Chapter 2
As Freen's car approached her designated parking spot on campus, she came to an abrupt halt just before reaching it. And when I say car, it's not just any car—it’s a Porsche 911 S Yellow Limited Edition, a machine that roared like thunder and turned heads wherever it went. But today, it seemed to go unnoticed.
Her patience wore thin as she spotted a blue Mercedes-Benz occupying her space. A middle-aged couple stood beside it, engrossed in a chaotic shuffle of luggage, completely oblivious to the inconvenience they were causing.
"You gotta be kidding me," she muttered, ready to honk when a voice caramelized in her ears.
"Mom, Dad, what's taking so long? I'm already running late!"
And there she was—Becky, no, a princess—stepping out of the car. For a fleeting, yet seemingly endless moment, Freen lost the track of her lost patience.
White Nike shoes hugged slender legs, leading up to a cute black mini skirt that accentuated her delicate curves. Her white top sat effortlessly on her frame, exuding a simplicity that only heightened her beauty. Freen's mind craved the details and her mouth went dry, a cute little princess in white top with revealing beauty and nothing else left Freen quite awestruck.
A knock on her window snapped her back to reality. It was the parking lot guard.
"Miss Freen, I apologize. They said they’d only be here for a few minutes as they’re dropping off their daughter. I let them park here temporarily. Let me ask them to move."
Freen exhaled, pushing away her irritation. "It’s fine. Here’s my key—park my car once they’re done. I gotta go."
Stepping out, she had a full, unfiltered view of the princess before her. She gulped, hoping for even a fleeting moment of eye contact, some sign of acknowledgment. But no—the little family was too absorbed in their goodbyes.
With a huff, Freen turned and strode toward the entrance gate.
Becky’s luggage and her parents’ endless affection had finally been delivered to her assigned dorm. Now, she was free to explore the campus before orientation.
As she stepped onto university grounds, her eyes sparkled at the grand, aesthetically glamorous surroundings. Heads turned as she walked by—Chad, Paul, Jack, even Jill—everyone seemed eager to help. She was used to the attention, though. Beauty had always been a part of her presence, like a soft glow she carried effortlessly. With polite smiles, she declined their advances and made her way to the orientation auditorium.
The sign on the door read: Orientation Hall for Art & Business Classes.
Pushing it open, she stepped inside—late.
Silence fell. The murmur of voices, the clapping audience—all of it ceased. Every pair of eyes turned toward her, but none more intensely than those belonging to the person standing at the podium: Freen Sarocha.
Their eyes met.
Becky’s gaze was filled with apology; Freen’s, with a mix of irritation and something else—something unreadable.
"I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I got lost! Please continue—I’ll just find a seat. Sorry again!"
A girl sitting among a group of nerds waved at her. "Hey, over here!"
Becky hurried over and took the open seat.
"I’m Irin. Don’t worry about being late. Honestly, we weren’t paying attention—except, well, when it's Freen Sarocha speaking, even God would sit down and listen."
Becky chuckled. "Nice to meet you, Irin. I’m Becky."
Two more students slid closer, eager to introduce themselves.
"I’m Nop."
"And I’m Mew."
Becky nodded, offering them a polite smile before finally turning her attention back to the stage—back to Freen, whose piercing bronze eyes were still locked onto her.
Becky swallowed hard, an inexplicable tension settling in her throat. Freen’s face was unreadable—cold, impassive, but somehow brimming with unspoken thoughts.
"Don’t be intimidated," Irin whispered. "That’s just her usual face."
Becky raised a brow. "How do you know? You’re new too, right?"
Irin grinned. "Yeah, but I’ve been listening to her speech for the past twenty-five minutes. She’s gorgeous, but terrifying. That’s why everyone’s giving her their full attention—who knows if she’ll punish us later for slacking off?"
Becky stifled a laugh. "Punish us? This is one of the top universities in the world."
"Exactly. That’s why we have no idea what to expect."
Finally settling in, Becky turned her full focus to the podium. Freen, however, had already looked away, resuming her speech as if Becky’s entrance had never happened.
"Rude," Becky muttered under her breath.
By the time orientation ended, Becky had made a few friends, Irin, Nop, and Mew —whether they were real friends or merely acquaintances, only time would tell.
Meanwhile, across the university cafeteria, two girls were gossiping over their meals.
"Freen, seriously, how could you skip the most important part of the dorm rules?" Nam, a curly-haired girl with chubby cheeks and glasses, asked.
"Yeah! What about behavioral policies? No smoking, no alcohol?" Kade, a slim girl with a celebrity-like attitude, added.
Freen sighed. "I know I messed up. It’s that girl’s fault! She walked in and completely threw me off. I wanted to call her out for being late!"
Nam dramatically clutched her chest. "Freen Sarocha, distracted? Impossible!"
"Something's up," Kade smirked. "Tell us the truth."
"It’s nothing," Freen scoffed. "You two handle the elite presidential club’s rules—I’m done for today."
She grabbed her things and walked away.
Nam and Kade exchanged knowing looks.
"Poor Freen," Kade sighed. "Let’s do damage control."
They pulled out their tablets and began drafting an updated rules list for new students.
Night had fallen by the time Freen reached her dorm. The clock read past 9 PM as she entered the gate.
"Welcome home, Miss Freen," the guard greeted.
Freen rolled her eyes. "Don’t treat me any differently unless I say so. It’s late. You should be questioning why I’m out this late, not welcoming me."
She has to be strict, or else these guards might also become lenient with others and let them slide in or out of the dorm, breaking rules.
The guard stiffened. "My apologies, Miss. It won’t happen again."
The elevator doors slid open on the eighth floor. Stepping into the familiar corridor, she walked towards her room—805.
Key in. Lock turned. Door pushed open.
And then—
"Excuse me?"