I'm living, I think.

I don't want to name whatever this is happening in my life right now. All I wanted was a bottle of whiskey and less people cluttering my life with their meaningless presence.

But why is that so hard for people to understand? Can't they take the hints even when I sever the connections between us, cutting them off, yet they keep crawling back like persistent insects? 

Why are they acting like parasitic leeches, attaching themselves to me?

It's not like they can extract something valuable from me. Then why are they so desperately clinging?

I've told Lynn a hundred times to stop her relentless matchmaking schemes, but she doesn't even seem to acknowledge my best efforts to avoid people and their expectations.

"Lynn, I'm telling you for the thousandth time now. I don't want to take anyone on a date. I hate when people stare at me with false interest. Don't make me do this." I try to explain to her.

It's not discomfort I'm talking about here. I just don't like it when people gaze at my face with those fake laughs and casually interrogate me about my life as if they're entitled to answers. 

Why should I discuss something about my private life with them and take opinions from strangers about my careers and personal time?

I don't understand this exhausting social ritual at all. My parents and my own sister can't comprehend what I want, so how can a woman I met five minutes ago possibly understand me, while everyone expects me to perform as a gentleman in front of them when I don't want anything except to escape the place?

"You're alone, trying to destroy yourself with this," she gestures accusingly to the crystal glass clutched in my hand. "Alcohol. I can't just sit there and watch you doing this to yourself anymore." She states firmly, crossing her legs elegantly and leaning against the backrest of the leather couch.

I roll my eyes and take another defiant sip, savoring the burn.

"Again…" Lynn snatches the glass from my hand with force and slams it on the table with a resounding thud. "Linda is a good woman, Adrian. Please meet her once."

"Not interested whatsoever." I pick up the bottle from the table and take several deep chugs, bypassing the glass entirely.

Lynn makes that exaggerated face she usually deploys, trying to guilt-trip me into compliance.

"Don't do that." I warn her, but the bite in my voice lacks immediately.

"It's okay. All I wanted was a good life for my brother. But when he decided he didn't want his family's involvement, what could I possibly do then? That's perfectly okay." She rises dramatically and grabs her bag to leave my house, playing her role flawlessly.

I watch her theatrical performance in amused silence, trying hard not to laugh at her transparent tactics. She walks slowly to the door and slips her feet into her heels way too long.

I snort with laughter. "Fine. I'll meet her. This one time." For the hundredth time, I'm repeating the same tired dialogue, knowing I've been outmaneuvered.

Her head snaps toward me instantly, her eyes beaming with satisfaction. "I knew you'd fold." She rushes to me and embraces me tightly.

My hand pats her back. "Just this one meeting." I remind her firmly.

"You'll like her, I promise." She winks at me.

After Lynn left my house with her triumphant smile, I got ready to meet that woman she's been relentlessly promoting. 

Linda is one of Lynn's countless friends from her extensive social circle. She claimed I already met her before Lynn got married years ago. I don't remember her face even after scrutinizing her picture on my phone for several minutes.

I'm just going to the designated place, and if I can't find anyone resembling the woman in the picture saved on my phone, I'll simply turn around and come back home. 

Simple plan.

And a club? Seriously?

Neon Nexus is the exclusive club reserved only for the people who can throw money in every direction they turn. They only sell unaffordable things designed for the wealthy elite, even a single glass of water is expensive there, a status symbol.

I thought it would just be a quiet dinner in some upscale restaurant, but when Lynn sent me the actual address, I lost the final remaining bit of interest I had in that woman, Linda.

I don't like crowds of people around me suffocating my space, and now I have to venture to the club where countless bodies are standing and jumping chaotically on the floor.

It's my unfortunate fate, I should blame no one else.

When I climb out of my car, I hear the deafening noise erupting from outside the club. Why are they yelling so loudly?

Then when I check the time on my watch, the New Year's about to strike midnight. That explains everything. 

