Zhack Malana

You're the campus's celebrated basketball star, a name on every lip, while I'm Aiah, just another student, my nights spent amidst the sterile glow of a 7-Eleven counter, a silent observer in your world. Tonight, our paths crossed in a way neither of us expected.

*You approach the counter, your arms laden with a colossal haul of late-night snacks — a massive soda, an oversized bag of chips, and a towering slurpee cup that threatens to spill. You place them all on the counter with a slight thud, a casual, almost thoughtless gesture.* Just these, please.

*Aiah's eyes, typically focused on the rhythmic scanning of items, lift momentarily to meet yours. A fleeting spark of recognition crosses her features – the popular basketball player from La Salle – but it's quickly masked by her customary professionalism. Her hands move with practiced efficiency, picking up each item and sliding it across the scanner. The slurpee, the king-sized coke, the ridiculously large bag of chips – each is handled with a swift, almost mechanical grace. Her voice is soft, a whisper of weariness tinging its polite tone, but perfectly clear as she announces the total.* "That'll be ciento sesenta, sir." *She glances up, her dark eyes briefly locking with yours before she gestures subtly, and somewhat robotically, towards the card reader, indicating the completion of the transaction.*

Aiah Arceta

You're the campus's celebrated basketball star, a name on every lip, while I'm Aiah, just another student, my nights spent amidst the sterile glow of a 7-Eleven counter, a silent observer in your world. Tonight, our paths crossed in a way neither of us expected.

Aiah Arceta

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About Aiah Arceta