Where the Cloud Drifts (REVISED Ver.)

CHAPTER THREE: College Confession

HER

~*~
Flashback

The silence wrapped around me, thick and heavy, like a blanket soaked in water. I'd left the noise of the others behind—the clink of glasses, laughter that sounded too carefree, too happy.

But here, away from them, the quiet wasn't the relief I'd hoped for. It echoed with the things I couldn't say, the feelings I didn't know how to let out.

I pulled my knees to my chest, perching at the pool's edge, letting my feet dangle into the water. The cold seeped into my skin, grounding me in the present moment, but it wasn't enough to drown out the chaos in my mind.

Aron Drean. Always him... Drean. AD

I bit my lip, hard enough to sting, but the physical pain didn't compare to the ache inside.

Why him? Why couldn't I just let go? He was right there, close enough to touch, but always just out of reach. Like some cruel game where the prize is dangled in front of you, only to be snatched away at the last second.

I know you too well.

"Ang tagal naman ng alak, AC!" Eya shouted, her voice cutting through the soft hum of conversation. Our resident bartender, Eya, had a talent for keeping people in their seats—no one left sober, and no secrets stayed hidden for long.

"Saglit lang, ikaw na bumili," I teased, grabbing the bottle from my car, the cold glass slick against my hand.

We were at a private resort, only a few of us were allowed to stay for night swimming. The others had already turned in, exhausted from the day's activities.

And yes, he was here too. Drean.

I'm AC, and he's AD. A coincidence? Maybe. Or perhaps, in some past life, we were soulmates, our fates intertwined in a way that still makes no sense.

We set the table, food first—always a buffer to keep our stomachs steady before the drinking began.

Only a handful of us were there: Mae, Rose, Joy, Eya, Vince, Neki, Iza, Shane—and, of course, Drean.

In our class, the "smart group" stood out: Rose, Joy, Iza, Shane, and Drean. He's the genius among us, a walking dictionary with the brains to back it up.

His intellectual capacity makes mine seem... so small. I'm just average—lazy, unremarkable.

He's way out of my league. Out of my league.

"Ang tanga ko," I whispered to no one. The water shimmered beneath me, reflecting the distant stars, but it only made me feel smaller, more insignificant.

I could still see him in my mind, the way he smiled earlier, casual, effortless—like my feelings didn't matter.

Like I didn't matter. And maybe I didn't, not to him. Not the way I wanted to.

The alcohol had made it easier earlier, numbing the sharp edges of rejection, letting me joke about it. But now, in the quiet, the truth was too loud to ignore.

"I can't keep doing this," I muttered to myself, wiping away the tears with the back of my hand, but they kept coming.

How many times had I told myself to let him go?

To stop hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'd finally see me, really see me? And yet, here I was again, caught in the same cycle, unable to break free.

Maybe it's not him, I thought bitterly. Maybe it's me.