The morning of the project submission finally arrived. Although the professors hadn't scheduled the viva or questionnaire defense for today, saving those pop questions and practical evaluations for a later date. But everyone was still required to come in person to hand over their completed files.
Knowing how much was riding on this, I left the house a little earlier than usual. I wanted to make sure nothing went wrong, arriving at the college well ahead of time with a knot of nervous anticipation tightening in my stomach.
When I stepped into the building, the halls were unusually lively. Because submission was mandatory, faces I hadn't seen in weeks were suddenly everywhere. Even those eccentric classmates of mine actually showed up, looking just as scattered as ever, alongside other familiar students shuffling through their final pages. Not long after, Luca hurried through the doors, looking pressed for time as usual, though he offered me a quick, reassuring nod from across the crowded room. Everyone reached at different times so we had to sit separately.
Soon enough, the professor stepped into the lecture hall right on schedule. Roll call began, and one by one, students stepped forward to place their finished project files on the desk. When my name was called, I walked up, handed over my works, and let out a long, quiet breath of relief as it was accepted.
Since there were no regular classes scheduled for the rest of the day once submissions wrapped up, the campus began to empty out. Instead of heading straight home, I decided to make use of the free hours. I slipped away to the quiet sanctuary of the library, searching through the shelves for reference books and study materials. Although the professors had only given us a general window, warning us that final written exams would likely land within the month. I knew I needed to get ahead of the curve before the official dates dropped.
After spending few hours of the afternoon reading and taking notes, I finally packed up and took the train back home. Slipping straight into my room, I settled into my familiar, quiet routine of evening studying.
The next day was a welcome holiday. With no lectures to attend, I spent the entire day locked away in my room, surrounded by stacks of textbooks, review notes, and study guides, pouring over every single detail to prepare for the looming finals.
When the weekend passed and the new week began, I returned to campus. The atmosphere was heavier now, thick with the shared anxiety of students bracing themselves for the upcoming exam period. Hallways buzzed with tense whispers, and classrooms were packed with familiar and unfamiliar faces alike. Luca was there too, though he was still completely buried under the endless weight of student council work and his own frantic exam preparation, leaving us barely any room to cross paths.
The storm was coming, and we were all just trying to hold our ground.
The announcement hit the classroom like a heavy stone dropped into still water.
After the professors finished their morning lecture, they delivered the news everyone was dreading: the viva and questionnaire sessions for our final projects would take place exactly four days from now.
The heavy, tense atmosphere already lingering on campus instantly plunged into gloom. Whispers of panic rippled through the rows of desks. For me, the news felt suffocating. My chest tightened, and a cold wave of anxiety washed over me. Unlike my first year, when I had been entirely consumed by trauma, barely attending classes, and the professors were also quite lenient towards everyone. But this year was entirely different. I actually had to stand up, face the professors, and defend my own work. It was my very first viva, and the thought of it terrified me.
My social anxiety flared up, turning the upcoming days into a mountain I didn't know how to climb. While I had been trying my best to step out of my shell and talk to a few classmates recently, the thought of speaking in front of an entire room of people made my stomach churn. I hated the crushing weight of attention and the way everyone's eyes would lock onto me, waiting for every word, judging every hesitation. The mere thought of standing at the front of the classroom with all those stares fixed on me made it hard to breathe.
How am I supposed to handle this? What if I freeze up? What if I stutter and ruin everything?
That night, sleep was completely out of the question. My nights had always been difficult, shadowed by the lingering ghost of my old trauma, but this time, the acute terror of the upcoming viva made it a hundred times worse. I tossed and turned in the dark, my mind racing through endless worst-case scenarios until my head throbbed. I didn't know how I was going to survive the next four days.