Jay's POV
Our dorm was no private palace—Oxford stuck us in a shared quad for first-years: me, Freya, Rakki, and one mystery roommate. Four narrow beds crammed against ancient stone walls, desks wedged in corners, a single frosty window overlooking a shadowy courtyard. Jet lag crushed us as suitcases thudded down, the silence thick and wrong after Manila's constant pulse.
"Shared?!" Freya whined, nudging her bag toward the dead radiator. "I wanted velvet robes, not this crypt."
Rakki flopped dramatically. "Freezing already. UK, why you do this?"
I snagged the window bed, unpacking Mom's medallion first—my piece of home. Homesickness sank claws in quick. No Section E madness. No family noise. Just cold stone breathing down our necks.
Door creaked open. Mia stepped in—pretty girl with brown hair and striking green eyes, carrying a violin case slung casually over her shoulder. No posh air—her accent was warm Indian lilt, grounded and real. "Roomies! Hope I'm not late to the mess."
"Violinist?" Rakki perked up.
"Performance major," Mia grinned, unpacking sheet music. "Mia. You three the Manila takeover?"
"Oxford '30," I said, shaking hands. "Jay. Freya, Rakki."
Freya's eyes sparked—Mia pulling a Vogue from her bag. "You into fashion too?" Freya asked, clocking designer sketches in Mia's notebook.
"Obsessed," Mia laughed. "I sketch collections between scales. You design?"
"Amateur," Freya blushed. "But I live for Alexander McQueen and sustainability drops."
Instant connection—fashion souls bonding fast. Mia wasn't posh; she was real, chatting fast fashion waste vs ethical Indian textiles, Freya nodding like they'd been mates forever. Rakki and I traded smirks. Freya's hit jackpot.
Keifer's POV
Guys' wing across quad mirrored us—shared quad: me, C-In, David, Georgii. Damp stone, creaky beds, grimy window stinking of old Oxford. C-In took corner bed, FaceTiming family. David lounged like royalty, drill low.
"Fancy school, skint dorms," David muttered.
Door slammed. Georgii loomed—tall blonde footballer, blue eyes piercing under floppy hair, rugby ball tucked armpit, gin bottle hand. Pluto footballer tough—built like he'd crush you pitch-side. But grin split wide—pure kind-hearted teddy bear, dimples popping. "Lads! Public school boy invading. Cool?"
"Keifer Watson," I clocked him. Tank frame, but sweet vibe underneath.
"C-In. David."
"Georgii Cavendish. PPE. You the Manila chaos squad?" Ball bounced easy, voice booming-warm. "Heard you bring fire. I'm down."
David grinned. "Watch."
Unpack flew—C-In family pics, David playlist.
Phone blew—Jay's quad pic dropped: her, Freya, Rakki, brown-haired green-eyed Mia mid-sketch.
Section E : "Oxford Survivors vs Manila Rats" WENT NUCLEAR
Rory:Pics or fake
Calix: Newbie slay? 👀
Blaster: Beds = Inquisition
Grace: JAYYY 🥺 miss u
Mica: Call TMR 8PM Manila?
Mayo: [empty classroom] 💔
Kit: Don't ghost for royals
Our snap—C-In calling, David beats,
Keifer: Quad w/ C-In, David + Josh Pluto (footballer, tough look but golden heart). Jay's ice tomb. Pray.
Rory: Rugby tank? Drama
Freya: MIA = violin/fashion queen 😍 McQueen soulmate
Rakki: Radiators DEAD
Aries: Watson don't taint. Bat locked 🪵
Back to Jay's POV
Our quad chaos matched—Mia/Freya deep in fashion talk (McQueen vs russian couture), violin tuning (rich warm notes), Rakki snack queen. Phones endless: Kuya Angelo (Mom call), Aries (🥲), Tita (prayers).
Keifer (private).good night. Miss u. I love you until scientists find the end of the universe ❤️
Mia caught my grin,hazel eyes twinkling. "Boyfriend?"
"Busted."
"First nights destroy," she said, Russian accent soft. "Week tops. Then squad." Freya nodded, sketching beside her new BFF.
2AM, chat died. Freya/Mia whispered Vogue vs violin. Rakki snored. Across quad, Georgii probably winning lads with gin. Notifications pinged on the phones non stop.
Oxford forged bigger families. Chat glow? Immortal.
Last ping:Rory: Dreamers. Grind. We got this !