A sharp, confident series of raps on the door cut through the mid-morning quiet.
"Knock, Knock."
"Enter," Tia, Mel's roommate, mumbled sleepily from her high-lofted bed, her back to the room.
The young woman from the shuttle queue opened the door slightly, her eyes roaming the small space until they locked onto Mel. She entered with a purposeful stride, didn't miss a beat in greeting Tia's still-slumbering form, and then stationed herself right beside Mel, who was struggling with a jammed zipper on her backpack.
"Hey, friend, are you done? I came to drag you for lectures so we can walk together, or we can even wait for the shuttle since we have more time before the lecture starts," Chloe, as Mel now knew her, announced in a single, breathless blast, beaming.
This lady operates at a volume 11, all the time, Mel thought, a wry smile escaping her.
"Uhm, yeah, sure, why not," Mel finally replied. "I am almost done; I was just checking out my 'fit' for the last time."
"Babe, you look gorgeous, heads are going to swoon today!" Chloe exclaimed, excitement practically radiating off her. Mel couldn't help but feel a slight, flattered blush.
"Tia, we're heading to campus. See you later," Mel called out as she opened the door for Chloe. Chloe followed suit, closing the door behind her with a definitive click.
As they walked toward the hallway exit, Chloe's voice dropped, laced with a sudden curiosity. "Wait, why is Tia still in bed? Doesn't she have an afternoon class? Or is she just skipping?"
Melanie chose to ignore the loaded question, quickening her pace. Chloe, however, seemed to thrive on the campus buzz, forcing Mel to walk faster just to keep up with her social momentum.
They stepped out into the bright sunlight. Mel's gaze was immediately drawn up the hill. Standing apart from the traditional, ivy-covered buildings was a structure that seemed alien—a sleek, cold tower of dark glass and polished chrome. It looked like a monolith, a financial fortress.
"That is where the real-world power lives," Chloe murmured, her voice now respectful, gesturing vaguely toward the tower. "The Advanced Financial Institute. The top floor is a private office. I heard it belongs to a huge capital fund—the Kallen Capital Group. Old money, ruthless investors. They just use the campus as a satellite office to scout talent."
Mel nodded, but her attention was fixated lower down, drawn to a smaller, fiercely polished bronze plaque near the tower's entrance. Her stomach tightened as she read the inscription: The Kallen Capital Business Scholarship Endowment.
Chloe noticed Mel's focus and scoffed, pulling her along. "That old thing? A bunch of billionaires covering their taxes. They pay for a few big scholarships, mostly for international finance students. They say whoever runs that fund practically owns the program directors here."
Mel's throat went instantly dry. She couldn't tell Chloe, not a soul, that the incredibly competitive, small grant she was on—the one her father had stressed over and which paid for almost everything—was specifically The Kallen Capital Business Scholarship.
Her entire career here, her entire financial stability, was inextricably linked to the name Kallen.
She wasn't just on the same campus as the "Ice King"; she was financially tethered to him.
She had no choice but to follow Chloe toward the packed shuttle stop, heading straight for the chaos, knowing that the shadow of that brutal glass tower, and the absolute power it represented, now fell directly over her.