Zara Adewale hated noise, drama, and boys with Instagram hair. Unfortunately, the University of Vanteer had all three in high supply.
She adjusted her glasses and lugged her suitcase up the dormitory stairs, her breath short and her forehead sticky with sweat. Her tiny dorm room awaited her on the third floor—a glorious little cell of peace, books, and zero chaos. That's all she needed this semester. No distractions. No drama. And definitely no campus crushes.
Mimi, her roommate and official chaos ambassador, burst through the door just as Zara dropped her suitcase.
"Girl! You will not believe who just enrolled in our school!"
Zara groaned. "If it's another influencer who thinks college is a content house, I swear I'll drop out."
Mimi's eyes sparkled like she'd just found Naira in her old jeans. "No, no. This is different. A real celebrity. Like music-award-level famous. Guess."
"I'm not guessing." Zara opened her locker and began stacking her novels. Jane Austen, Chinua Achebe, Colleen Hoover—her trinity of escape.
Mimi flopped onto the bed. "Adrian Ryder. AKA Ace Ryder. The guy with the voice that sounds like melted chocolate and heartbreak. He's here. On this campus. Enrolled. As a student. Breathing same air as us."
Zara blinked. "Who?"
Mimi sat up, scandalized. "Zara, you live under a rock made of textbooks. You've seriously never heard of him?"
Zara shrugged. "If he's not on my exam syllabus, he doesn't exist."
Mimi dramatically rolled over. "I pray your taste in men improves."
Zara snorted. "I don't have a taste in men. I have a taste in sanity."
---
Later that evening...
Zara stepped out to get snacks from the campus shop. As she exited the building, she bumped—hard—into a tall figure wearing a hoodie, sunglasses, and an unnecessarily smug expression.
"Watch it," she muttered, rubbing her shoulder.
He tilted his head, lowering his sunglasses just enough to meet her eyes. "You ran into me, you know."
"Oh, my bad. I forgot I'm supposed to bow when Mr. Hoodie decides to walk like he owns the pavement."
He grinned. "Feisty."
Zara stared at him. He was... annoyingly attractive. Sharp jawline. Dimpled smirk. And hair that definitely screamed 'I use a leave-in conditioner.'
"Are you done?" she asked, stepping aside.
"Actually," he said, sliding his sunglasses back on, "I think we'll be seeing each other again."
"Pray we don't."
With that, Zara walked off, heart thumping—but from irritation. Obviously.
---
Meanwhile...
Ace Ryder peeled off his hoodie the second he stepped into his temporary dorm. The room was plain. A bit small. But it was his—no stage, no screaming fans, no cameras. Just a bed, bookshelves, and—unfortunately—lectures.
Jake, his manager-turned-temporary-campus-handler, dropped his duffel on the bed. "You sure about this, Ace? Hiding on a uni campus to escape drama?"
"I'm not hiding," Ace said, stretching. "I'm taking a break. From tours, the media, and fake friends."
Jake raised an eyebrow. "Okay, Zen Master. But remember—low profile. No singing in public. No freestyling in lectures. No fan selfies. And for the love of your career, no girls."
Ace smirked. "Define 'girls.'"
Jake groaned. "I'm too old for this."
As Jake left, Ace opened the window, letting the evening breeze hit his face. It felt... real. Quiet.
Then he remembered her—the girl who bumped into him. No makeup. Sharp tongue. No clue who he was.
Ace grinned. He liked her already.
---
Back in the dorm...
Mimi screamed as Zara told her about the hoodie guy.
"Wait—what did he look like?!" Mimi asked, eyes wide.
"I don't know. Tall, annoying, arrogant. Sunglasses at night. Typical Lagos boy energy."
Mimi slowly pulled up a photo on her phone. "Did he look like... this?"
Zara squinted. "Kinda. Who's that?"
Mimi's jaw dropped. "That is Ace Ryder! That's who you bumped into!"
Zara blinked. Then laughed. "Sure, Mimi. Because a literal celebrity has nothing better to do than stroll around our broke university with sunglasses like a telenovela villain."
Mimi held her phone up to Zara's face. "Mark my words, girl. That was him."
Zara rolled her eyes. "If that's true, then may God help him. I'm not interested."
But later, when she lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, Zara had to admit...
That guy's smile?
It kind of lingered in her head .