The bar's background noise, the murmur of conversations, the clinking of glasses, and the faint smell of tobacco, had long become routine for Isaac.
Behind the counter, he moved like someone who'd done this a thousand times, precise and calm, detached from the chaos around him.
A blonde girl staggered toward the bar, her eyes glazed from too many drinks.
"Hey… you're Isaac, right?"
Isaac offered his usual polite smile. "Yeah. What can I get you?"
"Nothing, I'm leaving," she said, leaning on the counter. "It's just that… I remember you. A friend of mine wants to take some pictures of you."
Isaac blinked, unsure. He couldn't tell if she meant the kind blue-eyed one, or the redheaded maniac. "I see. Not really my thing," he said kindly, but with finality.
Claire smiled anyway, she could read people easily, and Isaac wasn't the type who said "maybe" when he meant "no." Still, she reached into her purse and pulled out a small card."You should give it a shot. Here's my number, just in case you change your mind."
She left without another wordIsaac sighed. He wasn't going to change his mind. The idea of his face being anywhere public made him uneasy, especially now, with his mother's passing still so fresh. He slipped the card under the bar and went back to work.
"Hey, Isaac, you can go home early. I'll close up," his coworker called.
He didn't hesitate. The empty late-night bus back to campus was his favorite part of the day —quiet, anonymous, peaceful.
In his dorm, the only light came from the computer screen reflecting on his tired face. He scrolled through his inbox absently.
Project SubmissionYour Assignment Has Been GradedTemporary Suspension of Scholarship
He read it twice, trying to make sense of the words."What the—?" he muttered under his breath, frowning.
It was too late to contact anyone, but he promised himself he'd go to the financial office first thing in the morning.And he did.
The next day was a blur of waiting rooms and vague answers.No one knew who had requested the suspension or why. The only thing the woman at the desk could tell him was that the case would be "reviewed internally."Until then, his scholarship was officially frozen.
Isaac wasn't the type to panic, even now. His calm was almost unnerving. But beneath that quiet, the reality was cruelly simple: without that scholarship, he couldn't afford to stay.
During his first class, which he arrived late to after working a morning shift, his notebook filled not with lecture notes, but with numbers.Tuition. Meals. Dorm fees. Supplies.Everything added up, and the total was impossible. His salary from the bar barely covered groceries, and asking his father for help wasn't an option. The man already carried too much.
Outside the classroom, Kegan was waiting, arms crossed against the wall."I called you three times," he said with a teasing grin. "Ignoring me now?"
"I'm in trouble," Isaac answered simply, walking past him.
Kegan blinked, surprised. Isaac was usually composed, even playful in his own quiet way, but today, his voice carried weight.
In the calm of the campus garden, Isaac told him everything. Kegan listened, shocked. He offered a few ideas, but none that solved the real issue. His family had money, yes, but not the kind that could patch a hole that big.
Isaac tried everything. He withdrew small savings, sold a few crypto assets he'd been holding, and started showing up at the bar earlier and leaving later, sacrificing his classes for extra pay.By the time he got back to the dorm, dawn was breaking. He collapsed onto the bed fully dressed, too exhausted to care.
It was useless.Even a month of pay wouldn't cover a fraction of MTM's tuition.And still no word from the financial office.
When he woke later that day, his head throbbed."Thirty-nine degrees," he muttered after checking the thermometer. Fever.
He took some medicine and let the dizziness take over. His life had become an endless loop of work, fatigue, and uncertainty. The only advantage was that exhaustion had cured his insomnia.
"You've been really out of it lately," said Sarah, his coworker, one night.
Isaac forced a faint smile. "Let's just say I have a rather… expensive problem to fix."
"What happens if you don't?"
"I'd have to go back to Nevilton," he replied simply. "And lose a semester."
Sarah gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "You'll figure it out."
They went back to work in silence. By closing time, Isaac was the only one left cleaning up.As he mopped the storage room floor, something small caught his eye —a damp card half-stuck under a crate. He picked it up.
Claire's card.
He turned it over in his hand, considering it.Maybe… this could work.
He looked at the clock. "She's probably asleep," he murmured, tucking it into his jacket.
Outside, the winter air hit him like a wall. He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and headed home through the empty streets, the city lights blurring in the fog.
When the sun rose, he made the call.
Claire arrived almost immediately, far too awake for that hour.
She sat on the small couch he pointed to, while Isaac remained standing across from her.The dorm was spotless, too clean for someone who barely slept.It smelled faintly of cinnamon and coffee, and the gentle warmth from the heater gave the space an oddly peaceful atmosphere.
MTM's dorms were well-designed: a cozy living area with a sofa, TV, and kitchenette, separated by a sliding wooden door from the bedroom beyond. Everything in Isaac's space was tidy, functional, and perfectly balanced, like him.
Claire couldn't help but notice how different he looked here.No lab coat, no uniform, just loose clothes, hair slightly tousled, eyes tired but calm. Maybe it was the quiet lighting, or maybe the privacy of being in his own space, but he looked even more handsome than before.Focus, Claire, she scolded herself silently.
"Well," she said, flashing a confident smile, "I'm guessing you called because you decided to do the photoshoot, right?"
Isaac nodded, his tone serious but not cold."I need the money," he said plainly. "So I'll do it. But I should warn you, I have no idea how any of this works."
Claire froze for a second.The… money?Her mind raced. Ethan had never mentioned payment, but she wasn't about to ruin this rare opportunity by correcting him.
Of course!" she said, voice a little too bright, standing quickly. "Don't worry, my friend Ethan's handling everything. You just… bring that pretty face."
The last part slipped out before she could stop herself.
Isaac didn't react, didn't even blink. He simply tilted his head slightly, unimpressed."Right. So, how much are we talking about?"
Claire blinked, panic flickering behind her polite smile, his golden eyes felt like they could see straight through her. "Well, that depends on what… uh… he offered you. You know, him."
"Dante," Isaac filled in, raising an eyebrow.
"Exactly! Dante," she said quickly, trying to sound casual. Damn it, Dante. Ethan never mentioned paying him!
Isaac crossed his arms."He didn't give me a number. Just said he'd pay well."
Claire let out a short, nervous laugh and started inching toward the door."Perfect! I'll, uh, check with the photographer —my friend Ethan— and let you know, okay?"
Before he could answer, she was already halfway out."Stay alert for my call! Byeee!" she chirped, slipping out and closing the door behind her with a comically swift motion.
Isaac stood there for a moment, staring at the door, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing as the faintest smirk tugged at his lips.
"That group is… strange," he murmured to himself before sitting on the edge of his bed.