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Fortuna Institute is a factory more than a school. It's a machine—a prison—that raises only the best of the best before releasing them into society. The difficulty of the admissions are second to none, and it only increases every year. Entrance into the academy is most feasible during intermediate school or grammar school.

Students move up an escalator system in which they are automatically moved from Fortuna Intermediate Institute to Fortuna Institute when they graduate, grades permitting.

Naturally, lacking students are given a single chance to prove themselves once again before they are immediately suspended.

The Goddess of Fortune has no need for the inferior.

The institution is divided into four main wings; Spring Hall, Summer Hall, Autumn Hall, and Winter Hall. They are the four branches of the school, each with their own classes and set of students.

Spring consists of those specialized in literature, history, and the like.

Summer consists of those proficient in athletics.

Autumn consists of those above average in mathematics and the sciences.

And Winter consists of those with talents in the arts.

Summer and Winter Hall students are generally separated from Spring and Autumn, and their students share few to no courses in common. It is the school's tactic of keeping their students from straying off the path laid ahead of them.

Spring and Autumn are tightly entwined. Our very own (Y/n) White is in Autumn Hall, or more commonly referred to as Autumn Dorm, and her group of friends is sprinkled out across the two. Isla Myers and Lucinda Summers are from Winter, Carmen Parker from Summer, Jasper Reynolds from Spring, and Reese Grayson is, unsurprisingly, also from Autumn.

There is no changing dorms, as there is no escaping from the future.

Students are strongly encouraged to live on campus, and most do, since the dorms are lavish and luxurious for those who can afford the best, or homey and cozy for those who can't. Over 60% of the country's elite hail from Fortuna Institute and then a generation later, send their children to the same school.

Fortune Intermediate Institute to Fortuna Institute, the latter consisting of what the Americans call high school, and then to their final destination, Fortuna University. It is a never-ending cycle the students find themselves trapped in. And the staff do nothing but encourage it. They pride themselves on the world leaders they've produced and famous names they've nurtured.

And they are most proud of this generation, with the four geniuses who've easily surpassed all their predecessors.

First comes Kieran Fujikawa from Spring Hall. Wealthy, charming, clever, and of Japanese and English descent, his poetic prowess and eloquence are second to none. Sly and silver-tongued, he never seems to take things seriously. Or does he?

Second is Leon Matthews from Summer Hall. Rebellious, moody, and of a dark, rugged beauty, he's capable of mastering any sport with ease. And with those skills, shouldn't he be content with his life?

The third is Tristan Knight of Autumn Hall. Cold, calculating, harsh, and with an IQ of 180, last checked five years ago, the so-called "Third Prince" is nothing short of perfect...or so it seems.

And last is Kim Jaehyung, nicknamed "Jay." Quiet, delicate, beautiful, and capable of extraordinary feats with a simple stroke of his brush. He prefers to stay alone and apologizes at any chance given. Is this boy hurting and really as innocent as he seems?

Four boys and one girl and her best friend. No matter how much they kill, manipulate, and deceive to get what they want, there is no escape from Fortuna.

SUMMER:HALL

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Out of the many pleasant sounds (Y/n) enjoyed listening to, the end of the day bell was her favorite. On the outside, the (h/c)-haired girl appeared as emotionless as ever but on the inside, she was jumping for joy.

She began packing up her supplies in a frenzy while Nova watched with amusement dancing in her rosemary eyes. "Slow down or you'll trip, (Y/n)."

"I'd be more than happy to trip if it means I can leave," she said happily. "By the way, we're hanging out at the usual place later. Wanna come with?"

Nova shook her head regretfully. "About that, I can't today," she sighed. "I failed a lab and I have the makeup today with Mrs. Gardner. Maybe some other time." (Y/n) shot her a sympathetic look, fully aware of how harsh the chemistry teacher was.

"That's too bad. See you tomorrow then, Noves."

