As the tension threatened to overwhelm the moment, Presence reacted swiftly, plastering a smile on her face. "Hi," she said, her voice sounding unnaturally cheerful even to her own ears.

Anthony, clearly caught off guard, managed a hesitant "Hi" in response.

The silence that followed was palpable. Presence, acutely aware of the growing awkwardness, cleared her throat. "I'm late for my revision class," she announced, her words tumbling out quickly. With a series of awkward movements, she dodged around Anthony, slipping past him into the hallway.

As Presence hurried away, she could feel Anthony's gaze following her. She resisted the urge to look back, focusing instead on putting as much distance between herself and the charged situation she'd just left behind.

Back at the door, Anthony watched until Presence disappeared from sight. Only then did he turn to face Funi, who stood in the doorway with her arms folded, fixing him with an intense stare.

Attempting to diffuse the tension, Anthony quickly smiled, holding up the bag in his hand. "I went to get breakfast," he said, his tone forcefully light.

Funi rolled her eyes in response, turning on her heel and heading back into the room. Anthony followed, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

Once inside, Anthony couldn't contain his curiosity. "Who was that?" he asked, his casual tone betrayed by the intensity in his eyes.

Funi's response was cold and direct. "You shouldn't have come back," she said, her voice laced with a mixture of anger and weariness.

The room fell into an uneasy silence. The breakfast bag in Anthony's hand suddenly felt heavy, a prop in a play that had taken an unexpected turn.

Anthony's face contorted in confusion. "What?" he asked, genuinely perplexed.

Funi repeated herself, frustration coloring her words like a bruise. Anthony shook his head, lost in translation.

Then, like a switch flipped, Funi's tone sharpened. "Where's the USB?"

Anthony shifted uncomfortably. "I told you I'd take care of it," he replied, his voice tight.

Funi scoffed, throwing her hands up in exasperation as she turned away, walking towards her desk. Anthony gently placed the breakfast bag on the bed, careful not to spill its contents. He watched Funi, a mix of concern and wariness in his eyes.

"I don't understand. What is going on?" Anthony said, his words dripping with confusion like melting ice cream.

Funi whirled around, her eyes blazing. "You ask me that? When have you ever been straight with me, Anthony? It's like trying to nail yoghurt to a wall."

Anthony stood frozen, a statue witnessing Funi's emotional avalanche.

"You vanish for days, weeks," she continued, her voice rising like a storm surge. "Then, bam! Cryptic texts, midnight calls, or you show up unannounced - drunk, high, or beaten up. And now? Mystery letters and USBs about Kel's death. So yeah, Anthony, what IS going on? You tell me!"

Anthony's voice came low and careful, like someone approaching a wounded animal. "Funi, calm down-"

"I think you should leave," Funi sliced through his words, her tone a deadbolt sliding into place.

Anthony's response was a single, bewildered word: "Why?"

"I need some time to think," Funi replied, turning away as if she could physically shut him out.

Anthony stood frozen, a photograph of confusion and hurt. The silence stretched between them, elastic and dangerous, filled with all the words they'd never said. Months of grievances and secrets pressed against it, a dam about to burst.

Then, something in Anthony's eyes changed. It was the look of someone reaching a tipping point, of years of careful balance finally giving way.

"You know what?" he said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "You made me this way!"

The accusation hung in the air, a grenade with its pin pulled. Funi turned back to face him, shock evident on her face.

The room crackled with tension, a lightning storm in four walls. "You are mad," Funi whispered, her voice barely a breath.

Anthony's response was instant, bitter as black coffee: "At least I'm something. Unlike you - hot then cold. You have successfully avoided me after what we shared."

Funi's eyes widened, shock rippling across her face. "What we shared? That was a fucking mistake and you know it!"

Anthony's expression hardened like cement. "Maybe the first time," he said, voice low and intense. "But the second? Third? Fourth? I've lost count, Ifunanya."

