They say that entering university marks the beginning of adulthood a point where life starts to feel freer, where independence finally takes shape.
A petite figure with fair, delicate skin, faintly scented with Care powder, and lips painted a striking red half of it thanks to Nam Uthai Thip, one of the two beloved cosmetic staples that have stayed with me from my awkward, frizzy-haired bottom days all the way to now.
A small, slender face with softly arched brows, a slightly high nose, and thin lips made unforgettable by a charming beauty mark. I stroll out of the fresh market and onto the main road outside only to be met with traffic stretching endlessly as far as the eye can see.
Behind the tall buildings, deep inside the slum community, there might be the occasional stench of stagnant water. But there's hardly any exhaust smoke or the constant, deafening roar of engines like there is out here.
My slender legs quicken their pace as I turn toward the distant sight of the university's fence. The tall buildings stand proudly along the roadside. Inside, the campus sprawls wide and grand, fully equipped with every convenience. The buildings are brand new, the classrooms spotless. Even the cafeteria is filled with well-known brand-name stalls down to the drinks.
Everything looks refined, upscale almost too much so.
A person using an old-model phone raises it to scan and pay for a meal, watching a few hundred baht disappear in an instant, silently staring at the small portion on the plate.
This little food for nearly two hundred baht how is anyone supposed to get full?
No wonder everyone here is handsome, beautiful, and perfectly built. They're all starving, that's why.
Next time, I'll just bring rice and desserts from home.
Another truth about being a scholarship student here is this…
I have no friends.
Yes—no friends at all.
The friend who encouraged me to apply didn't get in, even after studying so hard.
Meanwhile, the one who never even planned on coming here me ended up standing alone, with no idea where or how to make new friends.
Everyone looks so grown-up. Their appearances are no different from models male and female alike.
We all wear the same engineering jackets. We even show up to class with makeup on.
Yet the difference in cosmetics is painfully obvious.
Designer bags and shoes everywhere, styled to personal taste.
The cars they drive, the phones they use nothing is outdated, nothing looks cheap or secondhand.
They're only eighteen or nineteen, yet already tall, well-built, perfectly proportioned.
So how is someone under 160 centimeters supposed to stand out among all these "white elephants" ?
Being short already makes you easy to overlook.
Not having branded items on your body turns you into an outsider altogether.
And it's infuriating being categorized by what you wear, not by what you're capable of.
A shared value system that people blindly follow, one that makes those without money feel visibly inferior.
The difference feels like heaven and hell.
A friend once said, "You'll find friends and even a husband soon enough. You won't be lonely for long."
But that's not true. Not at all.
There are so many people here.
Yet with every step I take, the loneliness grows heavier more than I've ever felt before.
I'm lonely as hell.
"The Automotive Engineering Department is in this building! Hurry up!
All freshmen, please gather so we can introduce you to your seniors and classmates!"
Thud, thud, thud, thud..
The moment the senior announced it at the entrance, many students simply lengthened their strides and followed the voice.
So it really wasn't an exaggeration when people said kids these days grow up fast and tall.
Looking around, it didn't seem like anyone here was under 170 centimeters.
Is this an engineering department… or a university secretly auditioning male and female models?
God must be playing a cruel joke sending one single tiny person into the Automotive Engineering major, a place populated entirely by ridiculously tall people.
Footsteps echoed all around as everyone marched toward their respective faculties. It wasn't just Automotive Engineering being called other departments followed one after another. What had felt calm just moments ago turned chaotic in the blink of an eye.
Short legs pumping frantically, trying to keep up, half-running, half-walking in the end.
Thud, thud
THUMP!
Weaving through crowds much taller than me felt exactly like a Shih Tzu darting around on the ground, craning its neck to look up at its owner towering above.
Running alone for just a split second Something completely unexpected happened.
"Hey—!!"
CRASH!!!!!
Out of nowhere, something small and pale came darting across at full speed, causing us to crash to the ground in a tangled heap with me pinned underneath.
A clear plastic bag filled with Thai desserts spilled out of my cloth bag, while cupcakes and assorted baked goods from the other person's famous-brand paper bag went flying too. They collided midair, landing together in a messy, hopeless pile—completely unsalvageable.
Desserts that hadn't been wrapped carefully, yet I knew instantly who had packed them for me…
Grandma Tim.
She was always afraid I wouldn't eat enough. I'm a picky eater fussy, hates vegetables. I've been small since birth thanks to my parents' weak genes, grew slowly, needed supplements from a young age.
There was only one thing her precious son had never once refused or complained about not ever saying it tasted bad.
Thai desserts.
She quit her office job to sell Thai sweets simply because her child said he liked them. From when I was little… and even now, I still tell her I like them.
I love my mom more than anything.
And I absolutely hate it when anyone talks down on Thai desserts calling them bad, overly sweet, fattening, or whatever else.
I can go from a sweet, innocent angel to a head-biting demon in a heartbeat when I hear that kind of talk.
My eyes drooped as I stared at the scattered layers of khanom chan, mo kaeng, med kanoon, and strands of foi thong, smeared messily across the ground in pitiful little portions.
Anger ignited instantly.
The beauty mark at the corner of my lips twitched violently..
like someone had just flipped the switch on a national-level trash-talker.
SMACK!