Adib Adib

Most of my high school classmates talked about PUP Sta. Mesa like it was some kind of holy grail. "It's the golden ticket, bro," they'd say. "If you get in, you're set for life." I heard it over and over—the gateway to a better future, the ultimate dream. And yet, while they spent late nights cramming for the PUPCET, stressing over their chances, I couldn't bring myself to care.

Now, here I am, standing outside the gate of PUP Sta. Mesa, CEA building. I stared up at the faded letters spelling out "College of Engineering and Architecture." The irony hit me like a punch in the gut. Life really does have a twisted sense of humor. The others—those who actually wanted this—didn't make it. And me? I didn't even try.

Around me, excited freshmen were buzzing with energy, their voices blending into a low hum of excitement. Some were taking selfies by the entrance, their wide smiles and eager eyes full of hope. Others were rushing past me, bags slung over their shoulders, eyes already glued to their schedules.

"This is it, man!" I overheard a guy say to his friend, his voice practically vibrating with excitement. "We're finally here!"

I clenched my fists, feeling the tension coil in my chest. "Yeah," I muttered under my breath, though no one was listening. "We're finally here."

The truth was, I never wanted to be here. All those nights spent gaming, hanging out with friends—this place had never crossed my mind. But my parents had different plans, and here I was, like a puppet dancing to someone else's tune.

On my first day, the echoes of the senior students' voices from orientation still rattled in my mind. "Mga kapwa ko Iskolar ng Bayan!" they'd shouted with unwavering pride, fists pumping in the air. The words had sent chills down my spine back then, the weight of it sinking in. I remembered the president of the Electrical Engineering student council stepping up to the podium, face serious, almost reverent. "You're part of something special now. PUP isn't just a school—it's a legacy."

But standing in front of the College of Engineering and Architecture building now, all of that pride felt so far away, like a distant memory from someone else's life. I took in the scene—students buzzing around me like bees in a hive. Some looked jittery, eyes scanning their schedules as if afraid they'd already missed something. Others moved with the lazy confidence of people who had done this a hundred times before.

My stomach churned. "This is it," I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

Just as I took a step toward the entrance, a sharp voice cut through my thoughts. "Registration card?"

I froze. The guard's eyes were locked on me, unblinking. For a second, my mind went blank. "Crap, where's my card?" I panicked, fumbling through my bag like it was a bottomless pit. My hands trembled, and my heart pounded louder with each passing second. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck, but I couldn't afford to look like an idiot on the first day.

"Come on, come on," I muttered under my breath, fingers finally grazing my registration card. I pulled it out with shaky hands, forcing a smile. "Here."

The guard barely glanced at it before nodding, but his indifferent expression made my heart race even more. "Go ahead," he said, stepping aside as if nothing had happened.

I exhaled sharply, my muscles unwinding as I passed through the gates. But the momentary relief was quickly replaced by a familiar sense of unease. "What the hell am I doing here?" I thought, glancing around at the sea of faces. They looked so sure of themselves, so ready for what lay ahead. Meanwhile, I felt like a stranger in my own skin, drifting through a place that wasn't supposed to be mine.

As I walked inside, the chaotic hum of students swallowed me whole. Bodies brushed past me as I weaved through the throng, trying not to drown in the unfamiliar sensation creeping up my spine. "Just keep moving," I told myself, clutching my regicard like it was my lifeline. CEA 420—General Chemistry. Fourth floor, I guessed, glancing at the endless staircase in the middle of CEA.