The Circle Of Beginnings

Wine's POV

That night, after dinner, the house grew quiet. Aunt Emi fussed over me like she always did, asking if I’d eaten enough, if I wanted more fruit, if I was comfortable in the room. I kept assuring her I was fine, though deep inside I felt strangely warm at all the care she gave. It had been a long time since I’d felt this kind of gentle love around me.

Earn leaned back in his chair, yawning dramatically. “Mum, stop treating him like a guest. He’ll be spoiled in a week.”

Aunt Emi swatted at him playfully. “Be quiet, you. It’s his first night here. Show some manners.”

I laughed softly, watching them. Their small arguments felt like family. Something I had missed for too long.

After we cleared the table, Uncle John went upstairs with a tired smile, and soon Aunt Emi followed. The house fell into silence, leaving only the hum of the night insects outside.

Earn and I stood awkwardly in the hallway for a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… I guess we’re roommates now. Don’t snore too loudly, okay?”

I chuckled. “I’ll try not to.”

He grinned, a little mischievous, before heading into the room first. I followed, settling into the bed they had prepared for me. The sheets were soft, smelling faintly of jasmine detergent. As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I felt both nervous and hopeful. A new life was starting here. Maybe… maybe things would finally be different.

Sleep came slowly, carrying me away into a dreamless rest.

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New Morning in Chiang Mai

The next morning, I was woken not by anyone else but by the soft alarm I had set on my phone. The faint chime filled the room, and I quickly turned it off so it wouldn’t disturb Earn. He was still asleep, breathing steadily, his messy hair falling over his forehead.

I quietly slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. The water was cold at first, shocking against my skin, but soon it warmed. I stood under the stream for a long moment, letting it wash away the heaviness from yesterday. The scent of the soap filled the air, clean and fresh, and for the first time in a long while, I felt lighter — like maybe I could actually start again.

When I stepped out, steam curled around me. I wiped the mirror with my hand, looking at my reflection. My dark eyes seemed calmer today, less haunted. This is me now, I thought. This is who I’ll be from here on.

I dressed carefully in my uniform, tucking in the shirt, fixing my collar, brushing down the creases until I looked neat.

By the time I came downstairs, Aunt Emi was already in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared breakfast. The smell of eggs and toast filled the air.

“Good morning, Auntie,” I said, bowing my head slightly.

She smiled warmly. “Good morning, Wine. Sit, sit. You have a big day ahead.”

Earn stumbled in a few minutes later, yawning as he plopped into the chair beside me. “You’re too early,” he mumbled.

“I didn’t want to be late,” I replied.

He gave me a lazy grin. “You’ll fit right in with me then. I hate being late too.”

We ate together, the simple breakfast tasting more comforting than I expected. Afterward, we grabbed our bags, slung them over our shoulders, and stepped out into the bright morning air.

The city was already alive — motorbikes zipped past, vendors called out from their stalls, and students in uniforms moved in groups toward the same direction as us.

Earn nudged me lightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll show you everything. University life isn’t as scary as it looks.”

I nodded, gripping my bag strap tighter. “Thank you. Really.”

Side by side, we walked toward the gates of the university, where my new journey truly began.

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After Entering College

The main hall buzzed with nervous chatter as we freshmen settled into rows of seats. Earn sat confidently beside me, relaxed as though he’d done this a hundred times before. I, on the other hand, could feel my palms growing damp.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed. A spotlight fell on the stage, and music blasted through the speakers.

In a burst of color and energy, a group of seniors rushed onto the stage — clapping, singing, and dancing in sync. Their voices rose in a playful chant:

“Welcome, welcome, our new family!

Together we’ll shine, just wait and see!”

The crowd erupted in laughter and applause. The seniors were so full of life, so unashamed, that the tension inside me began to loosen. I even found myself smiling.

Earn leaned over and whispered, “See? Told you. This isn’t scary at all.”

When the performance ended, the seniors invited us to stand and follow them to the courtyard. There, under the wide blue sky, we were guided into one huge circle.

“All right, everyone!” a senior with a microphone called out. “This is the moment we truly begin. Each of you will introduce yourself — your name and one unique thing about you. Don’t be shy, we’re all family now!”

One by one, students spoke. Some were funny, some awkward, some surprisingly bold. The circle filled with laughter and applause after each introduction.

When it was my turn, my voice trembled slightly, but I steadied myself.

“My name is Wine,” I said. “I… I like writing. It helps me think.”

A few claps and cheers followed. Simple, but enough to make me breathe easier.

Later, another boy stepped forward, his smile soft and slightly shy.

“I’m Arm,” he said quietly, his fingers fidgeting with the corner of his notebook. “I… I like reading novels and books. They help me… think and imagine things.”

The seniors clapped politely, some freshmen nodded in approval, and the circle moved on. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him — quiet, calm, and different from the others.

When the introductions ended, and the circle began to break apart, I walked over to him. Arm looked up at me, a little startled, his shy smile flickering.

“You like reading, right?” I asked, crouching slightly to meet his gaze. “That’s cool. I… I write sometimes. Maybe you can recommend a book to me?”

Arm blinked, a small smile spreading across his face. “Maybe… I can. I mean… if you want, I will.”

I grinned softly. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” he said quietly, still shy, still gentle. “Looks like… we’re friends already.”

Something about his calm presence felt comforting, like he had quietly chosen this connection for both of us. And strangely, I didn’t mind at all.

After introductions, the seniors handed out envelopes and papers. “Now,” the senior explained, “we want each of you to write a letter to your future self — the version of you who will graduate years from now. Write down your dreams, your fears, or anything you want to remember. When you graduate, we’ll give these letters back.”

The courtyard fell into thoughtful silence as pens began scratching across paper.

I stared at the blank sheet before me for a long moment. Words didn’t come easily. What could I say to a future version of myself?

Finally, I wrote slowly, carefully:

Dear me,

If you’re reading this, it means you made it. I hope by then… the pain you carried has eased. I hope you’ve learned to love without fear. And I hope you’re not alone anymore.

My chest tightened as I folded the letter and slid it into the envelope. The senior collected it with a smile, placing it into a large box filled with the hopes of so many others.

And as the box was sealed, I felt something stir inside me — a fragile spark of hope, almost too small to notice, but still there.

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To be continued..........

"Sometimes, the smallest steps forward are the ones that lead to the biggest changes."

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