Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 85: A Day Without You

The sunlight filtering into the dorm was bright, too bright. Noel sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the unread messages on his phone — not from Luca. None from him.

His jaw clenched, eyes blank, shoulders locked like they hadn’t moved all night.

The alarm had long stopped ringing.

He didn’t care.

He checked the time again.

No message. No call. The silence was louder than any argument.

He hadn’t come back. Or maybe he had—and left again.

Noel’s throat tightened.

Was this it—was Kian the reason? Noel stared at the ceiling, pulse heavy in his throat, afraid the answer was already echoing back.

He’d seen the message — "I miss you, Luca. Let’s meet." That was the beginning of it. Maybe Luca had gone back to him.

Maybe that’s why he never came home.

He stood up abruptly, grabbing his bag, shoving notebooks inside without thinking. If he sat here another second, he’d go mad.

The road to campus was empty. Each step felt like an hour.

When he reached to the hall.

The lecture hall buzzed with quiet chatter and shuffling notebooks — the low chaos that always came before class began.

Noel slipped into his seat near the middle row, keeping his head down.

His hoodie hung loose around his face, eyes tired, jaw tight. He opened his laptop, but the screen stayed blank for a while. His fingers just hovered above the keys.

The professor walked in, sharp blazer, thick glasses, and a stack of folders under one arm.

"Alright, everyone. Settle in," she said, voice firm but not unkind. "Let’s continue where we left off last class—International Business and Cultural Negotiation."

A few people groaned quietly. The professor ignored them.

"Now. In international markets, success isn’t just about product or price. It’s about perception — how your company presents itself, how it respects or fails to respect the culture it’s entering." She paced slightly in front of the projector. "Who can give me an example of a cultural misstep that cost a company?"

Noel stared blankly at the screen. He wasn’t hearing her — not really.

Someone a few rows ahead raised their hand. "Pepsi in China?"

"Yes," the professor nodded. "Pepsi’s old slogan — ’Come alive with the Pepsi Generation’ — was mistranslated to something like, ’Pepsi brings your ancestors back from the grave.’"

The class chuckled lightly.

Noel didn’t.

His eyes shifted to the door.

He knew Luca didn’t have class this morning. He wouldn’t be walking in. Still, his eyes kept flicking to the door.

He clicked his pen. Once. Twice.

Where the hell did you go?

The professor turned toward the board. "Another key element in international strategy: communication tone. Some countries value directness, others prefer ambiguity. Knowing the difference is what keeps negotiations from going cold."

Noel’s eyes flicked toward the clock. Only fifteen minutes had passed.

His foot tapped under the desk. His notes still hadn’t started.

"As the professor clicked to the next slide, Noel felt a nudge from the side. Mara leaned in slightly. "Hey," she whispered. "You good?"

Noel gave a nod too small to be convincing.

Mara didn’t press. She never did.

He forced himself to type a line on his laptop:

Cultural missteps = deadly for market entry. Communication ≠ universal.

He stared at the words. They blurred slightly.

Like how I didn’t say what I should’ve said.

He exhaled softly, adjusting in his seat.

The lecture droned on.

Noel did his best to stay with it — eyes flicking from the slides to his half-written notes. The words made sense, technically.

The professor was making solid points about negotiation tactics, adapting strategies for high-context versus low-context cultures, and the importance of nonverbal cues across regions.

But Noel wasn’t fully here.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, folding and unfolding the seam. His knee bounced. His screen was still mostly blank.

Did Luca even come back last night?

He didn’t check the dorm this morning. He couldn’t. The idea of seeing an empty bed again... or worse, seeing Luca there and pretending nothing happened — he couldn’t handle it either way.

The professor moved on.

"Next week, we’ll cover case simulations. But before that..." she turned from the board, scanning the room.

A murmur rose from the students.

"...your project presentations," she said, clearly enjoying the brief wave of dread that passed over the class.

She lifted a hand and gestured toward the windows. "The deadline was today. I’ll be in my office until evening. Each group is expected to drop off your reports and give your fifteen-minute presentation."

There were a few groans.

She smiled dryly. "I don’t care if you present in the hallway. But every group must come."

Noel sat up slightly.

The professor scrolled through the list. "Group 6..." she glanced at her roster, "Noel, Eli, Mara, Sam. You’re on the list for today."

Noel blinked. "Wait—today?"

"You’ve had two weeks," the professor said without looking up. "You’ll be fine. You always are."

The class started shifting around him — people gathering papers, whispering in groups, checking their schedules.

Mara leaned over again. "We’re good, right?"

Noel hesitated. "I mean... yeah. I think."

Sam was already walking over, phone in hand. "I can print the final version at the media center. We’ll meet outside the office?"

Eli gave a thumbs up. "I’ve got the charts."

Noel nodded, trying to match their energy, but inside he was unraveling.

More waiting.

More hours with no message from Luca. Nothing. Not even a stupid emoji.

He looked at his phone. Still no notifications.

The class filed out around him — the lecture now a blur — and he was left standing in the middle of it, tired and quieter than usual.

He pushed his hands into the safety of his hoodie pocket, let the voices blur around him, and walked — because standing still felt worse.

They gathered under one of the shaded concrete awnings just outside the admin building — a common spot students used when waiting for office hours or presentation slots.

