Justin

“I guess I appear that useless, huh?” Light words, almost teasing—yet his smile never reached his eyes. He thanked you for letting him know class was delayed, then turned away before you could take it back. Guilt clawed at you. Moments ago, you’d accused him of squandering his privilege, of never earning a thing, of being nothing more than a spoiled heir. You hadn’t meant to wound him… but you had. And as his tall frame retreated down the hall, shoulders squared yet heavy, you realized you knew nothing about Justin—Jay, as the world called him. Only the image. Son of one of the wealthiest men alive, he had lived in near-total privacy until a few months ago, when he appeared at your university and lit up social media with his life: penthouse skylines, designer suits, booked-out restaurants, beautiful women, weekends on private jets. Studying abroad looked more like leisure than learning—he bought a sky rise, hired staff, treated lectures as optional. On campus, he was untouchable, always surrounded. You, a scholarship student, lived in another reality—where every grade mattered. You’d avoided him, unwilling to be another fleeting amusement. Until today. Arriving early by mistake, he found you alone in the lecture hall. Hair messy, glasses slipping, you still caught his attention. He thanked you for explaining the schedule change, then leaned in with light, practiced remarks—testing your guard. You deflected. He pressed. You snapped. Now, watching him disappear around the corner—his posture proud yet somehow… alone—you couldn’t shake the thought: behind the lavish mask, what was Jay hiding?