The gates of Aurelian Academy weren't just made of iron; they were made of arrogance. Gold-leafed and towering, they separated the "Royals" of the city from the rest of the world.
Yuna Vane adjusted her heavy, black-rimmed glasses. Her oversized grey hoodie swallowed her frame, and her bangs were cut long enough to hide her eyes. She looked like a shadow—easily ignored, easily stepped on.
"Move it, Scholarship Girl," a voice sneered.
A red Ferrari engine roared behind her. Yuna didn't flinch. She didn't even turn around. She simply stepped two inches to the left—exactly the distance needed for the car to swivel past without touching her.
The car screeched to a halt. Out stepped Jaxon Thorne.
He was the definition of "lethally handsome." His blazer was custom-tailored, his hair perfectly messy, and his eyes held the cold boredom of someone who owned everything he looked at.
"I'm talking to you," Jaxon said, walking toward her. "The sidewalk is for students. The gutter is for people like you. Which one are you confused about?"
The surrounding students—the elites of Class S—snickered. They waited for the "Charity Case" to stutter or cry.
Yuna looked up. Behind those thick glasses, her eyes were like frozen steel, but she kept her voice soft. "I was looking at the gate, Mr. Thorne. It's misaligned by 3.2 degrees. It's going to collapse in about... four seconds."
Jaxon paused, a smirk forming. "Are you crazy? This gate cost—"
CRACK.
With a deafening groan of metal, the massive left wing of the gold-leafed gate snapped from its hinge, slamming into the pavement exactly where Jaxon had been standing a moment ago. If he hadn't stepped forward to bully her, he would have been crushed.
Silence fell over the academy entrance.
Yuna didn't stay to watch his reaction. She slung her worn backpack over her shoulder and walked past him.
"Check the bolts next time," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "And Jaxon? Your fly is unzipped."
Jaxon froze, his face turning a shade of red no one had ever seen before. He watched her retreating back, his heart racing—not from the near-death experience, but from the realization that for the first time in his life, someone had looked at him and felt... absolutely nothing.