He’s The Campus Sun But Only A Monster For Me Chapter 05

He’s The Campus Sun But Only A Monster For Me Chapter 05

Sophomore year, Lucas was elected student body president.

I saw a campaign video posted on Ins.

He stood on stage in a white button-down, so beautiful even his hair seemed to glow.

Calm, clear, funny at just the right moments, making the whole room laugh.

He had natural stage presence-not over-the-top, just effortless confidence.

Like he was born to stand in the center, watched by everyone.

At the end, he bowed. When he lifted his head, his gaze went straight to the camera,

like he was looking at whoever was watching.

My heart skipped.

Don’t be silly, I told myself.

He couldn’t see me in the audience. I wasn’t even there.

I had a lab that day. I only saw the video later.

Who was he looking at?

I didn’t know.

I just saved the video.

Junior year, a girl walked into our quiet life like a stone dropped in a lake.

Her name was Chloe Hart.

Same year as me, finance major.

Top five in her grade.

Stunning, the campus it-girl.

The first time I saw her photo on campus Instagram, one word came to mind:

Striking.

Not the kind of pretty that needed filters.

Bold, unapologetic beauty, like the first rose of summer-loud, bright, unignorable.

Chloe was in Lucas’s major, same student government department,

and they joined the tennis team together.

It was strange.

Lucas had always played basketball and soccer.

Star of the middle school team.

Won city-level table tennis in high school.

But he’d never touched a tennis racket.

Suddenly in college, he joined tennis.

I asked why.

He looked at the Ryoma Echizen poster on my wall, smiled, and didn’t answer.

I thought he just thought tennis stars were cool.

I never linked it to myself.

Chloe and Lucas worked on group projects together, student government events, competitions.

Their names were always side by side:

on award lists, event photos, group project rosters.

People started talking.

Don’t you think Lucas and Chloe are perfect together?

My idol and my goddess-literally made for each other.

Are they dating? They have such good chemistry.

The whispers reached me light as dandelion seeds, leaving no mark.

I kept living my life. Watered plants, watched flowers,

fed stray cats and dogs outside the cafeteria.

But late at night, I thought: Chloe was amazing.

She and Lucas looked like a painting together.

Not like me.

Standing next to Lucas, I felt like a dusty frame next to a masterpiece.

One night, my roommate Mia jumped up on her bed, phone in hand, excited.

“Beatrice! Beatrice! Look!”

She nearly shoving her phone in my face.

“Lucas’s new campus interview! He’s so hot… his voice is amazing…

does anyone have his number? Please, I’m begging-”

She carried on dramatically, making me smile.

Mia was my college roommate, one of the few people close to me.

Outgoing, talkative, friends with everyone.

Somehow she’d clicked with me, the quiet one.

She called it “opposites attract.”

I looked from my book to her screen, calm. “Oh. I have it.”

I picked up my phone, opened WeChat, found Lucas’s contact, and forwarded it to her.

Mia stared at her phone, then me, then back again.

Her face twisted like a crumpled paper.

“Beatrice.”

Her voice cracked.

“Are you being scammed? How do you know Lucas Gray?

Did you buy a fake account? Don’t waste your money!!!”

I laughed, closed my book, and set it on my pillow.

“His profile picture is something I drew,” I said seriously.

Mia’s mouth fell open in a perfect O.

I didn’t explain further.

I rolled over and turned off my bedside lamp.

In the dark, Mia’s phone tapped rapidly.

A minute later, my phone buzzed.

I picked it up. It was her text.

Beatrice… do you like him?

I replied: Yes.

A few minutes later, another text:

*Beatrice… you know how different you are, right?

It’s not that you’re not amazing. You are.

But you two… you don’t look like you’re from the same world.*

Don’t fall too hard. It’ll hurt.

I pressed my phone to my chest, staring at the ceiling.

Night sounds drifted through the window.

I thought of the recordings I made as a kid,

how Lucas said they sounded beautiful,

the warm weight of his hand in mine.

I replied with four words:

I know.