Panic - The Public Experiment

The next morning, Delia woke up with a heavy head. She went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, feeling the chill on her face cool her fevered thoughts a little. A glance in the mirror revealed the same tiredness that was in her head, but she tried to ignore it. Forcing herself to move on, she changed into a simple dark dress and a denim jacket, then left her room, trying to ignore the strange feeling that was gripping her.

The hallway was quiet, except for snatches of conversation from the kitchen and the sounds of people preparing breakfast. Delia headed toward the dining room, meeting no one on her way. In the hallway, filled with the smells of the kitchen, she suddenly felt a slight uneasiness - there was so much uncertainty in her life, and she needed at least a little normality.

She opened the door and walked into the dining room. The room was filled with the usual morning noise: plates and cups clinking, conversations, laughter and vague talk filling the air. When she entered, Jerome, noticing her, took the opportunity to make a joke.

"Well, look who we see here," he said with a grin, winking. "How are you, beauty, since last night? Still haven't found anyone from the orchestra? Or have you had no time for that, with your new repertoire on the cymbals?"

His voice was loud, and everyone at the table turned their attention to her for a few moments. Delia felt her face flush slightly, but she tried not to show it and sat down at the table without a word.

However, as soon as she picked up the spoon, Emily, her neighbor, suddenly pushed her plate away with a loud snort. She had an expression on her face as if she had encountered something extremely unpleasant.

"I don't want to sit next to her!" she blurted out, and all eyes in the dining room turned to Delia. "Why did you even sit so close? I won't sit next to that... her!"

Without hiding her displeasure, Emily demonstratively placed her bowl of soup on the table at the other end, literally turning her back to her. Everything in her behavior indicated that she was ready to argue about this topic to the last. The faces around her instantly froze, and Jerome, sitting opposite, watched what was happening with surprise and a slight grin.

"Look, she looks like she just crawled out of the coffin," he suddenly said so that everyone could hear. "Like a living corpse, to be honest. You don't know how to talk to her - it's like she's straight out of the grave."

Carlton, sitting next to him, chuckled slightly and added:

"Well, that's normal. All newbies are like that, at first. But that doesn't mean they always stay that way. Don't worry, cutie, you'll get used to it."

His tone was supposedly sympathetic, but his eyes sparkled with the same playful mockery as Jerome's. All this caused a strange emptiness inside Delia. She tried to remain calm, not to respond to their provocations, but she felt irritation rising.

"She's probably just an introvert," one of the girls sitting next to them commented. "Look at her - she's always buried in herself. Even when people talk to her, it's like she lives in her own head, like she's on some other planet."

"Oh, so we have a grump here too!" Jerome laughed. "Listen, don't worry, girl! We'll all accept you, just don't be like... well, like now. Everything will be fine when you get used to our cheerful companies."

Everyone except the silent Jo joined in this stream of words. Even Carlton joked further, winking at Delia:

"Are you really coming with us? Or are you going to disappear for dinner like some kind of ghost?"

Delia lowered her head, trying to avoid their gaze, and suddenly the dining room went silent as a large young man who had been sitting by the window rose from his seat. He walked toward Delia with an impassive expression, and the air was filled with tension, as if something was about to happen.

"Oh, Ryan, you're right on point!" Jerome's mocking voice rang out. "Hey, we were all wondering if she was a ghost, so maybe you should check? It seems kind of... well, weird. Maybe we're all living in some kind of parallel world here?"

The others giggled and nodded as Ryan slowly approached Delia and, without saying a word, leaned over and casually pinched her chubby cheek. Delia jerked back, feeling a sharp sense of hurt, and everyone in the dining room burst into loud laughter.

"Aha!" Jerome shouted, looking at Ryan with admiration. "She moved! That means she's alive! And we thought she was just walking around here like a ghost, paranormal phenomen!"

"Come on, Ryan, let's face it, she's definitely not a ghost!" Carlton added, laughing. "If she were, she wouldn't have flinched, right?"

Laughter echoed throughout the room, and Delia felt her face flush with shame again. At this point, Emily, who seemed to have been waiting for a convenient moment for a long time, stood up and looked at Delia with a sly smile.

"So, how are you, 'ghost,'" she said with a venomous mockery in her voice. "Do you think everything will be fine if you sit in the corner and keep quiet, like some sullen shadow? Maybe you are that shadow, who is incapable of human communication, and anyway, you are not real, are you? Just a fake.

Delia's breath caught for a moment when she heard this, but suddenly, flutist Jo stood up abruptly, wiping his hands on a napkin, and walked toward the table where Emily and her supporters were sitting. There was a sharp, tense expression on his face.

"Emily, stop it," he said, his voice firm and his eyes flashing with displeasure. "Are you crazy? Who are you poisoning? This is just not fair."

Emily paused for a moment, looking at him in surprise, but Jo didn't give her time to respond. He continued, not hiding his anger:

"If you don't have enough brains to understand that Delia is just different and has her own reasons for keeping quiet, then that's your problem, not hers! No one is obliged to be the way you want them to be. I can't believe you can even act like little children. Let's all be adults and at least respect each other, and not pull these stupid stunts!"