The Rebel’s Masterclass (Tagalog)

Chapter 2

Sikat na sikat ang araw sa San Castores City kinaumagahan, na tila ba walang nangyaring hagupit ng bagyo kagabi. Nababawasan na ang baha sa mga kalsada, pero ang bakas ng putik sa lumang sapatos ni Nabiya, nananatili pa rin. She walked through the grand, concrete arches of San Castores Christian University, automatically lowering her head—standard safety protocol niya para hindi siya mapansin ng kahit sino.

Every single time she stepped onto this campus, pakiramdam niya ay napapadpad siya sa ibang planeta. The students around her were laughing, casually talking about their recent weekend trips to beach resorts in Batangas, and flaunting their designer bags under the morning sun. She, on the other hand, kept adjusting the strap of her faded backpack, ensuring her posture didn't give away the absolute stress eating her alive.

Pero sa loob ng backpack na iyon, nakatago ang mabigat at mamahaling kahon ng medical inhaler.

Hindi nga panaginip ang lahat ng nangyari kagabi. Leo’s breathing had stabilized right after she got home thanks to that medicine, pero imbis na mapanatag ang loob ni Nabiya, mas lalong nabaliw ang utak niya sa kakaisip. Rakan Velasco—the school’s most notorious, filthy rich bad boy—had literally stolen it for her. At ang lala pa, pinagmukha siyang tanga sa gitna ng madilim na eskinita bago siya iniwan sa ulan.

"Yabang ng gago," bulong niya sa sarili habang paakyat ng hagdan patungong building ng College of Arts and Sciences. She knew Rakan, of course. Sino ba namang hindi nakakakilala sa lalaking iyon? In a university where everyone was trying to look important, Rakan was the guy who owned the place without even trying. He drove a luxury bike, skipped exams whenever he felt like it, and carried this untouchable aura that screamed old, dangerous money.

Pero alam din ni Nabiya na bago ang insidente sa alleyway kagabi, Rakan didn't even know she breathed the same air. Magkaiba sila ng departamento, at mas lalong magkaiba sila ng mundong ginagalawan. She was just a nobody from District 4 working her ass off for a scholarship, while he was campus royalty.

Nang makarating siya sa open-air student lounge ng third floor, biglang nagka-ingay ang mga grupo ng estudyante malapit sa locker area. Nabiya rolled her eyes internally. She didn't need to guess kung sino ang dahilan ng bulungan.

Bitbit ang isang mamahaling designer handbag, Golda Simons walked down the hallway as if she owned the entire building. The Mayor's daughter was breathtakingly beautiful, covered in premium French perfume na abot hanggang sa dulo ng corridor ang amoy. Her long, treated hair swished perfectly tuwing lilingon siya para tumawa sa mga banat ng clique niya.

And right beside her, holding an iced americano with sheer, unadulterated indifference, was Rakan.

Golda’s hand was tightly wrapped around Rakan’s arm, marking her territory for everyone to see. "Babe, you’re coming to my dad’s yacht party tonight, right? You promised me last week," Golda’s whiny, high-society voice echoed through the hall, earning envious glances from the passing freshies. Everyone on campus knew they were dating. Sila ang ideal power couple ng San Castores—the Mayor’s daughter and the mysterious billionaire's son.

Rakan didn't even look at her. He just took a slow sip of his coffee, his sharp jaw shifting in pure annoyance. "I told you, Golda, I’m busy."

"Busy with what? Fixing those stupid, greasy motorbikes again? Come on, Rakan, shut up and just come with me. My dad is expecting you," Golda teased, leaning her head heavily against his shoulder.

Nabiya watched the scene from a safe distance, standing near her designated locker. Napairap na lang siya habang nagkukunwaring nag-aayos ng mga libro. They looked like a match made in high-society heaven, but anyone with working eyes could see that Rakan looked like he wanted to jump off the building rather than stand next to his own girlfriend.

Habang naglalakad ang dalawa sa direksyon niya, Nabiya’s body instinctively tensed up. Ang puso niya, biglang bumabilis ang t***k, parehong-pareho sa takot at kaba na naramdaman niya sa eskinita kagabi habang basang-basa siya sa ulan. Her fingers gripped the edges of her notebook until her knuckles turned white.

Ano ang gagawin ko pag bigla niya akong kinausap? Is he going to bring up the shoplifting in front of everyone? Putcha, huwag ngayon, andyan si Golda, she panicked inside her head, her hazel eyes widening as Rakan’s icy grey eyes randomly swept across the hallway.

Five steps away. Three steps away.

Nabiya held her breath, waiting for the smirk, the look of malicious recognition, or even a mocking tilt of his head that would ruin her entire college life.

But absolutely nothing happened.

Rakan walked right past her. Ang layo ng leather jacket nito ay halos isang pulgada lang mula sa balikat niya, pero his grey eyes didn't even blink. He looked straight ahead, completely blank, as if Nabiya Torillo were nothing but a piece of transparent glass attached to the university wall.

Nabiya stood there frozen as the heavy scent of Golda's expensive perfume washed over her, completely replacing the crisp morning air. She slowly turned around, watching their retreating backs habang nagtatawanan ang grupo ni Golda.

Napasapo si Nabiya sa sarili niyang noo, biglang nakaramdam ng matinding halo ng hiya, relief, at matinding inis. "Tarantado talaga ang isang 'yon." He really, honestly didn't recognize her. Kagabi, she was wearing a massive hood that covered half her face, tapos basang-basa pa sila pareho sa dilim. To Rakan Velasco, she wasn't a schoolmate or a real person—she was just a random, pathetic thief he decided to play with out of pure, unadulterated boredom.

"Akala mo kung sinong gwapo," she muttered under her breath, turning back to her locker to slam her history textbook inside. My god, her cheeks were burning from the sheer embarrassment of overthinking. Pero sa isang banda, mas mabuti na nga ito. Walang pakialam ang gago, ibig sabihin, ligtas ang scholarship niya at walang gulo ang pamilya niya.

But as she finally closed her locker door and walked toward her classroom, she didn't notice na ilang metro sa dulo ng koridor, Rakan had suddenly stopped walking. He casually glanced back at the crowded hallway, his grey eyes narrowing into a sharp gaze as he tracked her small, oversized uniform silhouette disappearing into a room.

"Rakan? Hey, are you even listening to me?" Golda snapped, tugging his arm aggressively.

Rakan adjusted his grip on his coffee, his face instantly returning to that same bored, cynical expression. "Yeah. Whatever you say, Golda."