The moment Melanie opened the door to the familiar downtown diner booth, the tight knot of college anxiety eased. She was instantly enveloped in a three-way hug that smelled exactly like comfort, home, and the cheap perfume they'd shared since high school.
Mel had woken up to the sound of a 'ding' on her phone, a lifeline cutting through the cold dorm silence. It was Jenna, suggesting an immediate downtown meetup: "It's been too long! Escape the ivy tower and let's get together today." The invitation felt like permission to breathe.
"Mel, you finally escaped that ivy tower!" Sam, the group's funny, easygoing one, cried out, already half-tangled in Jenna's meticulously organized tote bag.
Jenna, the practical friend and keeper of the schedule, smiled. "Don't listen to her. We're thrilled you got in, Mel. Now sit before that booth claims you forever."
Melanie slid in next to Jenna, directly across from Sam. This was her impenetrable bubble—two girls who knew every awkward phase and every secret, fundamental fear.
"Okay, spill," Sam demanded, leaning forward, chin in her hand. "You've been at Northwood University for three days. Who's the most intense person you've met? Anyone actually famous or terrifying?"
Melanie laughed, momentarily relieved to deflect. "Oh, I met this girl, Chloe. She's in my dorm. She introduced herself to me while I was trying to ignore a line of a hundred people waiting for a shuttle. She calls herself my 'friend' now. She's intense, alright. Like a Labrador puppy that's also a boundary-less social climber."
Jenna snorted, "Sounds exhausting."
Melanie nodded. "Then there's my roommate, Tia. She barely speaks but watches everything. It's like living with a very pretty, very quiet security camera."
Melanie shifted uncomfortably, taking a long sip of her soda. She couldn't tell them about the Kallen Capital group or the sudden, suffocating financial pressure.
"No, no. Just… the pressure, you know? It's not like high school. Everything is high-stakes and everyone looks like they know exactly what they're doing," Mel said vaguely, trying to sound like a normal freshman.
Jenna's gaze narrowed slightly. "It's always high-stakes when people are competing for money or status, Mel. Look, you're the sweetest person we know. But college is where people go to upgrade their friends. Watch your back. Not everyone is loyal like this."
The conversation mercifully shifted to safer ground—college parties, small gossip, and future plans. The easy, well-worn rhythm of their banter was a balm, a temporary shield against the cold, ambitious world Mel had just glimpsed.
But the real world, the Kallen Capital world, refused to be shut out.
A moment later, Sam, scrolling through her phone, gasped sharply, making the whole table jump. "Wait, wait, wait. Mel, Jenna, look at this. Is this guy going to be on your campus?"
Sam turned her screen, displaying a headline with a large, high-contrast photo. The man in the picture had cold, dark eyes and a charcoal suit that looked like it cost more than Mel's first year of tuition.
"Rhys Kallen Slams Rivals in Q3 Takeover, Alumni Warned of Investor's 'Shark-Like' Instincts," Sam read the subheading aloud, her voice hushed with a mixture of horror and awe.
"Whoa, Rhys Kallen," Jenna muttered, whistling low. "My dad follows him. That guy doesn't invest; he predates. He just shut down a five-year-old tech company last month just to absorb its patent portfolio. They say he's giving a mandatory masterclass on campus this semester."
Melanie's heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Kallen. Rhys Kallen. She recognized the face from the alumni literature—the cold eyes, the notoriously ruthless reputation. The realization hit her with the force of a tidal wave: the Kallen Capital Pitch Session was mandatory for her business course, and he was the arrogant, powerful figure whose shadow already fell over the campus.
Sam, ever supportive, nudged her arm. "He sounds awful, Mel. Just ignore him. Focus on your classes. You'll be fine."
Melanie managed a weak smile, but inside, the safety of the bubble had evaporated. She knew she couldn't ignore him. She was about to be swimming in the same tank as the shark. She was determined to prove to herself, and the world, that she belonged there, scholarship or not.
That night, back in her quiet dorm, Melanie pulled up the Kallen Capital Pitch Session requirements on her laptop. It was mandatory. Her immediate success and her scholarship's stability were hinged on facing the shark.
As she closed the laptop, a new notification flashed onto her screen. It wasn't the fellowship yet, but an urgent announcement from the Business Faculty Head:
TOP PRIORITY UPDATE: Rhys Kallen has rescheduled the introductory pitch session for all new business students. It is now a closed-door event tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM. Attendance is strictly mandatory. Do not be late.
Melanie stared at the bold, unforgiving text. The grace period was over.