My class was called off due to university staff were on strike, allowing extra time for my mates and I to finish up the group assignment during the affected hours. Andy Hong, my team member had discussion room DC 101 at Precinct Library in Crawford booked at a very last minute. We walked through the turnstile auto gate by the library's reception, passing the isle of computers, flanking by the side and went straight into DC 101 room to settle ourselves before commencing the discussion.

As the room warmed up with Douggie Honnam's cynical jokes, in between Andy's overflowing of ideas to solve the business case and Elira Kreyziu chipping in, I spotted a tall figure donned in black wool trench coat, peeking into the room, followed by sudden loud rap from outside. As the door opened, I noticed the familiar figure sauntering in. Nick Pholadi.

"I got this room booked for a quarter to 2.00," he said arrogantly, flashed the BookedIt app from his iPhone with a schedule under his name for DC 101. He scanned around the room and surpassed me, as though we never met.

"That's weird," Andy said baffled, pulling out his phone to check. "It was vacant when I BookedIt."

"Yeah, you must have booked it but not Bookedit," Nick tossed his Tom Ford duffle bag across the table, pushed away some of our notebooks to the floor before he pulled a chair to sit. "Now beat it and sort your shit out elsewhere."

Reluctantly we did as he was told. It didn't take me awhile to pack my things, I watched Elira packed hers and rolled my eyes at Nick in vexation. Nick caught my glare with no response but to stare back as if to say, 'get lost, bitch'.

He doesn't remember me at all.

We resumed to the common space outside Precinct Library where there were ample tables and chairs to choose from but the air was almost freezing out butts off. We worked our ideas out with Douggie's Macbook as quickly as possible before segregating our tasks.

Despite us being cool about it, Andy couldn't stop beating himself over the wrong bookings as he showed us the email confirmation from his phone. I already sensed something dubious with the booking system, nevertheless I was more agitated to see Nick once again.

It was half past 3.00pm when I saw him ambled out from the Business School entrance towards the bike parking spot. He pulled out a cigarette from his left breast pocket with his right fingers and placed it between the corner of his lips. His left hand searched for a lighter in the same pocket and lit it to smoke. He placed the lighter back into the pocket and took a few long, slow draws from the burning cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke, billowing from both his mouth and nose.

My anger from that night's incident didn't subside so I marched across the car parking lot towards him seeking for a payback. He turned to look at me as I drew near and continued to stare at me with calm and composed manner.

"Look, if you are still thick enough to talk about the mix up, don't come to me," he said.

"I'm not here to talk about what happened at the library," I said. "I can tell the system got screwed up according to your demands. So 'nuff said about it."

He responded to my remark with a smug while flickering the ashes from his cigarette on the pavement. "I've to admit your judgement is impressive but I'm not into mooting right now."

"But you have the desire to put Abs at gunpoint, do you?" I said without hesitation. "Or should I say, to do away with him?"

Nick choked from the fag when Abs' name was mentioned but quickly recovered with a bitter laugh, more like a snicker. "Abs is not worthy of my killing, nor wasting my time talking to a jackass like you."

"Then why slit his forearm?" I asked. "You prick!"