Fred's POV
I woke up this morning with the same knot in my chest as yesterday. That restless, gnawing urge to get rich—it wasn't going away. All night I'd been on my phone, searching every possible way to make money. My first idea was to start a gaming company. But reality hit hard—my family isn't wealthy. I can't gamble what little we have on a dream that might never pay off.
By midnight, I'd decided I needed help. But from who? The only person I trust is Kelvin. He never complains about being broke, always has the latest gadgets, and disappears on weekends like he's got a side hustle nobody knows about. If anyone can point me toward a solid income, it's him. I'll ask after classes today—he'd already left for his morning lecture.
Dragging myself out of bed, I headed to the bathroom. The thought of telling Kelvin I needed help made my pride itch, but I had no other choice.
Kelvin's POV
I left the hostel early, as usual. In my family, punctuality is drilled into us. And besides, showing up early to lectures feels like practice for the future—when I'm running my own company.
I could already see it: my solar energy corporation dominating the U.S. market, my name climbing business charts. The thought made me grin all the way to class.
I set my backpack on the desk, pulled out my notebook, and my phone buzzed. Strange—nobody really texts me except family. I opened the message.
> "Kelvin, tomorrow is your birthday. We suggest you return home for it. We have a surprise for you. Invite friends as well."
I'd forgotten my birthday. Again. Last year, it was Fred who reminded me—at eleven-thirty at night, no less.
I knew I had no choice but to attend. My parents never throw casual parties; there would be business partners, high-profile guests… and possibly an arranged "introduction" to a girl from another wealthy family. Just like they tried with my brother. That didn't work out, but my parents never learn.
I prayed, if that was their plan, that the girl at least be stunning. The rest of the lecture slipped past me as I pictured daughters of the city's elite.
"Hey, man." Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned. Fred. The podium was empty; the lecture had ended.
"Man, I don't know what to do," he said, looking tense. "I need your help."
That surprised me. People don't usually see me as someone to run to for help.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"I need to be wealthy," Fred said, wiping his forehead. "I need to keep my relationship alive."
That one sentence carried a lot of weight.
"So?" I asked, still unsure where I came into the picture.
"My first plan was to start a gaming company, but I have no funding. I thought maybe you could help me find a good job."
"And why do you think I can get you a job?"
Fred hesitated. "I just have this hunch. You never complain about money, and you vanish on weekends. I figured you must have a good side gig or maybe an internship at a big tech firm."
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed again. This time it wasn't my mom—it was Trisha. My heartbeat quickened.
> "Hey, got an invitation to your birthday party tomorrow. I'll be there."
A grin crept over my face.
"Man, you're not even listening," Fred said, frustration seeping into his voice.
"I'm inviting you to my birthday tomorrow," I told him. "I'll introduce you to someone."
Fred's eyes lit up with hope.
"You remembered your birthday this time," he said. "Last year I set an alarm on my phone so we wouldn't forget."
That made me pause. No one outside of my family had ever done something like that for me. Maybe Fred was my only real friend. Which meant… maybe I actually wanted to help him.
Fred's POV
I woke up the next day feeling… lighter. Hopeful, even. I still couldn't believe I'd gone to Kelvin for help, but if his "introduction" turned out to be something big, it would be worth swallowing my pride.
I got up before Kelvin—which was rare—and headed for the shower. By the time I was done, he was already dressed, and he looked surprised to see me up before him.
As I left for class, something felt off. Halfway down the hall, I glanced back. Two men in suits stood outside our room, watching me. I frowned and kept walking, but the feeling stuck. More suited men were scattered across campus—even in the lecture hall.
Why were they everywhere?
Kelvin's POV
Dad had gone too far this time. Sending guards to my school? That was crossing the line.
I stepped into the corridor, pulled out my phone, and called my mother.
"Hey, Mom," I whispered.
"Darling, what's wrong?" Her voice was warm as always.
"What are the guards doing here?"
"How do you know they're here for you?" she asked slyly.
"It's obvious."
"It's your father," she admitted. "He doesn't trust you to show up for your birthday, so he hired them to make sure you come."
Of course. And I'd bet my entire future company that my brother Jason was the one who suggested it.
"Bye, Mom."
As I hung up, I noticed every guard I passed had their eyes locked on me. My pace quickened. Then I started running—only to hear three of them chasing me.