Chapter 1

Kaelen's POV

I am not supposed to be here.

Sitting in this stone age dorm room, I can’t help but stare at the bland walls and the generic white paint. The place smells like cheap detergent and stale air, like no one has lived here for ages. It’s pathetic at best, compared to the mansion’s polished marble floors, first class furniture, and the expansive view of the city that greets me every morning. This feels suffocating.

The dorm master said I had to share a room, and I could already feel my blood boiling at the very thought. Damn the stupid rules!

"Kaelen, this is what’s best for you," my father’s voice echoes in my mind. He words are always the only choice I get. Finish college, marry the right girl, take over the family business. No room for mistakes or choices.

I roll my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, but that doesn’t change anything. It’s been decided. There’s no escaping it. The thought of sharing the tiny space and living like some normal college kid irks me. I’ve always had my own space— a private life. But this... I don't do dorms.

The door to the room creaks open, and the guy I’m supposed to live with walks in. I don’t even have to look at him to know exactly what he is. Some nobody from a middle-class family. The kind of person who thinks hard work means a good future, but hasn’t got a clue what it really takes.

I don’t move from my spot at the desk. My gaze however, is fixed on him as he enters, dragging a cheap suitcase and a guitar case on the other hand. He looks… ordinary. I guess I should say, too normal.

Curly brown hair, average height, and the look of someone who’s been through struggles. His jeans are faded, his t-shirt cheap. At least his sneakers are decent but there’s nothing about him that says ‘elite’ or ‘special.’ He doesn’t belong here.

I narrow my eyes. "What is this?" I ask, trying to keep the contempt out of my voice, "You are my roommate?"

He pauses, standing in the doorway. But it’s his face that catches me first. That look. That annoying, smug look. Oh, I remember him. The idiot on a bike from this morning who splashed mud all over me and now, he stands in front of me with that cocky grin on his face like he has no idea what he did. My jaw clenches and my fists tighten, but I hold it in.

"I’m Jordan — Jordan Summers," he says, setting the suitcase down. His voice is low and calm. "I’m your roommate."

I stare at him, disbelief coursing through my veins. The audacity. How could someone like him possibly think we would get along?

"You're here because you won a scholarship," I say, voice dripping with sarcasm. "The dorm master told me. Lucky you."

He doesn’t seem offended by my remark. Instead, he just chuckles under his breath as he steps to his bed.

"Yeah, lucky me," he mutters. There is a sense of calm to him that makes my jaw tighten. Why is he so damn chill? Does he not see that he’s living with someone who’s above him in every conceivable way?

"Listen, I’m not here to make friends," I continue, leaning back in my chair, staring at him. "I’m not here to be your friend, and I sure as hell don’t need your mediocre... energy around me. I was forced to share a room because of some stupid college rule. But if you think you’re going to get cozy here, you’re mistaken."

He doesn’t flinch or even seem intimidated.

"You know," he says, looking at me with a quiet intensity, “You are not the first person to think that way. But you might be the first person who has been this upfront about it which makes you an ass. Surprise, surprise," he adds sarcastically.

I roll my eyes. Who does he think he is?

I get up and walk to the window, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the quiet room. His calmness is starting to get on my nerves. It’s like he doesn’t feel the pressure or understand the expectations that come with being someone like me. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t understand why I hate this, having to be here, stuck with someone like him.

Well, I'm going to make him regret talking to me like that.

"You threw mud on me this morning."

His eyes widen slightly, and then he looks guilty for a split second before his expression hardens.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

I cross my arms, glaring at him, "I remember your face perfectly. The bike, the mud. You did it on purpose.”

He opens his mouth like he’s about to protest again, but then seems to think better of it, letting out a sigh.

"Alright," he says with a shrug after a beat. "Maybe I did. But honestly, I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. I was just trying to get through traffic, and you were in my way."

"Yeah," I scoff. "Because you couldn't avoid a puddle."

He shrugs again. “Guess I wasn’t as careful as I should have been."

"You are going to wash my car as payment," I state, his arrogance annoying me.

"Or what?" he challenges. "You think you are going to intimidate me into being your servant just because you feel you are entitled and somehow superior to me?"

"I am superior to you!" I spit, my eyes flashing with anger.

I’m about to say something more, but before I can, there’s a knock at the door. The dorm master steps in, his face lit up in excitement. I almost huff in annoyance. What does he have to make him that happy?

"Are you boys settling in okay?" he asks. I jump in, about to ask him for a different roommate, one with class or the respect I deserve but Jordan jumps right ahead of me.

"Perfectly, sir!" he flashes him a wide grin. God!

I stare at him for a moment, my frustration bubbling up again as he stares back, as if daring me to do my worst. This is going to be a long, long semester.