The air was thick with humidity, clouds crawling slowly across the pale sky like they had nowhere urgent to be.

Mara sat on the low wall, notebook in her lap, flipping through their slides.

Sam paced with his phone, muttering bullet points under his breath.

Eli leaned against a column, earbuds in, scrolling through his phone like none of this mattered.

Noel stood a little apart from them, back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

His bag hung low from one shoulder. He stared blankly ahead, jaw set tight, occasionally glancing down at his phone — still no message.

"You think we’re going in soon?" Sam asked, looking around.

"I just saw Group 4 leave," Mara said, checking her watch. "We’re probably next."

"Cool." Eli popped an earbud out. "Remind me what I’m supposed to say again?"

Mara sighed. "You were covering the comparative entry strategies. FDI vs. joint ventures?"

"Oh, right." Eli looked back at his phone. "I’ll wing it."

Mara rolled her eyes but didn’t bother to argue.

Noel shifted his weight. His mind was elsewhere, but something in Mara’s tone tugged him back.

"I can do the intro," he said, voice low but clear.

Mara looked up. "You sure?"

He nodded, still not meeting her eyes. "Yeah."

She watched him for a moment longer. "You okay?"

He paused. "Just tired."

Sam chuckled lightly. "Everyone’s tired. We’re all crawling to midterms."

But Mara didn’t laugh. She just kept looking at Noel — like she wasn’t buying it, but respected the fact that he didn’t want to talk.

Noel sat down beside her, pulled out his laptop, and opened the slide deck. He scrolled through it mechanically, stopping at their title slide — Market Entry Strategy: Expansion into South Korea.

Normally, he’d be proud of something like this. They worked hard. The data was clean. Their arguments were strong. But today it felt like just another thing to get through. Another checkpoint on a day that wouldn’t end.

He adjusted the brightness on his screen and glanced up at the office window.

Still Group 5 inside.

Still waiting.

His knee bounced.

Every few seconds, he looked at his phone. Nothing. Just the time slowly bleeding forward.

1:52 p.m.

Then 2:07.

Then 2:20.

The longer it dragged, the more something heavy started crawling up his chest — the kind of pressure that had no shape but sat just beneath the surface, waiting to crack.

The hallway was quiet when Group 6 was called in.

A narrow glass door led into the office — too clean, too still — the air buzzing faintly with an old ceiling fan overhead.

Professor Victoria sat at her desk, a tablet in front of her and a cup of black tea steaming faintly at the edge.

She didn’t smile, just motioned toward the standing area with a brief: "Whenever you’re ready."

Noel stepped forward without a word, sliding the USB into the port on the projector system. The screen behind him lit up with their title slide: "Market Entry Strategy: Expansion into South Korea"

He stood tall, hands clasped calmly in front of him, but his heart was pounding in ways that had nothing to do with the topic.

Still, when he spoke, his voice didn’t waver.

"Good afternoon," he began, glancing once toward the professor, then back to the slide. "We’re Group 6, and our focus today is on evaluating international entry strategies for companies expanding into the South Korean market."

He read the bullet point, but the words blurred for a moment.

Click. Slide 2.

"We analyzed three models — exporting, joint ventures, and full foreign direct investment. Our case subject is a mid-sized Western fashion brand seeking scalable market presence in East Asia."

Behind him, Mara stood ready to take over. Sam fiddled with the laser pointer. Eli stared vaguely toward the clock, but none of it distracted Noel.

He spoke like a machine—fluid, rehearsed, faultless. On the outside, he was still Noel. On the inside? Static.

But under it all?

His eyes were too focused. His hands too still.

He wasn’t in the room. Not fully.

He was thinking about Luca.

About that look in his eyes. The one that didn’t quite reach him. The one that disappeared behind the bathroom door.

Where did you go?

Click. Slide 3.

Mara stepped in now, taking over seamlessly. "For the joint venture analysis, we studied a successful case—LG’s collaboration with General Motors. The data supports strategic resource sharing and faster local market adaptation."

Noel took one step back. Hands in pockets now.

He felt the phone buzz faintly in his jeans. His heart stuttered.

He didn’t look.

Sam jumped in with his part next, slightly off tempo but managing. Eli was brief — barely skimming his lines — but the professor nodded here and there.

Then it was Noel again for the close.

He cleared his throat, stepped forward. "In conclusion, based on risk, control, and long-term scalability, our recommendation is gradual foreign direct investment — beginning with a partnership-focused market entry, followed by the establishment of independent retail infrastructure over a 5-year period."

Click. Final slide.

He looked up again, voice clear but calm. "Thank you."

The room fell quiet.

Professor Victoria tapped a few notes into her tablet, then finally looked up. "Very strong analysis. Concise, relevant... though one of you might want to remind Mr. Eli what a joint venture is."

The others chuckled. Even Eli cracked a grin. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

But Noel didn’t laugh. He just nodded slightly and unplugged the USB.

He had delivered the presentation, earned the professor’s nod—but none of it settled the ache in his chest. Not when Luca was still missing. Not when silence felt like a closing door.

"Report submitted?" the professor asked.

"Emailed this morning," Mara confirmed.

"Good. You’re done."

And just like that — it was over.

But nothing eased in his chest. Because Luca still hadn’t come back. And this wasn’t the thing he was waiting for.

New novel chapt𝒆rs are published on free(w)ebnovel(.)com