Chapter 15: Lost

Shannon's POV

After weeks of assiduous studying due to our ceaseless exams and school requirements, I can now finally work on my blog. Last week, I was so busy reviewing for our midterm examination that I wasn't able to draw a new Through the Looking Glass content.

I am here at Zac's apartment sketching on my new canvas in one of his rooms that I converted into my art studio. I planned to go home to Messier 69 to visit my sister, but I guess today is not the day since it's raining dogs and cats right now.

I get up from my seat and walk towards the kitchen to get myself a mug of coffee since the cold is starting to bother me. I put the coffee beans on the container and waited for the espresso machine to brew my drink. While waiting, I shift my eyes to the fogged glass wall of the living space.

It's been raining since yesterday night and it seems like there's a typhoon entering our country. This weather is perfect to lay back and relax inside your home. Fortunately, I have no classes today since it's Sunday. However, I feel bad for those who have school and work scheduled today, there's no doubt that the rain will make commuting difficult for them.

Beep!

I avert my attention to the espresso machine and discover that my coffee is done. I slowly pour energizing and deliciously bitter liquid into my mug. The relaxing aroma of the coffee beans immediately infiltrate my nose. I blow on the coffee lightly and let myself savor the classic scent of joe.

After getting myself a plate of cinnamon rolls, I head back to my studio and continue on drawing my illustration. I feel like the nearly inaudible sound of rain in the room helps set the atmosphere and motivates me to be more creative.

I lift the paper in front of the lamp to clearly see my work. I am already halfway done with my sketch, I just want to identify if there are still any missing details I can add.

The illustration shows the true nature of the modern day heroes, commonly known as the police, that most people admire and look up to. It depicts the devious and fraudulent shining title behind the men whose bravery have lost its sense of rectitude, the men who are supposed to be the ones responsible for the safety and protection of the citizens.

This artwork was inspired by the current issue of police brutality from the country of Gereo. I learned yesterday from my social media account that the iniquity of their law enforcements is raising fear of abuse and contempt within the Gereonian people. The blatant discrimination, abuse of power, and wrongfully siding to those of within higher ranks are only few of the problems the country is facing right now.

I am showing my support and strengthening my stand by fighting against the inhumane treatment of those officers. I realized that even though every country has its own set of culture and traditions, we are still facing the same situation, same issues, and fighting for the same cause. The battle against the tyranny of despicable higher ranks is a fight wherein we will be stronger if we are united and helping each other, for a better world not only for us but also for the future generations.

I continued drawing until I felt drowsiness creep in. The mellow sound of the raindrops is like a lullaby to my ears. The coffee that's supposed to keep me awake has failed its job, so I decided to continue the artwork tomorrow. I turn off the lampshade and somnolently trudge out of the studio to go inside my room.

I was awakened by the sound of clatters coming from the kitchen. How long was I asleep? I sleepily exit my room to check what's the racket all about.

The delicious smell of food awakens the beast inside my stomach, it makes a soft rumbling sound when I enter the kitchen. "Good evening, I'm cooking my dinner. Have you already eaten?" Zac asks me.

I shake my head and close the distance between us to look over the food that he's preparing right now. I almost drool upon seeing the chicken that is being sauteéd in the pan, together with the garlic and mushrooms.

"You can cook," I blurt out. It's not a question, rather a statement.

He smirks at me in response. "Of course I can, we don't have a cook in the hub. Why? Don't tell me you can't cook?"

"Of course I can!" I scoff.

"So, do you know what I'm cooking?"

"Well, based on my observation. It's a pasta dish. I don't know much about luxurious cuisine but I can cook," I say proudly.

"Come here then, I'll teach you how to cook this dish," he grins.

I march towards his side and watch him season the relatively cooked boneless chicken. He adds heavy cream and stirs it continuously. "I get it now," I remark before slowly walking towards the bar stool. Watching the food be cooked slowly tortures me, so I just settle myself on the bar stool and watch him flawlessly finish the dish.

I observe his every movement and can't help but be amazed at how refined and ladylike he is. How can a guy be so graceful? I suddenly become self-conscious, I'm well aware of my strong affinity to the gods of clumsiness. I can't believe that a tall and well built guy can be like this. Zac must be around six feet tall, or maybe more. He has this short chestnut hair that perfectly frames his chiseled face.

