air heavy in my lungs. Eventually, I could no longer see the hallway that we came from. We were stuck. The cameraman to my right gave a thumbs-up to the reporter in front of him, and he flicked a switch on his massive camera that he carried on his right shoulder. A light on its side turned red. The reporter stared silently at the camera, and then he spoke.

"Yes, good afternoon Alesha. We are here at the physics lab at Reyon University, surrounded by this-" he gestured and took his eyes off the camera, staring directly at me with his mud brown eyes "-onslaught of people, ranging from all over the place." The reporter took a hasty deep breath and continued, "These people, who are a mix of highly-respected physicists and normal people alike, have their intrigue piqued when physics students here announced a breakthrough that seemed too good to be true," he pointed towards where the physics laboratory approximately was, and he slowly said, emphasizing on important syllables, "they have transported a lab rat back in time."

A few millennia had passed since then, and the technology discovered had developed tremendously. It had gotten to the extent that it began incorporating into numerous vehicles. Then, it slowly became the norm in society to possess a vehicle with time-bending abilities. However, bending the laws of physics to allow this to happen was only bound to limitless complications; complications that aroused from various criticisms from the customer's side.