When the entire campus staff went on strike for a day over something to do with the future of their pension scheme, all classes and lectures were cancelled that day. My groupmates and I leveraged this event to meet up at DC 102 room in Alan Gilbert Learning Commons, booked by Andy, one of my groupmates for a brainstorming session and tasks delegation on a business case study assigned to us.

The room was warmed up with Douggie's cynical jokes, in between Andy's overflow of ideas while Elira chipped in. I, on the other hand played a role as their secretary. I rather be the one who recorded all the points that were trashed out on the table and drafted the report. None of them have report writing skills like I have. Besides, too many cooks could spoil the broth.

I looked up from my laptop screen and spotted a tall figure in black wool trench coat, peeking into the room, followed by sudden loud rap from outside. As the door flung open, I noticed the familiar figure sauntering in; Nick Pholadi.

My breath stopped to see the sight of him once more. What kind of outlaw that goes to college? What did he expect coming out of this institution? Money Laundering 101 and how to commercialize white cheese?

"I got this room booked for a quarter to 2.00," Nick flashed the BookedIt app to us from his iPhone with his name booked for DC 102.

"That's weird. I booked this room for the whole day," Andy said baffled.

"Yeah, you must've booked it but not Bookedit," Nick entered the room and surpassed me, as though we never met.

He tossed his Tom Ford duffle bag across the table, swiped away our stationeries off the table before pulling out a chair to sit. "Now beat it and sort your shit out elsewhere!" he demanded.

Reluctantly, we collected our clutters that was scattered on the floor and packed our things. Nick lodged into the chair, lifted his both legs on the edge of the table while watching us scurried off. I sensed something dubious with the booking system, nevertheless I was more agitated to see his face.

I held my stare at Nick in vexation, but he caught my glare with no response except to stare back at me with his eyes shouting, 'Get lost, bitch!'

He didn't remember me at all.

       🍀🌺🌸⭐🍀🌺🌸⭐

I spotted Nick from afar as he ambled out from the Business School entrance towards the smoking area, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter from his left breast pocket. He stuck the cigarette to his lips before lit it and returned the lighter into the pocket. He took a few long, slow draws from the burning cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke, billowing from both his mouth and nose.

My anger from that night's incident hadn't subside so I marched towards him seeking for a payback. He turned to look at me as I drew near and continued to stare at me with calm and composed manner.

"Look, if you are still thick enough to talk about the mix up, don't come to me," he said.

"But you have the guts to do away Abs, haven't you?" I jumped right in without hesitation.

Nick choked from the fag when Abs' name was mentioned but quickly recovered with a bitter laugh, more like a snicker. "What's it to you?"

"Why slit his forearm?" I asked.

Hearing this, Nick narrowed his eyes and give me a once over. "So you're that prick who tries to be the hero for that pussy?"

He took his final draw of fag before tossing the cigarette onto the pavement and rubbed it out with the toe of his leather shoe.

"You have issues with him, you gotta go through me, Nick!" I said curtly.

"Am I supposed to be intimidated by you? Do you have any idea what kind of enemy you might create?" he cocked his head to the side and pulled up the left sleeve of his trench coat revealing more gruesome and disturbing tattoos. It was an image of ripping skin lacerated by a vicious dragon's claw, revealing human flesh with a coil of thorny twigs encircling, penetrating the flesh.

He lowered his head at me, his dangerous penetrating hazel eyes into mine. He paced a few steps forward, causing me to move a few steps back.

For a moment, I was aware that I'm facing one of the county's notorious outlaws and going against him could mean sticking my neck out for Abs which I slowly regret. But my other conscience told me that if I don't, I inadvertently allowed Nick to bully others for his supper.

"For all it's worth, without your bodyguard, you're nothing more than just a python. The one without a venom," I braved an answer, lifting my index finger, jabbing his left breast pocket.

"Bite me!" he recoiled and struck me by the shoulder with his fist.

This had caused my feisty side to flare-up. I don't like it when a man like him thinks a woman like me to be timid.

"Oh, fuck off!" I pounded at his chest.

Part of my conscience regretted my actions but another part of it was being malicious that I just want to hurt him more. However, it was too late to decide which conscience I should listen to more, because Nick became furious and was about to engage an attack - towards me.

He swung his right fist and charged with a single blow against my left cheek bone. The strike of it made me to revisit my dodgeball training back in high school where a ball hit on my face and I felt a pang of agony and confusion all at once.

As I tripped to the ground, he continued to kick me in the stomach mercilessly. But I swiftly rolled away and got up to an upright stance position with my clenched fist aimed hard at his nose bridge. My strength was something he could take so instead of yielding, he fought harder.

When he struck my head with another blow, excruciatingpain radiated through my face. Nick was even more savage than I thought, he just roughed me up regardless of my gender.

I asked for this, I poke my finger into places where I shouldn't have explored. And when he took his third and fourth strikes on both of my ribs, I was about to lose it.

Nick pinned me down, almost had me in a headlock. But I was quickly enough to squirm and pried off his arms around my neck, pivoted to the side to free my both legs. I booted his left rib with all the strength I had until he was thrown to the side.