I notice how his muscles flex upon grating the cheese on the top of the pasta. I avert my gaze and wait for him to serve the chicken fettuccine. After the day we rescued his friend, Wyn, we simply had gotten closer.

"The meal is ready," he announces and lissomely places the platter on the table.

"Looks like you're a great cook." I look at the perfectly plated pasta in front of me.

"I am indeed," he proudly says as he sits across me.

"What about your family house? I'm sure you have a professional chef there," I say as I stare at his amber eyes that were set elegantly within their sockets. His smooth skin delightfully complements his high cheekbones.

He puts some pasta on a plate and offers it to me, which I gladly accept. I murmured my thanks and began to eat. "Yeah, sure we have." He proceeds to serve himself a plate of his creation.

It's actually my first time dining with someone in this house ever since I lived here. Milly, because of countless reasons, haven't visited me here yet, not even once. I understand though, I know that we are really busy this month.

"Then why are you here?"

He looks at me but stays silent. Maybe that was uncharted territory and he didn't want to talk about it. I didn't pester him further and we continue to eat silently.

"Thanks for the dinner. It's good," I say after eating.

He just nods and walks away. My eyes follow him until he reaches his room and disappears inside it. I sigh. Maybe he has his own problems too.

--

I am hastily walking to my next class. Damn, I officially hate Wednesdays. Four of my classes are spread throughout different buildings and I have to carry this ridiculously huge portfolio all the while. What a hassle!

Milly is panting behind me while trying to catch up. "Wait for me, Rei!" she says in ragged breaths.

"Walk faster!" We are almost on our floor now, but we only have a minute before our class starts.

We should note to ourselves to refrain from buying anything at the canteen again, especially since we only had 15 minutes for our break. If we didn't waste our time on that line just to buy her yogurt then maybe we are already calmly seating on our designated chairs right now, waiting for our professor to start his lecture.

Thankfully, we arrived just on time. I was trying to calm my breathing when I saw our classmates looking sobersided while talking to each other. Since we are late, we are also behind with today's tittle-tattle.

"What are they talking about?" Milly asks.

I just shrug since I'm also unaware of causings of this mild altercation. Milly, however, fails to restrain her curiosity and walks towards our classmates to inquire about the issue that's alien to us.

I let my bestfriend join the gossip and just busy myself on getting my book from my bag. I am browsing the contents of my tote for my module but I find a terrifying discovery instead.

Something is missing from my sketchpad.

I hurriedly fish out my sketchpad to confirm that it is indeed missing. It was. How could it be? Did I forget it at the studio? But I swear I stuck it in between the pages of my sketchpad before going to the canteen a while ago. Shit! Where is it?! Did I lose it? No way! There's no way I could've… Right?

"Rei! Do you know the trending topic on the Oasis right now?" Milly asks.

I ignore her question and continue to rummage through my bag. My problem at hand is far more important than some mere gossip roaming on the Oasis. I am starting to get really queasy now.

"Hey, Rei! Are you listening to me? This is interesting!"

"What?" I say absentmindedly just to satisfy her. I briskly place all the things inside my bag on top of the table, but the paper is still nowhere to be seen. I'm definitely sure that I didn't bring out my sketchpad a while ago, so how?

"So, the fourth years saw this paper in the hallway of the Athena building. And guess what the paper contains?" she excitedly says.

"Hmm... What?" I say, uninterested.

"The signature of Alice from Through the Looking Glass!"

No, it cannot be... Don't tell me...

"We think it's a draft sketch illustration for the next content update of the blog! Isn't it amazing?!"

My eyes widen upon her "amazing" revelation. The anxiety I'm feeling only skyrocketed. I can't believe it. How can that be?

"Th-the what?" I ask, full of disbelief.

"Everyone thinks that Alice is a student of Huxley University. Look! A lot of theories are hovering over the Oasis now."

She gives me her phone and I quickly grab it to look closely on the trending list of the website. Shit! It is real, it is the top trending topic right now. I clicked it and there I saw, in all it's unfinished glory, the picture of my illustration along with some speculations regarding the identity of the real Alice.

"It's such a surprise right? I wonder who he is."

I dazely nod in agreement. It is indeed a surprise. A horrifying one at that. I hide behind a smile the immense shock and nervousness that is flooding my system while also trying to quell the uneasiness in my gut.

I. Am. Doomed.