Then school reopened and with it came a new type of aura.
Michael and I weren't in the same class, he was in Science 6 and I was in Science 4. Our paths didn't cross in lectures, but they collided in the way all good stories start: by accident… or more accurately, through Amos.
Now, Amos was my dormmate. Funny guy. Calm until he wasn't. We made a track together one night, nothing serious at first. Just two boys bored out of their minds with a borrowed Beatboxer called "Jesse". This boy could phantom beats. Unlike me...no saliva.
I rapped on it.
People loved my part. Like, really loved it. I started getting nods in the dormitory. Guys would quote my bars back to me like I was already famous. It was lowkey addictive.
That's when Amos said, "Yo, you gotta meet Michael."
He introduced us one evening after prep. Michael had this easy confidence, cool without trying, like life just agreed with him. We shook hands. Traded smirks. Ten minutes later, I was rapping my part of the song to Micheal, like I had something to prove.
Michael was good.
Too good.
He didn't just rap, he performed. Words rolled off his tongue like they'd been sitting there all day waiting to be released. Freestyle after freestyle, punchlines flying, everyone hyping in the background.
That was the beginning.
Not just of a friendship but a brotherhood.
One built on music, shared secrets, and the quiet understanding that we were both trying to make sense of life in our own loud ways.
And maybe, just maybe, we'd help each other find some clarity along the way.
Dorm life had its quiet hours.
The kind of quiet that wasn't really silence, just murmurs. And in those moments, lying side by side on our creaky dorm beds, Michael and I talked like the world had stopped to listen.
He told me about Juliet.
Not the Instagram version, nah. The real Juliet. The one who texted paragraphs and always checked if he'd eaten. The one who cried on calls and still found a way to laugh seconds later. His voice would shift whenever he talked about her; soften, like she was something sacred he was holding carefully.
Then it was my turn.
I unloaded the mess I'd made back home. Joana. Yvette. The way my heart split itself in two without asking permission. I told him how I felt like I was floating between what I wanted and what I didn't deserve.
Michael didn't judge. He just listened.
That's when Jade came up.
We both sighed at the same time, like the name carried weight.
I laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. "'Cause sometimes… being bad looks good."
Jade was chaos. Charismatic, reckless, always a little too smooth. He could talk his way out of anything and into even more trouble. He had this strange gravity, the kind that pulled people in even when they knew better.
But mostly… we hated how much we related to him.
Michael and I weren't saints. We had our own shadows. But with Jade around, the line between right and fun got blurry.
Still, there was comfort in saying it out loud.
Two boys, swapping secrets between yawns and ceiling stares.
Yeah, school had reopened.
But something bigger had too,something real.
Brotherhood.