"Mmm, take care!" Nova chirped. (Y/n) waved goodbye at her friend and hoisting her backpack onto her back, she took off, not before bidding Ms. Florence farewell. She carefully navigated the busy hallways of the school, doing her best to avoid large crowds. And when that didn't seem possible, she tried to avoid touching the other students at all costs.

Close quarters with others taught the girl that many girls at Fortuna Institute enjoyed wearing perfume or scented deodorant. And when there are endless seas of them in one hallway, the stench was overwhelming. Combined with the boys' cologne, (Y/n) was about ready to faint.

"Come this way," a voice whispered into her ear. A set of hands fell on her shoulders and began steering her away just before a stocky boy and his group of friends could knock her over. The girl didn't bother struggling since it would prove futile as the strange steered her in the opposite of the direction of the crowd. Rather than the newcomer assisting her at this point, it was more like he was lifting her up.

They arrived at an empty stairwell at the opposite wing, and only then did her benefactor release her. She turned around to see who they were.

What met her (e/c)-colored eyes were a pair of shockingly vibrant ruby ones peeking out under long lashes that fanned down over his cheekbones. His golden locks fell in natural waves over his eyes that he brushed to the side from time to time. He wore the typical Fortuna Institute uniform, only it appeared looser on him.

'I feel like I've seen this guy before,' (Y/n) mused. 'Uh oh, this is bad. If I'm getting deja vu, that means he's my classmate. I don't want to offend him by saying I don't remember him. I guess I'll have to get him to say his name without him realizing somehow.'

She bowed her head respectfully and then pushed the corners of her mouth up into a friendly smile. "Thank you for your assistance, sunf—um, mister," she thanked him. "I'll be off now. If there's anything I can do for you in the future, don't be afraid to ask."

He didn't look offended, and she let out a relieved sigh. The blond flinched slightly at the girl's steady eyes locked onto his face and returned the boy awkwardly. "Y-yes, it was no problem," he stammered. "I a-also have troubles navigating Summer Hall." He peered up at her shyly. "Y-you looked like you w-were going to fall so I..." Upon seeing the blank look on her face, he immediately assumed the worst.

"I'm so sorry, I got ahead of myself, didn't I?" The boy buried his face into his hands, the tips of his eyes red with embarrassment. "I'm a disgrace. I'm a waste of space, just another piece of trash on the road. I'm sorry I dirtied your uniform with my hands and I'm sorry I'm so stupid! I'm the laughingstock of the entire Kim family!"

Well, that solved the mystery of his name, (Y/n) sweatdropped. "No one called you stupid and you're not a waste of space, Kim," she tried consoling him. "I think you're a really nice person for helping me out before I could end up in the hospital again. Thanks again."

"R-really?" Kim wiped a tear from his eyes. "I-I wasn't useless?"

She shook her head. "Nope! You really helped me!" 'I talked so much today...my throat hurts...'

The blond smiled happily at her as he fiddled with the sleeve of his white jacket. "That's good. I'm glad I was able to help someone. And um, one more thing..."

"What is it?"

"My name isn't Kim," he said with a small smile. "It's Jaehyung."

"..." (Y/n) stared at the boy in silence for a few seconds before letting out a long sigh. "Sorry," she said finally. "I'm not good with faces or names—"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jaehyung cried again as he bowed his head furiously. "It was too pretentious of me to give you my name like that! I'm just a lowlife, I'm nothing! I'm so sorry I was born so full of myself!"

"C-calm down!" She blinked rapidly at the display of a taller male apologizing so fervently to her. "No one's calling you any names, sun—um..."

"Jaehyung," he said. "Or Jay."

"...Jay. So don't apologize so much, okay?" The blond nodded and pulled a pastel yellow handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his tears away and returned it to where it came from. 'Sunflower child,' (Y/n) observed seriously. 'Reese is a tomato child. This one's sunflower child. I've met so many strange people today, like zebra and snowman. Gross, people.'

