Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit

Chapter 64 - Sick of Love

Chapter 64 - Sick of Love

Nobody has ever brought up what happened on that karaoke night. It was as if we all silently agreed to bury it in the depths of our collective embarrassment. By Sunday, our group chat had become a ghost town—no jokes, no memes, not even a simple "good morning." 

Maybe we were all too mortified to bring it up. Or maybe the upcoming exams had stolen what little energy we had left, leaving us buried under notes and textbooks.

The next week was midterms—a dreaded period of gloom and monotony. Written examinations filled the days with endless scribbling, erasures, and the rhythmic tapping of pens against desks. The usual energy of Orbital Tech was snuffed out; even the livelier students had succumbed to the weight of academia. Mornings were met with groggy faces as students shuffled to school like programmed drones. 

Afternoons were spent huddled in the library, forming study groups that whispered and scribbled away like conspirators. Even Neil and Remuel, who were rarely known for taking school seriously, had straightened up and buried their noses in books.

Nothing exciting happened that week. Nothing at all.

Well, maybe except for the last day of exams. Neil, who was usually the first to crack jokes or slack off during study sessions, was strangely absent from our group in the library that day. I'd also noticed he made a beeline for home right after our History exam, looking uncharacteristically pale and distant.

"Where's Neil?" Dianca asked, her brows furrowing as she flipped through her notes.

"Um, he said he wasn't feeling well," Fei answered nervously, her fingers tangling in her long black hair. "Something about his stomach acting up."

"Let's hope he catches up on the readings on his own," Remuel said, shrugging nonchalantly as he adjusted his glasses. Note: Remuel only wore those glasses just to look smart, but he's still dumb as a brick.

And that was that. Our study session carried on, as uneventful as the week itself. Nothing noteworthy. Just the quiet murmur of voices, the scratching of pens on paper, and the occasional yawn breaking the silence.

But then, at around ten that evening, just when I'd finally given my frazzled brain a break with some funny racist videos, something peculiar happened. Neil left our group chat. No warning, no explanation. Just gone.

The chat, already quiet from a week of exam stress, seemed even emptier without him. I scrolled through our previous conversations, noticing the mundane chatter from earlier that day: Myrrh setting up the study session venue so Dianca could join us, a few jokes sprinkled here and there. But now? Only silence, and the strange, lingering question of why Neil left without a word.

It was a mystery why Neil left the group chat so abruptly. My mind buzzed with curiosity, but before I could even process the situation further, my phone vibrated. It was Myrrh.

Myrrh: Hey, have you checked up on Neil?
Myrrh: Why did he leave our group chat?

Her messages came in rapid succession, each one sharper than the last.

Me: Beats me. I'll try to contact him.

Myrrh: I already sent him a message, but he just left it at "seen." The audacity of that lowlife!
Myrrh: Do you know how many people would go head over heels just to beg me to send them a message? And here he is, not even bothering to reply!
Myrrh: Anyway, you should check on Neil. Something feels off.

I couldn't help but smirk as I read her flurry of indignation. Myrrh's blend of vanity and concern was oddly endearing, and it gave me an idea. A small prank wouldn't hurt, right?