The soft chime of the bell rang, delicate yet final, and I wondered if it was signaling the end of lessons. Mr. Leonard, the tall, suited Mathematics teacher who carried himself with the calm authority of someone who had taught at elite schools all his life, paused mid-sentence. He had been explaining Equations, his voice patient and clear, breaking each formula down as though he truly wanted us to understand.

With a flick of his hand, the glowing smartboard erased the presentation, and the gold light dimmed. I admired him quietly, he was different. He wasn’t intimidated by this school’s heirs, though his eyes still flickered toward them with a kind of wary caution.

I turned, stealing a glance at the two boys everyone whispered about. Nicholas Dale, the red-haired one, didn’t care in the slightest, his fingers scrolling over his phone screen without guilt. Lucas Dale, his dark hair falling naturally over his forehead, the permanent frown on his face making him look older, colder.. He leaned back lazily in his chair, arms crossed, headphones still in, his gaze lost somewhere beyond the classroom walls. But every now and then, his piercing eyes cut toward me, and when they did, my stomach tightened.

I tried to distract myself by packing up my things. The notebook I’d bought with my mother yesterday slipped neatly into my schoolbag. At least I had notes to show for my first day. Still, I had no clue where the hostel was located or how to get there. My feet ached, and the air-conditioned classroom felt colder with each second of silence.

Most students had already left, their designer bags slung over their shoulders. Some glanced my way as if I didn’t belong. When I turned again, Lucas was still there, sitting as though he owned not only the desk but the very air around him. My palms grew damp. Why had he been staring at me for so long?

Nicholas eventually left, striding through the stares that followed him, the red dynasty crest glinting proudly on his bag. Strangely, the twins showed no acknowledgment of each other at all, as though they weren’t brothers, much less twins. That unsettled me.

A sudden beep vibrated through my phone, but before I could check the screen, a deep, commanding voice interrupted my thoughts.

“You’re in my way.”

I froze. My heart slammed painfully against my ribs as I turned.

Lucas Dale stood in front of me, tall, intimidating, unreadable, his face sculpted with that same natural frown. His flawless skin was pale, untouched, as though the sun itself had never dared mark him. I froze, staring. He was… breathtaking. For a fleeting moment, I forgot how to breathe.

“Are you daft?” His voice was low, sharp enough to slice through me.

Blinking, I quickly shifted aside. There were other paths he could have taken, but no, he chose mine.

My pride wanted to argue, but the truth was simple: he owned this school. If I wanted to survive here, I couldn’t afford trouble. The students who remained stared at us as though Lucas were some dangerous storm they feared to provoke. With a roll of his eyes, he walked past me without another word.

Danger. That’s what he was. Trouble I couldn’t afford, not when my uncle Josiah had sacrificed so much money to get me admitted here. I wouldn’t risk disappointing him, my mother, or Bella.

When the classroom finally emptied, I lingered only a moment, staring at the sleek smartboard, now dark, before stepping out into the wide hallways. Students passed, chattering, their laughter echoing. A group of tall girls in neat uniforms whispered as I overheard one name: Lucas Dale. My stomach twisted. Already, his name traveled like wildfire.

The hallway opened to the school’s exterior, where gleaming luxury cars lined the driveway like jewels under the sun. I searched desperately for a friendly face, someone approachable. But everyone was lost in their phones, their friends, or their own worlds.

So I walked.

The grounds stretched endlessly, the roads bordered with manicured gardens. At the east, fountains rose like crystal towers, water glittering as though diamonds poured from the sky itself. I stopped, breath caught in my throat. The spray of water danced in the sunlight, a sight so surreal it felt more like a scene from a royal palace than a school. I couldn’t help myself, I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture. The angle was perfect, the moment eternal.

Everything here was perfect. Almost too perfect.

Scrolling further, I took more shots: the trimmed lawns, the impossibly wide tiled roads so polished I could have walked barefoot without gathering a speck of dust. Even a selfie near a towering marble sculpture, a piece of art no blog had ever mentioned, because it seemed too unreal to belong to a school.

But my awe turned to frustration when I realized I had been wandering for nearly an hour. Relief struck like lightning when I finally spotted the directional map. West: School Restaurant. North: Teachers’ Headquarters. South: Students’ Hostel.

I groaned. I had been walking in circles.

Dragging my tired feet toward the hostel grounds, I tried to distract myself by answering my girls’ messages.

Tessa: “What do you mean they may hate you now?”

*Sophie, tell us what happened. Did you get into a fight?”

Mia: “Don’t ruin your chance with the Dale twins, Soph! Do you know how wealthy you could be?”

Wealth. Status. That’s what everyone thought about. Not survival. Not the way Lucas’s eyes had pierced me like knives.

Finally, looming before me was the hostel. No, not a hostel, a palace disguised as one.

The massive gates gleamed, opening only when three girls in sleek joggers swiped their cards. The sign above flashed in gold:

DALE’S HIGH HOSTEL – Where Comfort Is Our Priority.

The screens displayed images of the rooms: high-tech suites with chandeliers, velvet curtains, and walls embedded with touch-screens. Not a hostel. A luxury hotel.

My throat went dry.

I trailed behind the girls, swallowing my pride as I asked for directions. They barely looked at me, whispering in their language, their eyes running over me like I was an intruder. Still, one finally pointed me toward the elevators.

Inside, the marble floors glistened like mirrors. The chandelier above stretched so wide it could have belonged in a palace ballroom. I stood there, rooted, whispering, “Wow.”

The elevator doors slid open, cool air wrapping around me. My reflection stared back at me in the polished steel.

Hostel B, I told myself. Find Hostel B.

The system scanned my face, my details flashing across a holographic screen:

Sophie Anderson. Hostel B.

A warm female voice greeted me: “Welcome, Miss Anderson. What may I offer you today?”

“Directions to Hostel B,” I replied breathlessly.

“West corridor. Last door.”

Following the instructions, I passed heavy dark doors, each more intimidating than the last. Finally, I reached the end of the corridor. My heart thudded. What if my roommate hated me? What if she was worse than everyone else.

I twisted the knob gently. To my shock, it opened.

And there she was.

A girl sat on the bed, legs crossed, her eyes swollen from crying, her nose red. But what froze me wasn’t her tears.

It was the stack of photographs in her lap, photos of Lucas Dale. Each one marked with furious red pen, lines slashed over his face.

Her head snapped up, and our gazes locked.