Jaehyun straightened himself to the best of his abilities. "O-oh, I must be taking up your time right now! I-I'm sorry"—she shot him a hard look, making him reword himself—"I mean, I-I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Yesh, see you sun—um, Jay." (Y/n) waved her hand and began dragging herself down the stairwell, leaving behind the delicate blond boy with his hand raised in mid-wave.

Then he realized something. He never got her name now, did he?

CEL:CIUS

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"They're late," Reese scowled as he sipped on his soda. "And they're the ones always complained about how slow we are. Talk about ironic."

The three of them were gathered in one of the booths of the local cafe near their school, Celcius, as they waited for the comic trio to arrive. Tired of waiting, they decided to go ahead and order their drinks and burgers ahead of time.

Jasper laughed softly and popped a french fry into his mouth. "Isla and Lucy have their hands full with choir practice, and Carmen probably has detention again. Give them some time."

"I'm not listening to someone who eats chips with a fork," the redhead raised an eyebrow at his blue-haired friend, who was just about to pick up his hamburger with swathes of napkins.

(A/N: french fries = chips)

Jasper flushed and turned his head to the side as he coughed awkwardly. "Is it really that bad?"

"It is," (Y/n) and Reese chorused.

"The only reason I'm still friends with you," she added. "Is because you haven't reached the point of eating your burger with a fork yet."

"Jas is probably the type to only order the mini burgers on toothpicks if he could," Reese snorted. "And he drinks out of a can of soda with a straw."

The (h/c)-haired girl wrinkled her nose. "Ew, why you gotta be so extra like that, Jas?"

"Why do you two have to shame me like that?" Jasper mimicked their tones. "Is it wrong to not want to get my hands dirty?"

(Y/n) set down her smoothie. "His past life was probably as one of that super chic bourgeois little men who wear monocles and a top hat everywhere they go," she said.

"He probably spends his free time frequenting art museums and taste testing wine," Reese added. He covered his mouth as he tried keeping a straight face. "Imagine being rich. Can't relate." She nodded sagely beside him.

"Do you like the feeling of grease on your skin?" Jasper protested. They shook their heads. "I didn't think so."

"Sorry, but I don't understand rich people problems," (Y/n) said in a sing-song. "And speaking of problems, I have two right now." She pulled out a flyer from her bag. "First of all, Mrs. Richards wants me to get tutoring. Ew. And second of all, I'm super tired right now but Reese made a mess of the table and I don't want to touch it."

The red-haired male's head snapped towards his companion. "How is all this my fault?!"

She ignored him and held out her hand. "Jas, you have a bunch of wipes, right?"

"Of course," the clean freak pulled a pack from his bag and handed it across the table to the (h/c)-haired girl. "Take as many as you need."

"'Kay, thanks." She wiped the crumbs towards Reese's side of the table and promptly plopped her head down into her arms. "G'night."

"And...she's out like a light," Jasper observed as he continued stabbing his fries with his fork. "And Reese, don't sweep the crumbs to the floor. You're creating more work for the staff."

"(N/n)'s the one who pushed it to me," the redhead whined. "Where else am I supposed to put it?"

The said girl raised her head sleepily. "Eat it, trash can." And then she was asleep again.

"Okay, ouch, (N/n)."

"Zzz."

"Rude."

Jasper took the handout from the girl's hands and skimmed over it. "Tutoring? You've never pegged me for the type to take this kind of thing seriously."

"Because I'm not," (Y/n) muttered sleepily. "But Mrs. Richards insisted."

"Then you should sign up," he handed it back to her. "Mrs. Richards is rarely wrong about things like this. If she says you should do something, she always has your best interests at heart." He was met with nothing but a snore. He sighed. "I'll take that as a yes, then. Shall I sign up for you?"

"Zzz."

"Okay..." He pulled out his smartphone and typed in the website. "It's a good thing they accept online applications despite being such an old-fashioned school—"

"That's funny coming from you," Reese sniggered.

