The sky outside the dorm window was a mess of dull grey clouds. Rain tapped gently on the glass, falling in that lazy way storms sometimes do. Askai sat still in an old chair, the wood creaking quietly each time he moved. He stared out, not really looking at anything—just letting the storm outside match the quiet pressure building in his mind.
Behind him, the room buzzed with voices.
"…what if we unplug the speakers just before it starts? Like, rip out the aux, old-school style."
"That won't do shit. They'll just laugh and plug in another one. You wanna humiliate them."
"Okay, what if we spike the punch with laxatives? Real ones, prescription grade."
"Jesus. That's a lawsuit waiting to happen."
"So? Let him sue. We haven't got anything for them to take anyway."
The boy who said that got a few chuckles, but none of it held weight. Not really.
They had been planning about stirring trouble in a party to be thrown by an elite where people like Askai and them were no more than waiters in casuals.
Elites of the East..
Askai knew too well that they were not to be messed with.
He leaned back, folding his arms. His breath fogged the window faintly, then vanished.
Moreover, he had more pressing matters to attend to. He'd been thinking about moving to campus for weeks.
The numbers didn't lie. Rent with Jordan was bleeding him dry—and Askai had been delaying the payments a lot. Jordan had been shouldering the extra burden for a while now but Askai could not bear to do that to him.
Jordan needed a roommate who could pay and Askai needed a cheap ass place to crash at, while struggling for his degree in law. Campus housing was such a perfect candidate.
It wasn't glamorous. A cot, maybe a shelf. But it was close to the library, and it came with heating. It was cheaper, too. He'd have more time to study. More space to think.
Think about the Lunch prices that had gone up again. Cafeteria lines were long and always ended in disappointment. Seven bucks for a wilted salad was almost criminal!
His day job paid minimum, but the commute was eating into his schedule. He'd missed two classes this week. Property Law and Torts. He couldn't afford to keep slipping.
Law school wasn't for the soft or the scattered. It wasn't for people who couldn't afford the cost of ambition and Askai had made up his mind to see it through. He had wagered a lot on this.
Laughter cut through his thoughts, the sharp, embarrassed kind.
"…and then she tipped me. Like I was one of the waitstaff. Fucking five bucks."
Askai didn't turn. Didn't blink. Just let the words settle.
Another voice jumped in:
"They do it on purpose, man. That whole party was a setup. They invite us so it looks diverse, and then they hand us trays like it's a coincidence."
"They're smart about it. Always plausible deniability."
"And you can't push back. My mom teaches at their cousin's prep school. One complaint and she's on review."
"My dad's contract just got renewed by Langley. Guess who sits on that board? Steve's uncle."
"So we just take it?"
"What choice do we have?"
Askai finally turned from the window. His voice cut through the static of the room—cool, measured, and completely out of sync with the vibe.
"It pays?"
Silence.
Everyone looked at him. A few blinked, unsure if he was mocking the kid or not.
"…Yeah," the boy said finally, a little defensive. "They, uh… they tipped me. Cash."
Askai nodded once. Then stood, smooth and silent like a decision already made.
"Text me the address. I'll go."
He didn't wait for the reaction. He grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, slipped his phone into his pocket, and stepped into the hall.
There were things to pack. He left without hearing what the boys had said or what they said later. He was gone.