The grand auditorium buzzed with life, the echoes of footsteps mingling with murmured conversations. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floors. For most students, this was just another building—one among many—but for me, it was a place I would rather avoid.
Memories of my father clung to this place like dust in forgotten corners. He had been here before me, walked these same halls, left behind a reputation I wanted nothing to do with. No matter how much I tried to ignore it, his name followed me, whispered behind my back by those who recognized it.
Dr. Smith's son.
That title made my stomach churn.
I tightened my grip on the application letter in my hand and exhaled sharply. Today wasn't about him. Today was about proving, to myself more than anyone, that I could be here on my own terms.
The research club.
It wasn't some desperate attempt to follow in his footsteps. I had been interested in this long before I even knew he had been a member. Science fascinated me, but unlike him, I wasn't obsessed with control, with perfection, with pushing things beyond their limits.
I was here because I wanted to be.
As I approached the clubroom, a soft humming reached my ears—a gentle, almost playful tune that felt out of place in a research lab.
"Coming in," I called as I pushed open the door.
The sight that greeted me was unexpected.
The room was in complete chaos. Beakers, flasks, and strange gadgets cluttered every surface. The air in the room was thick with the sharp scent of chemicals, stinging my nose and making my eyes water. The space was cluttered, not just with equipment, but with chaos—the kind that felt like it had no order, no discipline. And yet, in the middle of it all stood a small girl, barely reaching my chest, calmly mixing something in a glass vial as if she were making tea.
I frowned. "What are you doing?"
She didn't answer immediately. Her eyes flicked up, wide with a brief moment of panic.
"No, the chemical is—"
But she didn't get to finish her sentence.
A loud pop rang out, sharp and sudden, and before I could react, smoke poured from the glass vial, thick and choking, filling the room in seconds.
My eyes burned, my throat constricted. The room erupted into chaos, people shouting, scrambling.
"Shit! Open the windows!" someone yelled.
The smoke was suffocating. It clung to the air, blurring everything around me, turning the world into a distorted mess of shapes and shadows. I couldn't breathe. My lungs felt like they were being squeezed in a vice.
Then, a hand, cool and steady, grabbed mine, pulling me away from the smoke. I barely had time to process it. The hand was firm, urgent, dragging me through the haze like I was weightless.
"Come on," a voice said, low and commanding. It sounded familiar. Too familiar.
I was yanked forward, moving faster than I could think. I had no choice but to follow, stumbling, the smoke still burning at my skin, the sting of it clawing at my throat.
Before I even realized what was happening, we were in the washroom. Cold water splashed onto my face, and I blinked, trying to clear the blur from my vision. The burn in my eyes made everything feel surreal, almost dreamlike. But when I looked up—
My stomach dropped.
Blonde hair.
I knew that hair. I knew her. The girl from before. The one who shouldn't have been here.
I forced myself to breathe. To calm down. But the tension in my chest wouldn't ease.
The guy in front asked are you the new member
"Yeah, that's me," I muttered, trying to steady my voice. "I'm Adam. Adam Smith."
She tilted her head just slightly, studying me, her expression unreadable. And then, almost too casually, she gave me a slow, knowing smile.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Alice from C2."
My heart skipped. My pulse thudded painfully in my ears.
No. She shouldn't be here. Not like this. For a second, I thought maybe—just maybe—she didn't recognize me. But then she stepped closer, her presence sending an electric shock through me.
The room felt suddenly too small. My chest tightened, my breath shallow.
And then, just before I could react, she whispered, her voice like a caress against my ear:
"Found you."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Found you.
The air in my lungs froze. My heart faltered.
How did she know?
She shouldn't know. She couldn't. But the way she looked at me—the glint of recognition in her eyes—told me everything I needed to know.
For a brief moment, I considered running. Turning on my heel and escaping before it could all unravel. But something held me there, frozen in place, caught between fear and confusion.
Before I could gather myself, Alice stepped back, her expression shifting as if nothing had happened. The moment passed, and she straightened, a calm, practiced smile returning to her face.
The others started filing into the washroom, their voices full of concern as they checked on us. But I wasn't listening. My focus was on Alice. Her eyes. The weight of her words.
The tension between us felt like it was humming, vibrating in the air, thick and heavy. But Alice? She seemed unaffected. With a bright, almost too cheerful smile, she clapped her hands together.
"We should throw a party to welcome them," she suggested, her voice full of enthusiasm. "Does everyone agree?"
The room exploded in agreement, a chorus of cheers filling the air. "Yeah!" they shouted, excitement pulsing through the group, infectious and loud.
I barely registered the words, my mind still reeling. My thoughts were tangled with her words, with the way she had looked at me—like she knew something I wasn't ready to face.
As I turned to leave, someone draped an arm over my shoulder casually.
"Give me your contact," the guy beside me said. "I'll add you to the group chat."
I nodded, handing him my number absently, still lost in the confusion of the moment.
But as soon as I did, I felt it.
That feeling. The one I couldn't shake. The feeling of being watched.
I glanced around, unease crawling up my spine, but when I scanned the room, I saw nothing. No one seemed out of place. No one looked at me strangely. But the weight of it—of being watched—stayed with me, a lingering presence that refused to fade.
Maybe it's just my nerves, I thought, trying to shake it off. Maybe it's just the chaos. The smoke. The shock of the moment.
But deep down, I knew it wasn't just that. Alice had said found you. She had found me. And no matter where I went, no matter how far I ran, I couldn't outrun that.
She wasn't just some stranger.
She was a reminder. Of everything I wanted to escape. Of everything I couldn't leave behind.