chapter six

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   Upon returning to my dorm after the rest of my classes, where thoughts of Professor Murphy occupied my mind, I seamlessly slipped into my typical post-class routine. I dressed myself in a pair of comfortable sweatpants and laid on my bed, scrolling through my phone like a zombie. As I continued, I stumbled upon an ad for my university, featuring an older woman posing triumphantly with a student proudly displaying an 'A+' on their paper.

The school, CU Boulder, and the professor were both tagged in the post, sparking an intriguing idea in my mind.

I swiftly rose from bed, retrieved my laptop from my backpack, and settled at my desk. Without hesitation, I navigated to the ad account that was basically the official Instagram account for my university, and clicked on 'following' button. I instantly entered the words 'Cillian Murphy' in the search bar.

And to pleasant surprise, there he was. His account, small, and public, showed a series of faceless photos of books and a singular picture of him at the beach with his dog. He was on the sand, holding the small, cocker spaniel in his hands with a joyful yet subtle smile on his face. He seemed to never show too much emotion. It was from 2014, almost ten years ago, and somehow, he was even more attractive now vs when he was younger. Although his account was captivating, it was also a little boring, because the only other picture he has of his face was his profile picture, which consisted of him and his friend, holding up a class of wine with a brilliant smile casted upon his face.

I scrolled through all 26 posted images of his, reading almost every comment. I came across his most recent photo, posted over the summertime, of a book titled 'The Trial' and was by the one and only Franz Kafka that we had learned about for the past month.

It was the only post that was actually captioned, and which it read; 'Favorite Book.'

Intrigued, my eyebrows lifted, and I opened a new tab, swiftly locating the book on Amazon, priced at a mere $5.99. Without a moment's hesitation, I made the purchase, making it my mission to read the entire thing and immerse myself in its pages. The plan? Nonchalantly introduce the topic during our next interaction, providing us with a newfound, personal conversation point.

I was a fucking genius. 

***

   As the week unfolded, encountering Professor Murphy privately became increasingly challenging. His schedule appeared rushed, with classes ending early almost everyday and him leaving in a hurry. This left me wondering whether or not I was the reason.

In the past days, my curiosity led me to check Professor Murphy's Instagram account constantly, hoping for any updates. However, it remained inactive. My thorough exploration of his entire profile, accompanied by multiple reviews of tagged photos, came with zero results. Most of his friends either had private accounts or were completely useless. The search for more information only increased.

The weekend unfolded at its usual pace, yet there was a newfound anticipation for Monday's class thanks to the arrival of the long-awaited book. It came in the mail a day before the weekend stated, but I still hadn't even bothered to open it up yet. But this book would provide the perfect pretext for initiating a conversation with Professor Murphy, giving me a reason to finally be able to have another private conversation with him. In my determination to make a lasting impression, I vowed to invest hours in reading the book.

As Monday approached, I packed the book in my backpack, hoping its presence wouldn't go unnoticed. With a sense of urgency, I zipped up my bag and hurried to class. Arriving on time, I selected a seat even closer to the front row, striving to make my eagerness obvious to Professor Murphy. I wanted to make sure he wasn't avoiding me, if that was what was happening. Things were set up for a possible meeting that had both excitement and a bit of nervousness.

my professor, my obsession || cillian murphyWhere stories live. Discover now