GLACIER TRUCE

ACME UNIVERSITY CAFETERIA•••••••

The cafeteria buzzed with noise, trays clattering, students laughing over plates of food, the smell of fried chicken and coffee weaving through the air. Phones chimed across the room at the same time-everyone receiving the same notification.

"ACME UNIVERSITY WELCOME PARTY – Tonight at 9PM. Attendance is mandatory." A wave of murmurs swept the tables. At one corner, Erica sat with her friends-Camille and Nora. Erica leaned across the table, her eyes bright. "So... who's going shopping with me? I'm not stepping into that party in last week's outfit." Camille gasped like it was life or death. "Shopping? Count me in. My closet is crying for mercy." Nora smirked, stabbing her fork into her salad. "Your closet is crying because you stuff it with things you wear once and forget about." Erica sighed but smiled, adjusting her glasses. "Still... she's not wrong. If this is the official welcome party, everyone's going to bring their best. We should look sharp." Camille clapped her hands, grinning. "Yes! That's the spirit. We'll go after class. Shoes, dresses, accessories-the whole thing." At that moment, Venetta slid into the empty seat beside them, balancing a tray with grilled fish and rice. She placed it down gently, already half-distracted by her phone. "Venettaaa," Erica said dragging her name. "You're coming with us, right? Party prep?" Venetta only gave a small nod, still scrolling on her screen. Erica narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're awfully quiet. You are not even sniffing. What's got you so locked into that phone? Don't tell me..." She leaned forward dramatically. "You got yourself a boyfriend?" Venetta rolled her eyes, stabbing a piece of fish. "Please. Don't start." Camille gasped and smacked the table. "She's blushing!" "I am not," Venetta muttered, though her ears warmed just slightly. Nora leaned back in her chair, smirking. "So what's his name. You aren't even denying" Venetta sighed, finally lowering her phone. "He's just... someone I met online." That made the table go still for a second. Camille raised her brows. "Wait-you mean you've never actually met him?" "Nope," Venetta replied simply, spearing another bite of rice. Nora leaned forward, wide-eyed. "Okay, but... have you at least seen his picture? Like video call, or selfie, or something?" Venetta shook her head. "Nope. He hasn't seen mine either." Nora burst out laughing. "So you're just talking to a ghost. For all you know, he's a seventy-year-old uncle with three teeth." Venetta gave her the deadpan look she always reserved for Nora's jokes. "Funny." Erica tilted her head. "Then why keep talking to him? If you don't even know what he looks like?" For the first time, Venetta hesitated, eyes dropping to her phone again. "Because... I don't know. It feels different. He doesn't push, doesn't brag. He just... listens." The table fell quieter than before. "Does he know you sniff" Erica asked "No. He doesn't push" Nora rolled her eyes but smirked anyway. "He sure won't. Not until he shows up and he's bald, toothless, and four feet tall." Camille squealed, smacking Nora's arm. " Don't ruin the vibe!" Erica grinned, reaching across to nudge Venetta's arm. "Well, mystery man or not, you're coming shopping with us." Venetta allowed the faintest smile, shaking her head. "You girls are ridiculous".

The cafeteria was loud with chatter and clinking trays, but when Jazzlyn stepped through the doors, no one really noticed. She liked it that way. Her oversized headphones sat snugly over her head, drowning out the noise with her playlist. Dressed in a cropped top, a short skirt, and boots that hugged her legs, she looked effortlessly put together-yet she moved with the air of someone who didn't want eyes on her. Head slightly bowed, she went straight to the counter. "Spicy chicken wings. Extra fries. And a Coke," she said simply. The cashier nodded quickly, sliding the tray over without a word. Jazzlyn didn't linger. She balanced the tray with one hand, grabbed a wing with the other, and walked right back out-just as quietly as she had come in. She preferred walking while she ate. Sitting around tables, making small talk-that wasn't her. The hallway was her peace. Boots clicking softly, she moved between classrooms, nibbling on fries, sipping her drink, letting the music keep her company. Until she turned into one of the quieter hallways. There, leaning against the wall, was Glacier. He didn't see her at first. His back was turned, one hand holding a cigarette as he used the other hand to paint canvas. For a heartbeat, Jazzlyn slowed her steps. He looked-calm. Collected. Alone. Too much like herself. But then the irritation hit her chest. This fool almost dragged me into trouble yesterday. She took another bite of her wing, sharper than necessary. As if sensing her, Glacier turned his head slightly. Their eyes met. Jazzlyn froze-only for a second-then her glare hardened, cold and sharp. She didn't let it linger. She looked away and walked past him quickly. Behind her, Glacier's lips tilted into a faint smirk. A drag of smoke. A tap of ash. And then, without a word, his attention went right back to his paintings.