The dean's office was a spacious room, with a large wooden desk occupying the center and a bookshelf lining the wall behind it. The dean himself was seated behind the desk, his silverish-grey hair and distinguished features befitting of his position. A glass nameplate on the desk read "S.T Rover," indicating the man who had served as the Dean of the Academy for the past 25 years.
As Rover looked over the scholarship students' files, a knock came at the door. He called out, "Come in," his eyes still fixed on the pages in front of him.
In stepped Asfand, the student council president and senior-most student of the Academy. Despite his nearly silent footsteps, his presence was commanding. He was tall, almost six feet, with long dark hair styled in a bun, and sharp features that gave him an air of mystery. Yet, his soft hazel eyes offered a hint of warmth and kindness.
Asfand approached the dean's desk, bowing his head respectfully. "You called me, sir?" he asked in a calm, serene voice.
"Yes, Asfand," Rover acknowledged, finally looking up. "Here are the scholarship students' files. I want you to review them and assign each student a suitable partner for the Academy." He pushed the stack of files towards Asfand.
Asfand took the files and began to examine them closely, nodding silently as he read through each one. Finally, he looked up at Rover and declared, "I won't disappoint you."
"Good," Rover replied, his tone serious. "Just make sure Mr. Kingston doesn't cause any trouble with them. I trust you understand what I mean."
Asfand nodded, understanding the concern in the dean's voice. "Yes, sir. I'll take care of it." He gathered the files.
With a respectful bow, Asfand left the dean's office, his steps echoing softly in the quiet room. The dean leaned back in his chair, a satisfied expression on his face, knowing that he had chosen the right person for the job.
..................…
In the exclusive VVIP room of the city's most prestigious casino, three young men sat around a table, grinning. The first was Grey Scott, handsome, with auburn-blond hair and dark eyes. He came from a wealthy, aristocratic family and was known for his friendship with King and his tendency to curse at everything.
The second, Archer Slay, had a cunning reputation. His background was murky, though rumors claimed he was the illegitimate child of a notorious mafia boss. The third, Suze Sheldon, was the seventh son of the Sheldon textiles dynasty, one of the most successful fabric companies in the country.
The three of them were growing restless, waiting for King to arrive and liven up the dull evening. "Let's play spin the bottle," Grey suggested, eyes fixed on the empty wine bottle. Archer and Suze nodded readily.
"Awesome! Gather round, guys," Grey said, rubbing his hands together. "I'm going to give you dares that will haunt you for the rest of your lives." His words were menacing, but Archer and Suze weren't intimidated.
As Archer stood from the couch, he accidentally dropped a thick file. Papers scattered on the floor, but none of them paid attention. Grey spun the bottle with vigor. After several tense moments, it stopped, pointing directly at King, who had just entered. He was clearly irritated.
"You look like you've had a rough day, bud," Grey said cautiously.
King sat on the couch, arms spread wide, closing his eyes. "Pour me a drink," he said. The three exchanged confused looks but obeyed.
"I feel like killing someone!" he breathed, slow and controlled.
"Someone seems to have pissed you off big time," Suze said, passing him the glass. King opened his eyes and exhaled sharply. "You have no idea. I need to get my hands on her again."
The three of them froze. Did he mean a girl?
"Hah! King, are you mad over a girl?" Suze said, downing his shot.
King's gaze snapped to him, cold and dangerous. "I was at the police station because of her. Do you think I'd be happy after that?" He growled. The three erupted in laughter; Suze almost choked on his drink.
"Who is this diva? I didn't know there was a woman in the city worth this much fuss!" Grey shot up. Archer seemed more intrigued, lifting his glass. "Perhaps King has finally found someone worthy of comparison."
King's hand crushed the glass in his fist. "Archer, haven't you been talking too much lately?" he said, annoyed. Archer lifted a lip. "At least I wasn't hauled in because of a girl," he said with a chuckle.
King tossed the glass aside, stood, and lunged. "You think you're better than me?" he growled, grabbing Archer by the collar. "Oh, I forgot—that's your job: to act like you're better than everyone."
Grey grabbed Kingston's arm. "Archer, stop."
"Why?" Archer said, glaring at Grey. "Aren't you tired of kissing up to him? Just because he's named King doesn't make him one."
Kingston shoved him. Archer fell back. A fight broke out. The two hissed at each other, clawing and punching. Archer hit the floor hard, Kingston on top, fists raining down. Grey and Suze scrambled to pull them apart.
King froze as his eyes fell on the scattered files, red with some of Archer's blood. One file lay open, the picture clear: Jujube.
"She is the new student at the Academy?" Kingston said, voice low and menacing.