A few days later, the photos were everywhere. Across Westwood, RickTentation had turned Isaac's face into a sensation.It was a huge magazine, way bigger than he'd ever imagined. He'd never cared about fashion and didn't really grasp the impact of a few pictures. Besides, his mind was on something else entirely: the scholarship.
No one ever gave him an explanation. After a month, the scholarship was simply reactivated, with a bland apology attached. Isaac wasn't the type to demand answers, but this time, he needed one. Nothing guaranteed it wouldn't happen again, and for someone as disciplined as him, that uncertainty was unbearable.The stress he'd been carrying for weeks was about to break through.
Isaac, sat in the second row, half-focused on the equations sprawled across the board. His notebook was open, though the neat rows of formulas had turned into meaningless scribbles.
The sudden buzz of his phone broke the quiet hum of the projector. He rarely received calls during class, and even less from that number. When he glanced at the screen, his chest tightened. Dad.
He sounded confused; he'd seen Isaac's face all over the internet and in magazines, flooded with comments. Most were good, but the shock was obvious.
"Are you… a model now or something?" he asked, half curious, half concerned.
Isaac sighed. Shit… I should've told him. I forgot.
"No, Dad. It was just a job. I needed the money," he admitted softly, a little embarrassed. Not because of the photos themselves, but because of the timing. They were still mourning his mother, and he knew how strange it must've felt for him.
"Money? Is everything okay, son?" his father's voice grew more worried.
Isaac couldn't keep lying, so he told him everything. He knew it would only make his dad worry more, but at least he was being honest.
"Wow… you should've told me, Isaac. I could've helped you," his father said gently, warmth in his tone.
"I'm sorry, Dad," Isaac said quietly. "You know how much I respect Mom… it still hurts." His voice cracked before his father cut in softly.
"Your mother would've understood, son. And besides… you look really handsome in those photos."
A small laugh echoed through the line, and Isaac couldn't help but smile too.
He didn't know why he hadn't told him sooner. His dad had always been understanding. Maybe it was the exhaustion, the pressure. But for the first time in weeks, he felt lighter.
The scholarship was back.The money from the photoshoot had gotten him through the month, even left him a bit to spare. But when he unlocked the door to his dorm, a sharp pain shot through his back.He froze for a moment before another wave hit harder, and everything went black.
When he woke up, the white hospital light stung his eyes. His father and Kegan stood nearby, both looking worried.
"Isaac, how do you feel?" his dad asked with a tired smile.
Isaac blinked around the room before looking back at him."What happened?"
"You passed out," his father explained. "The doctor said it was stress. You need to rest, son."
"Yeah, Isaac!" Kegan cut in, frowning as he stepped closer. "You work nonstop and barely sleep. You're killing yourself."His tone tried to sound playful, but the worry was obvious.
"I'm fine," Isaac lied, his voice weak. "Just overworked. I'll rest more." But even he didn't believe that. Westwood was expensive, and MTM's tuition wasn't cheap. If anything went wrong with his scholarship again, he'd have to drop out.
On the fourth floor of MTM, Dante Black sat by the tall windows, sipping tea as the city lights faded into dusk. He wore a beige shirt, half unbuttoned at the collar, and dark pants; his red hair fell messily over his forehead. He had returned only a few hours earlier, without telling anyone. His time at the Black family mansion had left him completely drained. Now, sitting there, he just wanted to think about nothing at all.
A familiar voice broke the quiet.
"Dante?" Claire's tone was a mix of surprise and irritation as she walked closer.
He looked up, that trademark smirk already in place."The one and only," he said, shrugging without getting up.
Claire frowned and gave his shoulder a light smack. Her eyes shimmered, on the verge of tears."You idiot! Do you have any idea how much I missed you? When did you get back?"
Dante chuckled, softer this time."A few hours ago. Was just eating before letting you guys know."
Right then, Ethan burst into the cafeteria, glowing with excitement. He was so full of energy he didn't even notice Dante at first.
"I got a temporary contract with RickTentation! As a photographer!" he announced, eyes gleaming.
"For real?" Dante said, standing to hug him. "That's amazing."
Ethan blinked, then frowned. "Wait—when did you get here?"
"Now you notice," Dante teased, laughing as he clapped his back. "Congrats, man."
Claire beamed. Any reason to celebrate was a good one for her, especially this. She immediately proposed a small get-together at her apartment downtown, a little reunion among friends. Of course, she invited Isaac too. They'd gotten along surprisingly well since the shoot, even kept in touch. And when she found out he'd been in the hospital, she showed up with flowers and gifts.
"The doctor says it's just stress," she said with a grin. "A little party will fix that."
Isaac, already feeling better, couldn't say no. No one could ever say no to Claire.
That night, her apartment looked stunning, minimalist yet warm, the kind of space that felt like a movie set. Soft lights, mellow music, a few close friends chatting and laughing.
Isaac arrived with Kegan, dressed simply in a gray sweater and dark trousers, that quiet composure of his intact. The vibe was easy, light. They drank, joked, and played one of Claire's drinking games, which, unsurprisingly, she and Kegan dominated. Watching them made Isaac smile, they were too similar, maybe that's why he liked her so much.
"I'm gonna grab a smoke," Isaac said, heading for the balcony.
The city spread out below, small and glittering.The smoke from his cigarette drifted away with the cold breeze. Somewhere far above, the sky hinted at snow.
"Looks like it might snow tonight," said a voice behind him. Ethan stepped out, smiling, his blue eyes glinting under the moonlight.
Isaac glanced sideways, returning a faint smile, his face still unreadable."Ethan. Didn't hear you come out."
"I just wanted to thank you for the photos. They turned out amazing and—"
A third voice cut him off.Dante's. The redhead appeared in the doorway, walking toward them with that lazy confidence. His cologne filled the air, woody, expensive, familiar.
"You thank him like he did you a favor," he said smoothly, his green eyes locking onto Isaac's, sharp and territorial.
Isaac didn't even flinch.He turned back toward the skyline, leaning against the railing, cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers. Dante's jaw tightened. He hated that calm—the way Isaac could make him feel invisible without saying a word.
"Honestly, I don't see what the fuss is about," Dante muttered. "The model's… pretty ordinary."
Ethan shot him a warning look, muttering, "Dante, stop it."
Isaac exhaled a thin stream of smoke, his voice steady when he finally answered: "And yet you're the one who paid ten grand for me to pose… or am I wrong?"
He flicked the cigarette away and walked off before anyone could respond. Dante bit his tongue, muttering a quiet curse under his breath.
Ethan smirked and patted his shoulder."You kind of asked for that."
"Shut up," Dante grumbled, heading back inside, pride slightly bruised.
The night went on, music, laughter, glasses half-empty.