"Oh, hush, Reese," Jasper rolled his eyes. "Anyway, if they only accepted paper forms, (Y/n) here would never even consider it in the first place. There, I've signed up. You should be getting an email soon, (Y/n). Be sure to check it."

The said girl lifted her head slightly. "Yes, mom."

"Good girl. Now, what is taking them so long to get here?"

As soon as those words left his mouth, a familiar blonde waltzed in through the door. Lucinda threw a flirty wink at the young cashier before sliding into the booth next to Jasper and rested her head on his shoulder. "What's up, my people?"

The blue-haired male didn't seem to mind her leaning on him, despite being a germaphobe. "Where's Isla and Carmen?"

"Isla had to stay behind to talk to Ms. Dorothy about our upcoming performance," the blonde sighed. "And Carmen—actually, I don't have a clue what that girl's doing. Probably getting high somewhere again."

"Lucinda, please. We know Carmen's never touched a single drug in her life. Not even her meds."

She wrinkled her nose and pulled away. "Gross, stop calling me by my full name," she complained. "Way to be a killjoy, Jas."

"So you're saying they bailed on us?" Reese gasped. "Traitors! Does this mean I'm legally allowed to whoop their—"

"No," Jasper deadpanned.

"Why not?! I should be allowed to smack them for once, especially since freaking plum head abuses me every day!"

"Izzie has a perfectly good reason to," (Y/n) muttered, opening her eyes drearily, wincing from the sharp light that suddenly blinded her. "If you stopped aggravating her, annoying her, being an idiot, having red hair and annoyingly green eyes, she'd have no reason to yell at you."

"Now you're just telling me to erase my entire character!" The redhead cried. "What, should I dye my hair black, wear glasses like Jas, and spend my free time reading? Heck, that's an entirely different lifeform in that picture! Who even is that?!"

(Y/n) shook her head at him as she straightened in her seat and cracked her neck, now sore from her nap. "See? You're doing it again?"

"Doing what?" He asked, confused.

"Being a Reese. Stop being a Reese. It's annoying."

He stared at her for a moment before realization hit him, and he burst into tears. "That really hurt, (N/n)! Why'd you gotta do me like that?"

She threw a napkin at him. "Stop being dramatic. You're loud."

Lucinda threw her handbag at the male. "My ears are hurting from your screeching, for God's sake, Reese. Ferme ta bouche!"

"How about you shut your French a** up," Reese scowled, retreating to his corner of the booth. "Bullies. You're all bullies!"

A typical day within (Y/n)'s friend group, as everyone mercilessly picks on Reese while Jasper looks on without batting an eye. This is true friendship, my dudes. Take notes.

The bell jingled as the door opened, and Carmen rushed in, instinctively heading towards the spot they always sat and plopped herself down next to the (h/c)-haired girl. "You cannot believe what just happened to me," she gushed breathlessly, her eyes wild and face flushed.

Lucinda arched a perfect eyebrow as she fixed her nail polish. "You finally got yourself laid?"

"Y—what, no," the brown-haired girl wrinkled her nose. "I'm not you, Lucy. Anyway, I'm just gonna tell you. Guess who I met in that hallway!"

"Your parents?" Jasper guessed.

"My parents?" Reese said fearfully, his eyes darting from side to side. "Hide me, (N/n)!"

"Reese's better twin?" (Y/n) suggested nonchalantly, drawing an offended gasp from the said redhead.

Carmen shook her head. "No, you idiots! It was obviously Matthews!" Her declaration made even Lucinda look up from her nails to stare at the other girl.

"No f*cking way!" The blonde grabbed Carmen by her shoulders from across the table and shook her. "Please tell me you got his number!"

The girl winced apologetically. "He wouldn't talk to me, much less look at me."

Lucinda groaned and sat back down, picking her nail polish back up. "This is why you're still a virgin," she muttered bitterly. "Girl, what would you do without me?"

"Get expelled," Carmen said seriously, beginning to tick off a list on her fingers. "Go to the arcade, steal Mr. Fitzgerald's stash of beer, shave off the hair Mr. Johnson is so proud of—"

"It was a rhetorical question, Carmen."