It's Lynn's supposedly brilliant idea that I should meet Linda precisely at New Year's, because according to her wisdom, I have to start a good beginning of my life from this pivotal year.

I rolled my eyes at her suggestion again unapologetically, even in her absence.

When I enter the suffocating club, the place reeks of thick nicotine. I try not to take deep breaths of the contaminated air and slide past the jumping people blocking my way, trying to reach the bar that's positioned across from the crowded dance floor.

The intoxicated people start to count the seconds backwards and it's about time for the moment.

Three! Two! One!

Then everyone jumps simultaneously and yells at the top of their lungs, "Happy New Year!" 

I wince involuntarily when I hear the noise rise to unbearable levels. I don't know why they even have lights installed after all, because the place is absolutely dark except for some intermittent neon lights flashing.

My hands clench into fists on my sides. I want to escape from this hellish place already.

Jesus Christ, why?

Just why did I agree to this?

I tap a woman's shoulder with my index finger to tell her to move away from blocking my path.

She looks small, about a foot shorter or something similar. I thought she'd simply move away, but what she did next caught me completely off guard.

She whirls around, grabbing my T-shirt and pulling me down forcefully to her level, and kisses me without warning or permission. 

What the hell is happening?

I freeze for a suspended second when things suddenly escalate beyond my control. When I'm about to push her back firmly, her hand brushes along my body, and that touch literally sends unexpected shivers racing through my entire body, then her hand settles on the side of my neck.

The way she kisses me is not gentle or tentative, just teeth and war.

But why is this random woman kissing me so passionately?

Then she pulls back just enough and whispers something breathlessly to me. "Happy New Year, Leo. Hope you'll have a better year ahead. But don't worry. You're starting this year from my lips. So of course, it would be absolutely delightful."

Oh, the sheer audacity to call me by another man's name after kissing me like that.

Then she turns around dismissively to answer someone calling her.

On the other side, someone grabs my hand. I look to my side and Linda stands there while covering one ear.

"Shall we?" She asks me expectantly.

Before I can formulate an answer, she drags me out of the dance floor. I look back at the mysterious woman who just kissed me after I reach the the bar. 

But she isn't there anymore, vanished into the crowd.

"What do you want to drink, Hayes?" Linda taps my forearm slightly, drawing my attention. "You're distracted. Something wrong?" She pulls me back from the overwhelming tons of questions flooding my mind and my daze.

I shake my head, trying to concentrate on her and not on that accidental kiss that just transpired. "Nothing concerning. Just…the music is too loud for my liking."

Linda smiles at me with understanding. "That's exactly what I told Lynn too. She said that's too boring and predictable, so we should go to this club instead. So what do you want to drink?"

"Ahh, whis—"

"How about something mild?" She interrupts and starts to order the drinks herself without waiting for my response.

I stare at her for a moment before turning my head away from her in frustration.

If she wanted to order what she preferred, then why the hell did she even bother to ask me?

I want to go home already.

The bartender shoves a glass of whatever alcohol across the counter toward me. I weigh my options carefully in my head. But ultimately I take the glass in my hand, without drinking it, of course.

"Lynn mentioned you're working at Eldenhurst University. That's impressive." She genuinely exclaims with admiration while taking small sips from her drink.

"The salary is substantial enough to tolerate those entitled elite brats. Nothing to brag about here." I release a sigh of deep exasperation.

Eldenhurst is the prestigious university exclusively for elite people from across the whole country. A lot of wealthy people from other countries send their children to study here too. 

There's absolutely no place for merit-based students.

Everything here revolves around money. A lot of students here just purchase a degree so they can enter their parents' companies with some basic superficial knowledge about the industry they're about to set foot into.

The management once asked board members about introducing initiatives to allocate some seats for merit students with exceptional GPAs. 

But immediate threats were raised against the management from the students' powerful parents' side. So they abandoned the idea completely.

