headache; A new problem

Both Emma and Noah approached slowly, their expressions unreadable and tense, as though they were unsure of how to break the news they carried.

Alexander turned to them sharply. "What now?"

Emma hesitated, her hand trembling slightly before handing him another phone. "We found something else. One more chat."

His fingers gripped the phone tightly as he unlocked it and opened the latest exchange. This one was just between Selene and Anurag. What he read next made his blood boil.

[Selene: Your sister is sooooo cute! I wish I had a sibling like her.]

[Anurag: Haha, she likes you too. She says you're the prettiest girl ever.]

[Selene: Aww, that's adorable. And you're not too bad yourself. ;)]

A chill surged up Alexander's spine, only to be immediately replaced by a rising, uncontrollable heat in his chest. His head began to throb, blood roaring in his ears. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening with rage. His jaw tensed to the point of pain.

Not too bad yourself?

The phrase echoed in his head, sharp as knives and poisonous in implication. That flirty undertone, the playful exchange—it was more than just casual friendship. It was familiarity, warmth, intimacy. All things Selene had never extended toward him.

The system inside him stirred lightly, a faint pulse at the back of his consciousness, as if it sensed his emotional turmoil. But it remained silent, observing.

He handed the phone back to Emma, his face a mask of cold detachment, though the fire in his eyes betrayed the storm within.

The headache that had begun moments earlier now pressed against his temples with unbearable intensity. It wasn't just the betrayal. It was the absurdity—the mockery of it all. He, the heir of a hidden empire, reduced to feeling like a footnote in someone else's joke. Like a jester in a play where everyone else was in on the punchline.

His breath grew heavier. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady himself, but the emotional storm raged inside him, clouding every coherent thought. It all felt surreal. But within that fog, there was one thing he craved—structure. Order. Routine. A lifeline.

Something to focus on.

His eyes lowered as a bitter chuckle escaped him, the corners of his lips curling without humor.

"Internships begin next week," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

The university had granted a week's time to secure placements and prepare. Alexander had already secured his effortlessly through Hectare, the tech branch of Red Hart. He didn't need to lift a finger. And yet, the thought gave him no satisfaction. Instead, it left him feeling more hollow.

Standing idle would only give space to the madness inside. He needed to act. To move. To drown it out.

The university was technically on a break, but voluntary classes were still being held for those who wished to attend. He made his decision silently. A part of him hoped that the familiarity of academia, the structure of lecture halls, could serve as a temporary sanctuary.

Without another word, he turned and walked back toward the university.

The sun beat down gently on the pavement as he walked, its warmth in stark contrast to the turmoil inside him. The campus, usually buzzing with energy, now lay in a half-slumber. The corridors were quiet, footsteps few and far between.

As he entered the mostly empty building, his footsteps echoed softly. Few students were around; most had taken the opportunity to relax or travel. The classroom he entered had only five students seated. Yet, among them, she sat—Selene. Her eyes didn't even flick toward him. It was as if he didn't exist.

Invisible.

Alexander's chest tightened, but he said nothing. His face remained unreadable, his pace steady. There was no room in his heart for such emotions anymore. They had been burned away, reduced to ashes.

And then he saw him.

Deenal.

The name alone was enough to make Alexander's brows lower ever so slightly.

Deenal was a year younger, yet here he was, in the same university, walking the same halls with an effortless grin. Smart, yes—Alexander could never deny that. But Deenal's intelligence was draped in charm and wrapped in a smile that too many people found disarming. Especially girls.

Their history was long and tangled. Frenemy barely scratched the surface. Deenal had always leaned closer to the side of "enemy," especially with his uncanny talent for making Alexander lose face in public. Every time, it appeared innocent. A misplaced joke. A clever comment. A backhanded compliment. But they always struck their target, leaving Alexander humiliated in front of others while Deenal played the fool.

It wasn't just schoolyard rivalry. It was years of subtle jabs, all wrapped in innocence. And perhaps worst of all, it worked. Deenal's mother had once taught at their old school. She had eyes only for her son, favoring him so blatantly that it soured every interaction Alexander had with her—and by extension, her child.

Today, Deenal wore that same smug expression. Something about it felt more pointed than usual. And it didn't take long to see why.

A small group of students nearby whispered excitedly. Word had spread fast. The university had managed to secure permission from NASA for a special visit to their upcoming launch facility. A rare chance—a coveted one. First-year science students were the primary beneficiaries. And somehow, Deenal was the one responsible for making it happen.

He wasn't distributing the tickets, but it was his connections that had opened the door. Pulled strings. Nudged the right people. It wasn't clear how, but Deenal had become the reason for the opportunity.

NASA?

How the hell did Deenal get that kind of pull?

Alexander's mind whirred. Deenal had no family ties that reached those circles. Not to his knowledge, anyway. Could it have been favors? Secret alliances? Hidden benefactors?

The thoughts spiraled, but he pulled himself back. Not now. This wasn't the time.

He walked over quietly, signed his name onto the list with careful precision, and made his way to the back of the room, eyes scanning the seated students.

Selene still hadn't looked at him. Even in a room with only a handful of people, she made no effort. No glance. No acknowledgment.

That hurt, more than he wanted to admit. But he didn't let it show.

He couldn't afford to.

And then, the professor entered.