"Oh."

(Y/n) looked between the two girls curiously. Then to the brown-haired female, "You got a boyfriend, Carrie?"

"Sometimes I can't tell if you're an idiot or if you're just an airhead," Lucinda giggled. "No, (Y/n). It's a hundred years too early for our Carmen here to get a boyfriend—"

"Hey!" Carmen scowled, offended. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"—And it's a millennium too early for you to start caring about anyone else," she ignored her. "We were talking about Matthews! Remember, from history?"

(Y/n) scrunched up her face in thought. Matthews...Matthews...have I heard that name before? Drawing nothing but blanks, she shook her head.

The blonde sighed. "Of course you don't, even though he was sitting right behind us!" Carmen let out a dreamy sigh before coughing into a fist, embarrassed.

Jasper tapped his chin. "Matthews..." he murmured. "By Matthews, do you mean Leon Matthews, as in the son of that famous politician? The one running for chairman?"

"Yeah!" Carmen brightened. "That old but weirdly handsome dude who's like 'Vote for Matthews! It's a Matter of fact Matthews is to vote for!' and everything. Ha. 'Matter of fact.' I don't know if I should vote for him or laugh at him."

"You're not even old enough to vote," Reese scoffed. "And who'd want a juvenile delinquent to vote for them?"

"Grayson, I swear I'm seconds away from flipping your face inside out."

"Only seconds? I am nanoseconds away from hanging you from the ceiling upside—wait, what are you doing?" His face blanched at the brunette slowly rose to her feet, her amber eyes locked on his emerald ones. "What are you—GYAHH!"

She lunged for him, narrowly missing the emotionless (h/c)-haired girl calmly sipping on her milkshake. "DIE, Grayson!" Carmen shrieked. "I'll dangle YOU upside down! How about that?"

"SAVE ME, JASSSS!"

"Keep the flirting to yourselves, kids!" The store owner called, used to the group's antics. "Got it?"

"Yes," they chorused. "M'bad, boss."

Jasper passed a hand over his face in exasperation and let out a long sigh. "Seriously, you guys," he scolded. "Must you make a scene every time we come here? One of these days we're going to get kicked out."

"I mean," Carmen started. "We've already gotten kicked out once, so there are no surprises there."

"Then how about we make that a one-time thing?"

"You're such a killjoy, Jas. You gotta loosen up a bit! Y'know, have some fun! Life ain't interesting if all you do is follow the rules. Have you ever even drawn on the wall in your childhood or something before?"

His eyebrows dipped into a frown. "No, why would I?"

"Jas is more mature than you even as a kid," Reese snorted, elbowing the brown-haired girl with a mischievous smirk on his face. "What do you have to say about that, Carmen—"

She immediately elbowed him back in his ribs, only with twice the force the redhead had applied. "I'd say go screw yourself, Grayson!"

"OWWWW!"

WHITE RE:SIDENCE

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"(I'm) home..." (Y/n) called sleepily in the loudest voice she could muster as she kicked her shoes off and placed them on the shoe rack. She closed the door and secured the lock and chain, before making her way straight for her bedroom, not expecting an answer to her call.

It has become an unusual habit for her not even the girl herself understood. She'd come home every day to an empty house with the blinds drawn and lights off. The refrigerator was never full, and empty save for a few fruits and a dinner she had prepared in the morning for herself when she returned home.

Sometimes, just sometimes, (Y/n) would find an extra pair of shoes below hers in the shoe rack. Her foster father's, when he finally found the time to come home. Their exchanges were short but heartfelt in the time they did find to meet each other. And it wasn't even like their apartment was big or anything; working almost 24/7, her father spent most of his time at home sleeping or eating.

And then there was her foster mother. She was a kind, hard-working woman who strove to do the best for her family. Her name was Paisley White. Paisley married Aaron White, her boyfriend from college, and hoped to start a beautiful family.