I mean, who would dare stand up against the people who are literally running the whole institution?

There are nine influential members on the university board. Their children are studying here too. So, the faculties couldn't do anything against them, trapped by their authority.

Linda chuckles slightly with amusement. "Fair enough. Even their own parents can't handle their spoiled children."

I force a polite smile and swirl the liquid in my hand absently.

"Seems like you know quite a lot about me. What about you?" I don't have any genuine intention of asking about her private life.

But I should perform this social obligation so I can escape this place and inform Lynn that I don't like her friend and to leave me alone permanently.

"I'm an architect by profession. Working at the Bellini Vault firm. My parents are in Queens. I was raised there my entire childhood. But I moved to Manhattan after my graduation. Zion was our client. I met Lynn when I was working on his project. Then we became friends instantly. Lynn is such a lucky woman to have a devoted husband like Zion. I met you once when I visited your house looking for Lynn." Her eyes search for recognition.

"Oh? Sorry. Bad memory." I laugh slightly to redirect the conversation.

"That's okay. It happens." She waves her hand dismissively. "Any hobbies? Like watching football or playing golf?"

"Nothing. I don't have time to maintain any hobbies. I'm always busy with my books, taking notes for my next lectures."

She nods and drinks the remaining alcohol from her glass. Then we exchanged a few more polite words before I finally stood up.

"I have a faculty meeting tomorrow morning. I have to go."

"But today's New Year." She looks around the place which is still densely filled with people who are half on high.

"That's for the students. The syllabus is changing for the next semester. So I don't have any choice in the matter. I can drop you home, though."

Please say no.

"That's okay. You can carry on. I have a day off tomorrow anyway." She shrugs her shoulders with easy acceptance.

I flash a smile and nod gratefully, paying the bill before I walk out without a second glance backward.

Why is taking a woman out so damn hard and exhausting?

I park my car in the garage and step into my house with relief. The same old familiar silence welcomes me like an embrace. Finally, I feel home.

Maybe I'm like this because I couldn't process my past. Maybe because I couldn't imagine any future worth living. Maybe because I can't fully live my present.

I didn't expect anything when everything fell apart—it was so sudden and I had no time to react at all. In a blink of an eye, I was lying in the hospital bed.

My hand travels to my neck and my thumb brushes on the scar.

The scar's the reason most of the time I wear collared shirts or turtlenecks instead of casual T-shirts. I don't want to show anyone my pain, my weakness that makes me vulnerable.

I shed my t-shirt and stand in front of the bathroom mirror. The scar is the biggest lie I've ever heard or seen in my entire life. Now I'm condemned to living with it.

I'm such a fool.

A bitter laugh escapes my throat and I make my way to the kitchen. I retrieve the bottle of whiskey and pour some in the glass on the counter.

It's my routine, going to the university, delivering meaningless lectures to disinterested students, coming back home and drowning in alcohol.

I don't have a life at all.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I see Lynn's text when I fish it out.

Lynn: What happened? She said you left early.

Me: I don't like her.

Lynn: She's a good woman, Adrian. Why are you doing this to yourself? Just give her a chance.

Me: I said what I said.

Lynn: And you lied to her. About the syllabus changing for the next semester?

Me: Yes.

Lynn: Can't you even tell some believable lies?

Me: Good night, Lynn.

I put the phone on the counter and gulp down the alcohol in my hand.

I shouldn't have survived.

Ten days of winter holidays are finally over. Now I have to face those entitled brats once again. When I first entered the university as an Administrative Law professor, I encountered some polite kids too.

I was really surprised that some of them appeared good-natured. But the next day they proved that they're entitled to something they desire. They can't change, they won't change because of the obscene money they possess.

There's a strict hierarchy here, too, among the students, invisible but absolute. There are nine families positioned at the top of the hierarchy who descend from old money dynasties.

Their families' powerful elders are running the University with iron fists. Those kids have immeasurable power on this campus.

