Guess who I am

recruit roommates

Northeast Valley Two Bedroom Cottage is now renting a single room.You can walk to the school in 10 minutes. If you are willing to share the fuel costs, you can also take my ride.

Rent is $85 per week.

If you can manage to clean the house once a week (cleaning the toilet, tub, vacuuming, mopping and doing the dishes), I can bring the rent down to $70.

Ask to be friendly to the group.

Are you interested?My contact details are as follows.

***

Jacob hung his No. 20—and final—coloured ad on the bulletin board in Burns Building, and headed back in the direction of the Learning Center—the library and cafeteria.He flicked the strap watch so that the dial moved to the inside of his wrist.It was almost nine o'clock in the morning, and he had to go to the film and television class, but it was not bad to go in and take a look at the notice boards to see if someone had torn off the contact information.

Jacob is a bit caught between a rock and a hard place now that his former roommate Stephanie moved out without warning last Friday.He needs a new roommate - the sooner the better.But this time he had to interview the tenant carefully, and he couldn't stand another person like Stephanie.

He stopped by the first bulletin board.

blinked.

what's the situation?He just pinned the ad here, and it disappeared so soon?Is he not locked up?Did it fall somewhere?

Jacob opened the other advertisements to check in turn, and then searched the ground; he didn't miss the gap between the trash can and the wall.But it was gone.

He let go of the frown that was gradually furrowed, and went to check the advertisement he had stapled on the corner board again.

That one was gone too.

What the hell is this?Could it be that they collectively ran long legs?

Even though he was going to be late for class, he made another round of all the bulletin boards that had advertised.

None of them are gone.

In the Burns Building, the last place where roommates were advertised, he swallowed his anger, removed the used blue tack, and crushed it in his fist.The needle poked him once, causing a sting in the palm of his hand, and Jacob resisted the curse.

He opened his schoolbag, took out a pen and a new sheet of lined paper, and wrote another note.This is for the troublemaker.

He hung it in the learning center with the most traffic.

the mysterious ad thief,

Why?Do you find my painting not pleasing to the eye?Is it so intrusive that it has to go away?

After ordering the note, he trotted to the classroom and quietly slipped to the empty seat in the back row to sit down. For the first time, he felt that it would be a good thing for the film and television class to be held in a lecture theater with [-] seats.

The professor, a middle-aged man with a goatee, was pacing up and down, amused by his own jokes.

"Your teaching assistants have grouped you into two groups to complete the first homework of the school year, and I heard from the teaching assistants that you are all eager to try. I look forward to seeing your work and giving you grades. To Remember, I'm looking at a range of filmmaking techniques, from the technical aspects of filming to the overall creativity of the interview."

Jacob bit his lip and flipped through his notes, back to the last time he went to a TA class two weeks ago.Then he checked the new notes Scott had emailed to him after his TA class yesterday.There is no mention of such assignments.

The plastic pen in my hand was pinched too tightly, and cracks appeared in the shell.He put a pen against his forehead, scratched his eyebrows, took a deep breath, and began to look for Scott in the crowd.

Scott: The source of all kinds of things.

At this moment, he was the reason Jacob knew nothing about the assignment.And for some reason, Jacob felt he did it on purpose.

He's been avoiding the guy since they broke up six months ago.But when he got the new curriculum for this school year, he found that they were assigned to the same teaching assistant class, and he could no longer change classes.So he sent Scott an email and asked them to take turns attending.They send notes to each other, and that's about it. No matter how much Scott pleads, they don't talk much.

He just couldn't face it.

At least not right now, he's not ready yet.

But now it seems that Scott must force him to face it.

"Ah, hell," he muttered under his breath, barely grasping the point as much as he tried to concentrate on the lecture; instead, he was caught in the past.About Scott, Scott in that memory.Scott, with whom he spent high school; his best friend of seven years; his first crush; his first boyfriend; his first love.

Now it's the first ex-boyfriend.

Jacob looked around the classroom again with his eyes, but couldn't find where Scott was.But his teaching assistant, David, is sitting in front. Maybe I can ask him after class, who is my partner for homework after class...

***

Well, he found out who his partner was.

But not from the teaching assistant.

He was walking down the steps after class when he heard someone call his name: "Jacob!"

The voice gave him a jolt.He knew who it was without looking; the man rushed up the steps in his direction, smiling hesitantly.It's Scott.

Jacob wanted to turn around immediately, go back the same way, and leave this ghost place immediately, but his legs froze in place involuntarily.

"Hi," Scott said, brushing a strand of black bangs away from his forehead, "I just saw you."

Students clustered past them, muttering to them to get out of their way.It was a while before he could speak. "You didn't mention homework at all in your last email."

Scott blushed. "Well, I thought it would be better to tell you in person."

"why?"

"Well," he looked down in the direction of the teaching assistant, "you may not like it, but we are grouped together."

"What? No. Let's switch teams now."

"do not want!"

"No?" Jacob asked back.

"I mean, we're all grown-ups, right? So let's put our personal issues aside and just focus on this subject," Scott pointed to the door, "Come on, let me tell you something Specific requirements."

***

They walked and talked.

Jacob had always hated Scott's attitude—he was so calm about everything, acting like the last six months had never happened.

"Oops," his ex said, glancing at the time on his phone, "I'm going to be late for my next class. Shall we meet tomorrow and discuss the details? Or, make another appointment in Philosophy class, I'll Gotta run a few steps. See you later."

