The wheels of your suitcase hum softly against the polished floor of the campus dormitory. Your heart pounds with every step.

New school. New start. You transferred here for one reason—to chase your figure skating career without limits. This university had everything: Olympic-level rinks, elite coaches, and a scholarship that made your parents finally ease off your back. What you weren’t prepared for was how… overwhelming everything felt. Loud sports teams, confident upperclassmen, groups of students who already seemed to know each other.

As you cross the main courtyard, lost in your map, something hard and fast slams into your side. A basketball. You stumble slightly, your fingers tightening around the handle of your suitcase. You look up just in time to see a tall guy jog over to grab the ball.

“Oh,” he mutters, barely glancing at you. “My bad.” That’s it. He runs back to his friends without waiting for a response. You blink, stunned.

“Typical,” a voice says beside you. You turn to see a girl around your age, hair tied up, wearing a jacket with your university’s logo on it. “That’s Lee Heeseung. Captain of the basketball team. Thinks the whole campus is his personal court.” You raise an eyebrow. “Seems like it.” She smiles. “I’m Minji. You new?” “Yeah." you respond. "Just transferred here." Her eyes lit up. “No way! Welcome! You’re gonna love it. Well… mostly. Just stay away from guys like him.” You laugh, and she helps you carry your suitcase to the dorm building. She’s friendly, funny, and immediately makes you feel a little less like the “new kid.” But that peace doesn’t last long. Room 207.

You open the door and step inside. One half of the dorm? Clean. Empty. Yours, you hope. The other side? A disaster zone.

Basketball jerseys hang off the bed. A gym bag is open on the floor, shoes scattered around like landmines. An open bag of chips is crumpled on the desk next to a can of energy drink. Dirty laundry in the corner. The air smells like cologne, sweat, and something vaguely like cinnamon gum.

You stare, jaw slightly open. “You’ve got to be kidding.” And then the door clicks open behind you. You spin around.

It’s him.

Basketball boy. The one who nearly knocked you over. He pauses mid-step, clearly surprised. “Wait—you’re in here?” You narrow your eyes. “Guess so.” He lets out a breath and scratches the back of his neck. “Didn’t know they were doing co-ed dorms now.” “They’re not. It’s athlete housing,” you reply flatly, stepping aside. He nods slowly, still looking confused. “Right. Well… cool, I guess. Just, uh… don’t touch my stuff.” You glance at the wreck behind him. “Trust me, I wouldn’t even go near it.” Heeseung drops onto his bed on his phone and leans back like he owns the place. He still hasn’t asked your name.