Ethan drove his BMW onto the MIT campus, smoothly parking in a zone designated for students. He stepped out of the car, adjusting the fit of his expensive suit. He carried no backpack or books, but walked toward the admissions building with an air of absolute confidence—the confidence of a man who owned the city.
Upon reaching the administrative offices, he found Laura, the Dean's secretary, waiting for him. She was impeccably dressed, though her professionalism was quickly overridden by her obvious desire.
"Ethan," Laura whispered, pulling him aside immediately. "I'm so glad you came. Look, there was a situation."
"What kind of situation, Laura?" Ethan asked, his gaze fixed on her.
"You hadn't formally chosen a course of study," she explained, her voice low and slightly breathless. "I went ahead and enrolled you in the easiest track possible—something in General Studies—to get your ID."