Scott ran in the direction of the theater building, and Jacob sighed and walked in the opposite direction.He has an hour to spare before the next class starts.It would be best to have a cup of coffee and read a book for a while.

Back at the Learning Center, on his way to the coffee shop, he checked the bulletin board again.Honestly, he wasn't sure what he was expecting either.Perhaps deep down in his heart, he fantasized that the thief who stole the advertisements suddenly had a conscience and nailed all his advertisements back.

But he didn't expect that when he approached the bulletin board, he saw an extra reply on his note.

No, that's not the case.

Jacob took out the pinched pen from his school bag, and quickly scribbled a reply on the bottom half of the paper.

the mysterious ad thief,

Is that a more disgusting reason?You're a homophobic jerk so you can't stand that rainbow?

Or are you just a brainless bastard who doesn't feel happy if you don't cause trouble, and you have to tear up my ad to vent?

Anyway, I hope tearing up my ad made you totally comfortable.Did you pat yourself on the back and plan to celebrate with a beer later?

- Jacob

He was about to throw the pen away, but it still worked—just enough, and it was the only blue pen he had.So he put the pen back in his schoolbag and headed to the coffee shop, intending to reward himself with the daily morning coffee.Unfortunately, it was the time when the queue was the longest, and he waited for another 15 minutes before getting warm fresh coffee.

He drank and read a bit of the reading material for the next class.When he left, he passed the bulletin board again. He thought that there would be no follow-up to his reply to the ad thief.But guess what?One more message.

Dear Jacob,

Maybe none of those reasons.Maybe your ad got ripped off because someone needed a room so badly that he didn't want to be upstaged.

Is it possible that the brainless jerk you're talking about is actually a smart cutie?

Perhaps you will hear from the perpetrator soon. ;-)

Good luck Jacob,

-X

Jacob shook his head and read it again.How dare you!He took out the broken pen again and wrote a new message.

X?

I sincerely hope you're not stupid enough to think I'm going to kiss you.

I'm not a "kiss and make it up" type.

I admire your thick skin.

- Jacob

He grinned, loaded his pen, and ran off to his philosophy class.There is only one class a week, the small classroom is already full, and there are only two vacant seats to choose from—one in the middle of a row, and if he wants to sit, he has to ask seven people to stand up to borrow it, and one At the very front, it is facing the position where Professor Sto was standing with his hands on his hips.

All her class questions would be directed at that seat.

"What rights should the government guarantee? What obligations should individuals have to the government? If any."

Just as Jacob was telling half a row of students to stand up so that he could sit in the middle seat, he caught a glimpse of Scott, who was sitting far away in the corner of the back row, smirking at him.He sat down hastily and buried himself in his notebook.

Next to the dreaded "questioning chair," a blond man let out a "hum" to something the teacher said, causing the entire class to hold their breath.Professor Staw squinted his eyes and stared at him, and began to attack him by throwing a bunch of questions, but Mr. "Golden Hum" answered her one by one without losing his arrogance.

The two sides have been talking for several minutes, and the cell phone in Jacob's pocket suddenly vibrated.He took out his phone, and the text message came from an unknown number.

He thought to himself, it might be the mysterious advertising thief who came to him to make an appointment to see the house, and opened the text message at the same time.

It's from Scott:

This guy has a lot of guts. :P

I don't know if he is as hot as you?Can't see clearly from the back, so it's not good to comment.

So what about tomorrow?

Jacob read the message again. "I don't know if he is as hot as you?" This sentence made him want to throw his phone on the ground and step on it a few times.In just one sentence, while playing that set of rhetoric to Jacob, he reminded him again why they couldn't go on with just rhetoric.Scott loved him, he was sure of that, but Scott also wondered if the relationship they had was "true love."He said he had to verify that.That's why he decided to go away for a while, because he wanted to know what it was like to be with other people, just to make sure that each other was really the right one before he and Jacob settled down.

Jacob told him at the time: If he wasn't sure, at least it was pretty clear to him.

He closed his eyes, thinking about how to reply, but couldn't think of a word, so he had to turn off the phone and put it back in his pocket.

As soon as the lesson was over, in order not to run into him again, he hurried out through the exit below.

Before the next class, he planned to go to the stationery store to buy a new pen, and took time to look at the bulletin board on the way.

just in case.

Voila.

But no more messages.

Jacob,

Put that kiss on the account first and save it for the next time. ;-)

Why am I called X?

Maybe it's because of my otaku attributes (Dark Horse's anti-hero X happens to be my favorite).

Or maybe, I just want to use it to refer to a "letter who does not want to be named".

In order not to cause misunderstandings in the future, let's use "Mr. X", shall we?

-Mr.X

So, the thief is a man.Jacob looked around at the crowd. How long ago did Mr. X write this note?Is he still around?Maybe he was watching himself right now?

But the neighborhood is mostly girls, save for a tall guy in a tank top and shorts who is tearing up contact strips for used motorcycle deals.

"Mr. X," he said loudly, watching carefully for any subtle changes in the guy's posture, should it be him.

But he didn't respond.

He opened his mouth to scream again, but held back.What if the real Mr. X was hiding somewhere watching him?Seeing myself looking for him all the time, the man might be holding his stomach and laughing.

He shook his head, picked up the cracked pen, and quickly wrote a line under Mr. X's message.

Dear Mr. X,

You are so fucking funny.There will be no next time.

- Jacob

-TBC-