Michael (5)

As the pair of men ambled along the vibrant corridor within the esteemed university, the vivacious banter of Michael's companion enveloped his auditory senses. His friend's eyes remained fixated on the screen of his mobile device, captivated by the humorous images and memes displayed.

Their spirited discourse pirouetted through the atmosphere, punctuated by his friend's spontaneous eruptions of mirth that reverberated against the walls, adding to the symphony of voices.

The timeworn linoleum flooring beneath their soles seemed to assimilate the vigor of innumerable footfalls that had traversed the same path in days gone by.

Overhead, the unassuming fluorescence of the lights bathed the throng of diverse visages in a gentle luminescence. An olfactory tapestry of well thumbed textbooks and a medley of personal fragrances interwove, creating a unique and evocative ambiance that permeated the air.

Andrei declared with great enthusiasm, "Michael, imagine if you were given the opportunity to shoot me in excha-"

"Yes," Michael interjected without a moment's hesitation.

Andrei's jaw plummeted, and he came to an abrupt halt. Michael paused as well, pivoting to confront his friend's flabbergasted visage. In a tone dripping with disbelief, Andrei enunciated slowly, "I wasn't finished yet…"

Michael coughed, attempting to clarify his hasty response. "You see, I've come across these memes where you shoot your best friend's palm for a hefty sum of money. Naturally, once you've recovered, we'd split the cash 60-40." He punctuated his explanation with a lighthearted chuckle, hoping to diffuse the tension.

Andrei arched a skeptical eyebrow, his incredulity evident as he asked, "You do consider me your best friend, right?"

Michael patted Andrei's back reassuringly, "Of course you're my best friend, Andrei," before attempting to divert the conversation. "Come on, let's get going or we'll be late."

Andrei, however, wasn't ready to let it go. "You're trying to dodge the topic, aren't you? We still have a few moments to spare."

Michael muttered silently under his breath, 'Tch. How sharp,' before announcing, "Well, then I'll head out first," and commenced his departure.

Andrei quickly followed, pressing the issue further. "Why split the money 60-40, though?"

Michael offered a faint smile as he explained, "Well, I'm the one who's been offered the deal, so there's a 10 percent 'finder's fee' for me."

Andrei heaved a resigned sigh, skillfully steering the conversation in a new direction. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask which character did you choose in the Netorare Game?"

Michael furrowed his brow, trying to recall the character's name. "Vyn Conlard or Cornard? I can't quite remember, but he's the strength based character."

Andrei smirked, not at all surprised. "Ah, just as I predicted."

Curious, Michael inquired, "So, I assume you picked the manipulator character?"

Andrei nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I just want to hurl spells at my enemies and watch them squirm."

Andrei's eyes suddenly bulged, his pupils dilating in sheer terror as if he'd just unearthed a bone chilling memory from the darkest recesses of his mind. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as he stammered, "Mi-Michael."

Michael recoiled, his heart skipping a beat at his friend's petrified reaction. "Wh-What's wrong?"

Andrei's voice quivered with trepidation as he slowly uttered, "Do you have any homework for Calculus? You know, that's our first class now, and our professor is a living embodiment of our worst nightmares."

As Andrei finished speaking, goosebumps erupted on his skin like a thousand tiny volcanoes, and every hair on his body stood on end as if electrified by the sheer horror of their predicament. His spine shivered with a cold dread that seemed to seep into his very soul.

After a few agonizing seconds that felt like an eternity, he muttered a single, despairing word that echoed the doom they both felt, "Fuck."

***

Now they found themselves inside the bustling classroom, where Jonas was already seated, poised and ready to tackle the day. Michael and Andrei scurried over to their friend like two mischievous squirrels, eager to copy his homework before the class commenced.

Just as they were about to settle in, a man with a gleaming, bald head strode into the room, dressed in black pants and a blue polo adorned with intricate patterns.

The professor's voice boomed with authority, "Silence and return to your seats!" He sauntered to the front of the room, his stern gaze following the students as they scrambled back to their assigned spots.

Michael and Andrei ended up seated far apart from each other.

Michael glanced over at his friend Andrei, who gestured for him to look forward. As Michael's gaze shifted to the front of the room, a beam of sunlight caught the professor's bald head, casting a brilliant shimmer across his serious expression.

"Khuf-" Michael couldn't help but stifle a laugh, quickly covering his mouth with his hand. He tilted his head down, trying to hide his amusement from the professor as he let out a series of muffled giggles, "Hif… Khif… Hihihi…"

Sneaking a peek at Andrei, Michael still suppressing his own laughter. Andrei appeared to be holding an imaginary ball, performing some sort of bizarre ritual that resembled a wizard casting a spell.

Abruptly, he stopped, his eyebrows twitching in concentration before he suddenly licked his palm and smacked the imaginary ball, as if that would somehow contain their shared hilarity.

Doing his utmost to suppress his laughter, Michael's face turned a deep shade of crimson as he covered his mouth, barely managing to choke out a muffled, "Hikhikhihkhik…"

Just as he dared to look up, Michael's worst nightmare materialized before him: his notoriously strict professor, towering over him like a menacing storm cloud on the verge of unleashing its fury.

The fearsome professor spoke with unnerving composure, "Stand up."

Michael obeyed, rising to his feet as the professor continued, "What amuses you so, Michael?"

Michael's gaze darted towards Andrei, who was now swiftly engrossed in a notebook, feigning the demeanor of a studious scholar. Michael's eyebrow twitched involuntarily.

Michael responded apologetically, "I must apologize, Professor. I simply cannot seem to shake off the memory of a rather amusing video I encountered earlier this morning."

The Professor scrutinized him before extending his hand and asking, "Homework?"

Michael responded, "I left it at home, Professor."

The Professor retracted his hand, his visage a blend of suppressed rage as he declared, "You're fortunate that you're the rising star of our esteemed basketball team, or I would have failed you already. Now, I suggest you promptly remove yourself from my presence."

Michael acquiesced, responding deferentially, "Thank you, Professor Dave."

As he made his way towards the door, he caught Andrei's furtive glance. With a steely, lifeless gaze, Michael silently vowed, 'I'll get my revenge, my so called best friend,' before departing from the room.