Her full name hung in the air, heavy as lead. Tears welled in Funi's eyes, the weight of their secret threatening to crush her. "You're the antichrist," she whispered, voice trembling. "He is your friend."

"Was!" Anthony snapped, his composure shattering to pieces. "He was my best friend too! But... Funi..." He reached for her, his face a battleground of longing and desperation.

Funi recoiled, raising a finger in warning. "Don't," she hissed, her voice sharp as broken glass.

Then, like a dam bursting, her words flooded out, raw and self-loathing:

"I hate myself everyday ...every single ...day," she began, voice quavering. "For lying to his face. For that stupid fight, for drinking myself senseless, for calling your manipulative self to 'rescue' me." Her voice cracked. "I wish that car had taken me instead. I owe him that. But you just..."

Anthony's face contorted, desperate. "Ifunanya, please..."

"Get out." Funi's words hung in the air. Anthony stood frozen.

"Get the fuck out of my room!" she screamed, eyes clenched shut against reality.

The room felt like ground zero of an emotional explosion, every word fragment tearing into their carefully constructed facades. The forgotten breakfast bag sat like a relic from a different lifetime, when things were simple and unbroken.

In that moment, it was clear that some secrets are too heavy to carry, and when they fall, they shatter everything in their path. Anthony and Funi stood in the wreckage of their choices, facing the terrible truth that sometimes, the person we hurt most is the one we see in the mirror.

Anthony's face burned with a mixture of rage and hurt, his eyes welling up. He licked his lips, barely containing his emotions, and mouthed "Okay" before slowly turning to leave.

Anthony opened the door and standing there was Presence – the unexpected wildcard in their drama. Anthony's tension visibly eased at her oblivious expression.

Presence burst into speech, words tumbling out like spilled marbles. "Forgot my phone," she explained, flashing an awkward smile as she darted past them into the bathroom.

As she rushed back, phone in hand, Anthony's voice sliced through the air. "Wait," he commanded, his tone a mix of steel and desperation.

Presence froze, caught between Anthony and the door, her eyes darting between him and Funi.

Funi stood motionless, her face a mixture of exhaustion and wariness, as she watched this unexpected interaction unfold.

As the tension in the room reached its peak, Presence's phone suddenly rang out, shattering the silence. She glanced at the screen, relief washing over her face as she saw "KK" displayed.

"KK, you beautiful life saver," she thought to herself, quickly answering the call.

KK's voice boomed through the speaker, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, "Where the fuck are you, bitch?"

Presence turned back to Anthony, mouthing an apology and pointing to her phone. "Ah, Mrs. Adetola," she said loudly, her voice taking on an overly polite tone as she began to hurry away.

On the other end of the line, KK's confused voice could be heard, "Mrs. Adetola ke? What the fuck are you saying?"

As Presence rushed out of sight, she continued her charade, "Are you calling about the assignment on Human Behaviour? I'm on my way to turn that in now."

Anthony stood frozen for a moment, watching Presence's retreating form. He then turned to Funi one last time, his eyes filled with a complex mixture of emotions – regret, anger, longing, and something undefinable.

Funi met his gaze, her lower lip trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. As Anthony finally turned to leave, she slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing through the hallway like a final punctuation to their tumultuous encounter.

Outside, Presence continued her hasty retreat, her heart pounding. "KK," she whispered urgently into the phone once she was sure she was out of earshot, "I owe you big time. You have no idea what you just saved me from."

Back in her room, Funi leaned against the closed door, sliding down to the floor as sobs wracked her body. The weight of her guilt threatening to send her to afterlife's peace.

Meanwhile, Anthony stood in the hallway, fists clenched, mind racing. Presence's sudden appearance everywhere important and hasty exit left him reeling. Like a comet, she'd blazed across his world, brilliant and fleeting, leaving only questions in her wake.

As the three of them moved apart – Funi isolated in her grief and guilt, Anthony grappling with anger and suspicion, and Presence fleeing with newfound knowledge – it was clear that the complex web of secrets and lies surrounding them had only grown more tangled.

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