Chapter 001: Thesis Fail
The male lecturer's hand danced nimbly on the white paper. His red pen scribbled and circled parts that he deemed unsuitable. In front of him stood a female student, waiting anxiously. Especially when the lecturer flipped through her thesis, leaving more and more red marks on it. She tried to stand tall despite feeling weak, weak because for the umpteenth time, she had to redo her thesis.
"How is it, Shakila Aulia? How many revisions is this?" The handsome lecturer with glasses framing his eyes leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped together on the table, staring seriously at the girl standing before him.
"F-fifth, sir," Shakila's voice trembled, her hands twisting the hem of her shirt.
The young lecturer sighed. "You should learn from your mistakes, shouldn't you? Why are you still revising?"
Shakila didn't answer, busy thinking of an excuse. Her thesis wasn't entirely her own work; she had bought it from a friend who offered thesis-writing services with a guarantee of passing.
"I-it's... sir," Shakila stuttered, but the lecturer cut her off, slapping his pen on the table.
"I'm not interested in excuses. This is the last revision. If you fail again, you'll have to repeat the year."
With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Shakila. She took her thesis and left the room, followed by her friend Amanda.
"How was it? Did it pass?" Amanda asked, her face tense.
Shakila slumped into a chair, shaking her head. "Failed again."
Amanda's expression mirrored her concern. "That thesis was from Marsel, wasn't it? How could it not pass?"
Shakila's eyes narrowed. "We'll deal with Marsel later. Let's go."
As they left, two pairs of eyes watched them from behind a door, shaking their heads.
At home, Shakila faced her father, who asked about her thesis.
"It needs more revisions, Dad," she said, her head bowed.
Her father, Pak Hamdan, looked stern. "You're old enough to get married, La. I've arranged a marriage for you."
Shakila's eyes widened. "Dad, I'm not ready!"
"You've been studying for four years and still haven't graduated. This marriage will help our family's business. You'll marry the son of a business associate."
Shakila felt trapped. Her mother, Aina, intervened, explaining that the marriage was a way to repay a debt.
"Mom, what about my studies?" Shakila asked, desperate.
"You can continue studying, and your future husband can help you with your thesis. He's a lecturer, after all."
Shakila felt like she was being forced into a corner.