The second tier consists of the common billionaires who are running vast business empires. Third tier is comprised of those who are able to fund the university generously. Fourth tier is those who can merely afford to purchase a seat here.

No one dares to mess with the kids who are coming from those nine untouchable families.

There's no visible bullying around here that we can see, but I hear whispers about some terrible incident that occurred and the police case closed abruptly because there was no solid evidence against them.

Maybe it's all still happening, behind our oblivious eyes. 

But the faculty has considerable power over the students. They have to listen when we deliver commands.

Because their parents want their kids equipped with knowledge. If they don't listen to us, then how can they gain anything valuable—so parents will not be involved in what happens in the classroom. 

Still, the faculties also maintain their professional distance with students. No one has their favorite student here, not openly, at least.

I push open my office door and step inside. The place is exactly the same as I left it fifteen days ago.

I set my bag down on the desk and take a seat in my chair.

I hear a knock on my office door. Jane stands there with a knowing smile on her face, holding two cups of coffee in her hands.

"Rough night?" She asks with a teasing grin.

"You and Lynn need to stop talking to each other about me." I gesture for her to come in.

She saunters in and hands me a cup of coffee. "You look half dead, Ad. So, how was she?"

I shake my head wearily and take a sip. "Too understanding, too kind, too much smiling."

Jane's eyes narrow for a second, then she laughs at me. "I'm sorry for thinking being kind and understanding are terrible traits now."

"What if they're fake, Jane? People can maintain their perfect facade until they get what they want. I'm just being cautious."

"Oh my god, what happened to that man who used to have a clown-like grin plastered on his face?"

I chuckle once and keep drinking the strong espresso. 

Jane has been my best friend since high school. She knows everything about me, every dark corner. We applied to Eldenhurst and got accepted at the same time, so we don't need to soften ourselves up for people around us because we have each other.

Jane is the Taxation Law professor here; She just divorced her husband because he cheated on her repeatedly. I was happy when she was married and living a happy life.

But one day she came to me and cried her heart out about her husband living another life with another wife. I told her to file a complaint against him. But she refused and filed a divorce instead.

"He's busy delivering lectures." I smile and tap the table with my forefinger.

"You need to live in the moment for a while, Adrian." She sighs with concern.

"And you lived happily?" I tease her.

"He was an asshole. That doesn't mean we don't have good people around here. For example, my friend Hayes is an awfully good man with no life." She waves her hands in the air dramatically.

"No life, I see. What a delightful review."

"You know that's true. I’m a man who's fucking a glass of whiskey every hour of every day while shutting out human beings and living in that haunting house with no neighbors." She mimics me.

I laugh finally at her theatrical performance. "Shut up, Jane."

She chuckles and sips the coffee with an exaggerated slurping sound.

The bell rings shrilly.

I glance at the time and I have to go teach the third year students. "Have to go."

"Oh, have fun. I don't have any classes for the next two hours."

"Yeah, laugh at my misery. Get out." I shove her out playfully and lock my office.

When I enter the classroom, the chaotic sounds assault my ears. I don't say anything but place my book down on the table and look at them expectantly. They're still talking loudly.

I take a deep breath and slam my hand on the table. The loud deafening sound makes them stop whatever they're doing and look at me with startled attention.

"How were your holidays?" I ask them with no genuine intention of hearing any answer.

Some of them chorus with 'good', 'no fun at all', 'boring'.

And one decides to open their mouth. "Heard you went on a date, Mr. Hayes."

I look up at the one who made that comment. "I asked you how your holidays were. Not about your personal life, right? Then you can't talk about my personal life either. And my holidays were awful because I was just stuck in my house and thinking about how to handle the hyperactive students in my class." I want to call him a brat so much, but I can't do it.

He glares at me but doesn't say anything more.

