Location: Avalon University – Monday Morning, Strategic Psychology
The lecture hall buzzed as students poured in—still hungover, half-awake, and hyped from the Arcadia House party. Everyone was whispering about the same thing:
"Did you see the Vales?"
"Azra roasted Parker's playlist and he thanked her."
"Liora dances like she owns gravity."
"Caelan? That guy's not real."
And yet, as Caelan slid into his seat in the back row—hood up, fingers tapping a pen rhythmically—he wasn't listening.
Because she was already there.
The girl from the party.
No jewelry. No fake smile. No thirst.
She wore a grey hoodie, messy bun, and scribbled in a beat-up notebook like her life depended on it.
Her eyes glanced up once.
Locked with his.
And instead of looking away, she raised a brow—smirking.
Scene: Intellectual Combat
The professor launched into a lecture about psychological warfare and social hierarchy.
"Power is perception," he declared. "You control what people see, you control what they believe."
Caelan leaned back.
She raised her hand.
"Power is intention, not perception," she said smoothly.
"You can fake being in control. But if your mind bends every time someone else blinks, you never really had it."
Heads turned.
Even the professor paused.
Caelan's eyes narrowed, a slow grin forming.
Finally, he thought.
Someone with bite.
Meanwhile: Across Campus – Student Council Hall
Azra strolled into a student council meeting like she was lost—and then sat down like she owned the room.
"I'm not here to play politician," she said, crossing her legs.
"But if y'all want this campus to stop looking like a 2012 Instagram filter, I'm your girl."
A guy across the table leaned in with a smirk.
"Is that a campaign speech?"
"No," Azra said flatly.
"That was a favor. My speeches cost more."
He didn't say another word.
But he watched her the whole meeting.
Meanwhile: Music Hall – Private Studio Room
Liora stood at the center of a rehearsal room, mic in hand, surrounded by instruments and producers prepping for Avalon's prestigious Founders' Gala.
"You're the freshman?" the producer asked, half-skeptical.
Liora gave a little curtsy, her voice sugar-smooth.
"I'll try not to embarrass the legacy acts too badly."
She took the mic.
And when she sang—a stripped down, slowed version of "Wicked Games"—everyone in the room just stared.
No one breathed.
The producer's only words?
"Cancel the opener. She's the opener now."
System Sync – Influence Recalibration
Check-In Complete
– Caelan: Target locked (Emotional Challenge Identified)
– Azra: Campaign Attention Level 2 (3 competitors alerted)
– Liora: Influence Surge (Gala Spotlight Secured)
System Note: "Your power is no longer rumor.
It's becoming ritual."
Final Scene: Courtyard Café, After Class
Caelan sat outside, hoodie still up, sketching mind-maps in his notebook.
The girl from class dropped into the chair across from him without asking.
"You stared at me for an hour."
He didn't look up.
"You stared back."
"I don't get intimidated easy."
Caelan smiled faintly.
"I don't either. Which makes this… interesting."
She extended her hand, eyes daring.
"Sloane."
He shook it.
"Caelan."
Their fingers touched.
And the game officially began.