A few years later, a call to the family doctor revealed that Paisley was unable to bear children.

Aaron, being as devoted to his wife and family as he was, proposed a solution to his heartbroken wife; why don't they adopt a child? There must be one that suits them in the system. And that child was (Y/n).

With just one glance at the little girl, Paisley just knew she had to be her daughter, even though she wasn't related to the two of them by blood. The couple raised the girl up, with Paisley working as a nursery school teacher and Aaron as a lawyer. Everything was perfect until Paisley died a few years ago of cancer.

Now the White abode was a lifeless, empty place. No more flowers adorned the windowsills and no more photographs littered the walls. The White residence, wiped clean of all traces of the woman that was once so full of life.

(Y/n) stifled a yawn as she pushed open her bedroom door and threw her bag into a corner. She let herself fall down onto her bed, the soft sheets engulfing her frame easily. She let out a contented sigh at the floral scent of the freshly washed sheets and the soft, silky texture of her comforter and pillow.

Her bed is joy. Her bed is life. Huzzah for sleep.

"Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Baby shark, doo doo doo doo—"

"What the hell, Reese..." (Y/n) growled as she reluctantly flipped herself over and slid off the bed. She groaned and moaned as she dragged herself across her suddenly vast floor to her bag and pulled the buzzing smartphone out. 'That prick...he changed my ringtone again.'

She swiped her screen open—she was never one for passwords; they took too much time and effort—to check her new messages.

'An email?' Curious, the (h/c)-haired girl sat down and leaned back against her pastel pink bed. She tapped on the notification and a series of words popped onto her screen. She grimaced and cringed. 'Ew...words...whatever, it might be important.'

To Ms. (Y/n) White,

Your application to INFORTUNII has been reviewed and accepted. With the recommendation of faculty member Mrs. Darcy Richards, we have paired you successfully with a tutor. Should you accept, please respond to this email by the end of today.

Regards,

Fortuna Institute, INFORTUNII Secretary, Hazel Brooks.

When (Y/n) finished reading, her eyebrows her raised. "So this thing...isn't just an afterschool thing?" She mused aloud. "I thought...it was like a...club. But it's like an organization..." 'Why do they need a secretary for a tutoring group anyway?' Her brain hurt from thinking. 'Oh well, I guess I'll do it. For Cambridge...'

She sighed and pressed the reply button, sluggishly typing in her positive response and setting down her phone. She fell back onto her bed and rolled over, just about to fall asleep again when her phone rang.

"Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo

Baby shark—"

'This song is so annoying!' (Y/n) snatched the offending device off her sheets and glared at it. 'Stupid Reese. I'm going to set your ringtone to one of that laundromat guy's songs...what was his name...Beaver? Blieber? Beeber? I dunno.'

She opened her email to find a reply from the same person. 'Already?' Her mouth fell open. 'Only a few seconds have passed! Ew, imagine actually being motivated at your job. Ha, can't relate.'

Ms. White,

Thank you for your acceptance. We have attached your schedule and your new tutor's contact information in this email, and they too, have been informed. Please contact your tutor immediately if you have any pressing concerns. Your partnership will last for the rest of this school year. We hope to see favorable results.

Regards,

Fortuna Institute, INFORTUNII Secretary, Hazel Brooks.

(Y/n) scrolled down to find a PDF attached to the email. She clicked on it and immediately frowned. According to the timetable, she was to spend one hour after school every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with the tutor, as well as three hours on Saturdays. There were also sessions that overlapped with some of her classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays that lasted for two hours.

The phone fell out of her hands. "T-ten hours e-every day?" She whispered, her face paling. "My sleep...ahhhh..."

She regretted her decision so much.

"What is done is done," crocodile tears slipped down her face. "Let's see...who's my tor—um, tutor?" (Y/n) scrolled down to see a few lines written under the chart.

Tutor name: Tristan Knight

Grade: Year 11

Phone number: 05427 564448

Email: tris.knight11@fortuna.uk