Age of zombies

[2] Mob mentality

After hanging out with the guys for a bit longer, I decided to grab a coffee before heading to my psychology class. I always needed caffeine to get through Professor Martinez's lectures—dude was interesting enough, but his voice had this way of droning on, especially after lunch.

The campus Starbucks was packed as usual. I slid into line, checking my phone, and glanced up at the counter. Yabe was working the register today, looking as shy and quiet as ever. Her white hair, smooth and silky, was pulled into a loose ponytail. She looked up and caught my eye, then gave me a small, awkward smile before quickly looking back down at the register.

"Yo, Kohai," I said as I approached the counter, smiling a little.

She blushed, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "S-Senpai... um, how's it going?"

"Not bad," I shrugged, leaning against the counter. "Just surviving, you know? The usual. How's it going for you?"

"Busy," she murmured, avoiding eye contact. "Everyone seems to want coffee all the time."

"Yeah, well, can't blame them. Life sucks without caffeine."

Yabe chuckled softly, her nervousness easing just a bit. "W-What can I get you today, Senpai?"

"Uh, let's go with a caramel macchiato. Grande. Gotta stay awake for my psychology class, or I'm gonna pass out in the middle of it."

She nodded, typing in the order. "Professor Martinez, right? He... he talks about some interesting stuff."

"You taking his class too?"

"Y-Yeah. I mean, I'm not in your section, but I'm taking it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, maybe we can study together sometime. You know, since you're my kohai and all."

Yabe blushed again, her hands fidgeting nervously as she handed me the receipt. "I-I'd like that, Senpai."

I smiled, trying not to be too obvious about how cute she looked when she got flustered. "Cool. Let me know when you're free."

She nodded quickly, and I stepped aside to wait for my drink. I could feel her glancing over at me every few seconds, and I couldn't help but smirk to myself. Yabe was so shy, but there was something kind of sweet about it.

A few minutes later, she called out my name, "Jake," and I grabbed my drink from the counter.

"Thanks, Kohai," I said, giving her a wink before heading out the door.

She looked like she was about to die from embarrassment, but she smiled back anyway.

***

The walk to class wasn't too bad. The sun was shining, and the campus was bustling with students going about their day. I sipped on my caramel macchiato, mentally preparing myself for Professor Martinez's lecture. Mob mentality, he'd said on the syllabus. Should be interesting enough.

I slid into my usual seat near the back of the lecture hall just as the professor started talking. Martinez was a wiry guy in his late 40s, glasses perched on his nose, and always dressed like he just came out of a business meeting—button-up shirt, tie, and dress shoes. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who'd be teaching psych, but whatever, he knew his shit.

"All right, class," Martinez began, pacing in front of the projector screen. "Today, we're going to talk about mob mentality and groupthink. How do rational individuals suddenly lose their sense of self in a crowd? How do people end up doing things they never thought they were capable of?"

A few people murmured, and I slouched down in my seat, taking another sip of my coffee. This was gonna be good. I could already tell.

"Let's start with a basic example," he continued. "Imagine you're at a concert. Everyone around you is cheering, screaming, jumping up and down. Now, normally, you're not the type to scream or jump around like an idiot, right?"

A few people chuckled. He had a point.

"But in that moment," Martinez went on, "you find yourself doing exactly what everyone else is doing. Why? Why do you lose yourself in the crowd?"

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. It was true, though. I'd seen it happen—hell, it had happened to me. I'd been at enough events where you just go along with the flow because everyone else is. You don't want to be the odd one out.

"Mob mentality," Martinez said, pacing again. "It's all about the power of the group. When we're in a crowd, we lose our individuality. We become part of something bigger, something almost primal. And that's when things can get dangerous."

He clicked a button, and a picture of a riot appeared on the screen. People were smashing windows, lighting shit on fire, going absolutely nuts.

"This," Martinez said, pointing to the screen, "is the darker side of mob mentality. Rational people, people who would never do this on their own, suddenly find themselves caught up in the chaos. They see others doing it, and they think, 'Well, if they're doing it, why can't I?'"

"Is it really that simple?" some girl in the front row asked. "I mean, people have morals, right?"

Martinez smiled, but it wasn't a nice smile. More like the kind you give when you're about to drop a truth bomb. "Sure, people have morals. But in a mob, those morals get overridden by the collective energy. It's like being drunk—you're not fully in control. You might wake up the next day and wonder what the hell you were thinking, but in the moment, you're swept up in it."

"So, what stops people from, like, killing each other?" some guy behind me asked.

Martinez paused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Good question. And the answer is... nothing, really. If the conditions are right, if the mob's anger reaches a certain level, people will kill each other. It's happened throughout history—look at any major riot or revolution. People who would never dream of murder suddenly find themselves capable of horrific things."

I felt a chill run down my spine. It was fucking creepy, but he wasn't wrong. History was full of examples of mob violence—people doing shit they'd never do if they weren't part of a crowd. And it made me wonder... if the world ever went to hell, if things really broke down, how many of us would turn into monsters?

"Now," Martinez said, bringing up another slide, this time of a peaceful protest. "Not every group turns violent. Sometimes, the group's energy is channeled into positive change. But even then, the individuals involved lose a part of their identity—they become part of the cause, part of the movement."

He looked around the room, his eyes locking on each of us like he was trying to read our minds. "The next time you find yourself in a crowd, ask yourself—am I thinking for myself, or am I just going along with everyone else? It's a fine line, but it's one that can mean the difference between peace and chaos."

I leaned back in my seat, letting his words sink in. Mob mentality. The loss of self. It all felt a little too relevant these days. I glanced around the room, wondering if any of these people would be the type to lose themselves in a mob. Hell, would I be that type?

Before I could think too much about it, the bell rang, snapping me back to reality.

"See you all next time," Martinez said, gathering his papers. "And remember—stay aware of the crowd."

Q: Have you ever been caught up in mob mentality before?