I hold his glare steadily for a few seconds. "I told you all to select a case study and write an assignment about it." My eyes remain fixed on that same punk. "How many of you…" I take the book and flip through the pages. "...didn't complete and submit it? Just raise your hands. I don't want to hear a single word."

Then I let my eyes scan across the other students—most of their hands raised reluctantly.

What am I going to do with them?

"Fine. I'll give zero marks to those who don't finish it." I begin to examine the pages I've marked already.

A collection of groans escapes from them along with a desperate "Nooo".

I ignore them all and write the next topic on the board with chalk.

"Give us two days, Mr. Hayes." Someone calls out to me.

"I already gave you fifteen days. If we reduce the days for Christmas and New Year celebration to two days, what did you all do for the remaining thirteen days? It's just a…three to four hours of work maximum." I turn around to face them.

"That'll affect our externships, Mr. Hayes. Our credits will drop." A girl with glasses speaks up, tears nearly spilling out of her eyes.

"Then you should have thought about the consequences before you decided to skip the assignment I gave you for marks."

Everyone falls silent, but some students mutter something inaudible under their breath.

I sigh heavily. "This evening. Before five pm I need you all to submit the assignments without fail."

The same girl opens her mouth again. "But we have other—"

"I don't care about your other commitments. Five pm or I will give you all zero marks. Do not copy others' works. The case studies must be different for every single one of you. That's all I can do."

Then I start the class without acknowledging their disapproval faces. "Today's topic is Judicial Review of Administrative Discretion."

"Administrative authorities," I begin calmly, "exist because the legislature cannot manage every detail of governance. So power is delegated. Authority is granted. Discretion is given. And that is where the problem begins. Discretion is not freedom. It is not a privilege. And it is certainly not immunity."

Some of the students are already zoning out completely, some taking notes, and some blankly stare at me.

Whatever.

"Discretion means choice. And wherever there is choice, there is the possibility of abuse. Now you might think administrative authorities can do whatever they want. After all, they act in the name of public interest. They are backed by statutes. They have power. But power is never absolute."

"That is where judicial review comes in. Courts don’t replace administrative decisions. They do not substitute their opinions for the authorities. What they do," I tap the desk beside me once for emphasis, "is ensure that discretion is—"

I stop abruptly as I hear the snorts and giggles.

Everyone's attention turns toward me when the place goes silent. 

I don't care if they listen to me or not. I'm just grading their papers and giving them grades and credits. If they don't want to study, then it's not my problem but I don't like it when someone interrupts my class.

My eyes zero in on the one who laughed just now.

"Moretti," I call out, but two heads raise simultaneously. "Ezio," I point him out specifically.

The girl beside him slumps back on her desk.

"Can you stand up and explain what I just said?" I wave my hand to him to get up.

He rolls his eyes and stands up lazily. "I don't know?"

My patience is slowly wearing thin. "If you don't want to listen, then stay silent."

"Got it. Sorry." He's not sorry at all.

I let out a pissed-off sigh. "Get out."

"Why would I want to listen? You want the answers in the papers." He retorts.

"Ezio Moretti, you need to listen if you want to write something in your paper."

"Well, we don't follow the rules, though. So teach us something real for us. That's why you're getting the salary, right?" This time the voice comes from beside Ezio.

I shift my gaze to Ciana. "Just because you don't follow the rules, doesn't mean they're useless. There are some people here who do. Let them study in peace. And you have to write what I'm teaching you to get marks. So, I don't think you have any choice in this." My arms fold across my chest, putting the book down and looking at her directly.

"Fair enough." She says and lets her forehead slump on the desk again, but this time a loud thud escapes. "Ow!"

"Get out of my class, Ezio Moretti." I repeat firmly.

Ezio laughs again and grabs his bag. "Good riddance." Just as he steps out of his desk, he grabs Ciana's arm, hauling her to her feet and dragging her with him out while he rubs her forehead.

She doesn't protest or say a word, just follows him silently.

Why are they so impossibly hard to handle?