I Saw You First

The room was louder than Rhea remembered liking. Not in a chaotic way, just the steady hum of people pretending they didn’t care who noticed them. Conversations overlapped in soft collisions, laughter rising and fading too quickly to mean anything. She adjusted the strap of her bag and stepped further inside, letting her eyes move across the space without settling anywhere for too long. Someone brushed past her shoulder. An apology followed, half-mumbled, already forgotten. Rhea didn’t respond. She rarely did in moments like this. There was no point collecting unnecessary exchanges. The event was structured enough to look organized but relaxed enough to feel unimportant, that middle ground universities liked to pretend was “welcoming.” Fresh paint on old walls. Plastic cups lined on tables that would be wiped and reused tomorrow like nothing had happened. She took a drink she wasn’t sure she wanted and moved toward the edge of the room, where the noise softened slightly into background. A group nearby laughed too loudly at something that didn’t sound funny. Someone clapped once, like they were testing if attention would follow. It didn’t. Rhea glanced down at her phone, then back up again, letting her attention drift without permission. There were too many people in one place to feel like anyone was actually here. Rhea shifted slightly as someone slid into the space beside her, close enough to register but not enough to interrupt. “First time here?” the girl asked, holding a cup in both hands like it was something fragile. Rhea glanced at her briefly. “No.” A pause. The girl smiled anyway, like she had expected that answer or didn’t care what it was. “Same,” she said. “I think they just like calling it a welcome event every year so people feel less lost.” Rhea hummed softly in response, not committing to agreement. Her eyes drifted past the conversation again without meaning to. The room was still loud, still moving, still pretending to be more meaningful than it was. The girl beside her kept talking, something about timetables and lecturers and how everything looked better on paper than in reality. Rhea nodded at the right moments. It was automatic..something she had learned to do without fully participating. “Are you studying something in the arts too?” the girl asked eventually. “Yes,” Rhea said. “Which one?” A beat. “Media.” The girl lit up slightly, like that explained something important about her. “Oh, interesting. I’m-” Rhea didn’t catch the rest. Not because she wasn’t listening, but because her attention had already loosened again, slipping away without permission. The room shifted subtly as people moved toward the center, chairs scraping lightly against the floor. Someone called for everyone to gather, voice amplified through cheap speakers that made everything sound slightly distant. Rhea followed the movement, not because she was invested, but because standing still felt more noticeable than moving. Her steps were unhurried as she joined the edge of the group forming in front. Nothing about the moment felt significant. And yet, she stayed. The speakers crackled again, louder this time, cutting through the scattered conversations. “Alright…can everyone move a bit closer please?” The voice belonged to someone Rhea couldn’t see clearly from where she stood. A coordinator, probably. The kind who tried to sound relaxed while managing too many people at once. The crowd shifted reluctantly. Rhea stepped forward with them, letting herself be carried by the slow compression of bodies rather than choosing a direction. The room felt smaller now, more defined, like it had finally decided what it wanted to be. A temporary structure pretending to matter. “Groups will be assigned shortly,” the voice continued. “Just stay where you are for now.” A soft groan moved through the crowd. Someone laughed behind her, light and uninterested. Rhea folded her arms loosely. Waiting was always the part people hated most, but she didn’t mind it. Waiting didn’t ask anything of her. Her eyes moved again without urgency..over faces, over gestures, over small clusters forming and breaking apart. Someone nearby adjusted their bag. Another checked their phone. A girl in front of her leaned slightly to whisper something that made her friend cover her mouth in amusement. Nothing stood out for long. The noise softened for a moment as the speakers paused, and in that brief gap, Rhea became aware of how many different conversations were happening at once without ever truly meeting. It felt like being inside something alive but unfocused. “Okay,” the voice returned. “We’re going to start calling names for elective group placement..please respond clearly when your program is mentioned.” A shuffle of attention spread through the room. Rhea straightened slightly without thinking. Names always made spaces feel more organized. More real. She waited. Names began to fall into the room one after another. Clear, mechanical, slightly distorted by the speakers. Some people answered immediately. Others hesitated, looking around as if the correct response might be written on someone else’s face. Rhea listened without reacting, letting each announcement pass through her like background noise she didn’t need to hold onto. “Business Administration.” A cluster shifted to the left. “Psychology.” A few voices answered at once. “Engineering.” Another movement, heavier this time. She noticed how every group sounded slightly different when it formed..some excited, some reluctant, some indifferent. Like the room was splitting itself into small identities. It was almost interesting. Almost. “Media and Communication.” That one made a few heads lift. Rhea didn’t move immediately. She simply registered it the way she registered everything else..quietly, without attachment. A short pause followed, like the list had not finished yet but was deciding whether to continue. Then- “Media and Communication elective group one.” A few scattered responses answered from different parts of the room. Rhea spoke when her name was called, her voice steady enough not to stand out. “Here.” No one reacted to it. No reason to. She stayed where she was as people around her began shifting again, this time with more intention. The loose crowd was slowly dissolving into smaller, more defined clusters. Someone brushed past her shoulder again, murmuring an apology she didn’t fully register. Rhea adjusted her stance slightly, now more aware of where she was meant to remain. Group one. She repeated it in her mind once, then let it go. The room continued to rearrange itself. And she waited for whatever came next. The movement around her slowed as people began settling into their assigned spaces. Rhea found herself standing with a small cluster of students who looked just as uncertain as she felt uninterested in pretending otherwise. Some were already introducing themselves, voices overlapping in hesitant attempts at connection. She stayed slightly to the side. Not apart from them..but not inside them either. A girl with braided hair smiled at her first. “Hi. I think we’re in the same group.” Rhea nodded once. “Seems like it.” The girl relaxed a little at her tone. “I’m Amina.” “Rhea.” A pause, then another smile. “Nice to meet you.” Rhea gave a small acknowledgment in return, the kind that ended conversations without being rude. Another boy stepped closer, glancing between them. “Do we know what we’re supposed to do yet?” “No,” someone answered quickly. “They didn’t say anything after grouping us.” A low murmur followed that, people exchanging brief opinions about organization, expectations, whether this was normal. Rhea listened without joining in. Her attention drifted slightly past them again..not searching for anything, just moving the way it always did when nothing demanded focus. The room still hadn’t fully settled. Chairs scraped in the distance. Someone laughed at something unrelated. A coordinator’s voice cut through again, asking everyone to remain where they were. Time felt stretched in small, uneven pieces. Rhea shifted her weight once, then let stillness return. There was no reason to rush the moment. It would continue whether she participated in it or not.