"Grayson, where are you? Get to class right now—this is Management, so don't be late!"
A message from Miles, Grayson's roommate and friend, pops up on Grayson's phone.
Professor Dr. Leonard Hayes, who teaches Management, is notoriously harsh. He absolutely hates tardiness; rumor has it that if you're late three times, you fail the course outright.
Grayson can't afford to take any chances. Clutching his black plastic bag, he bolts, too panicked to even drop by his own dorm room—he heads straight for the academic building.
"Sorry, Professor."
Despite his rush, Grayson still arrives after the bell. Standing by the doorway, he can feel every eye in the lecture hall fixed on him.
For a full thirty seconds, Professor Claire Whitman neither pauses her lecture nor spares Grayson a single glance. It's as if he doesn't even exist—an awkwardness so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Finally, Professor Whitman glances up from her notes, adjusts her glasses, and unleashes a tirade. "Did you lose track of time picking up trash? Do you even realize you're late? Are you a student, or a vagrant?"
These questions aren't genuine inquiries—they're pure insults. The whole class bursts into laughter.
After all, Grayson is literally holding a large black garbage bag, the kind garbage collectors use—hard to miss. And he's dressed in worn-out clothes, reinforcing the impression that he's been scavenging for scraps.
"Come on, open that bag so we can all see what treasures you found." Professor Whitman sneers.
More laughter ripples through the room.
"No need," Grayson says flatly.
It's a fact that Professor Whitman despises poor students, but shows deference to those with money or status. Grayson has always loathed her two-faced behavior.
"Hmph. Take your 'treasures' and go find your seat. Remember this: two more tardies, and you can forget about earning credit in my class. Pathetic. The poorer you are, the more worthless you become." Professor Whitman snorts as she dismisses him.
Grayson obediently moves aside. From the doorway to his seat, classmates continue to stare at the plastic bag, whispering and giggling to each other. Everyone's clearly speculating about his "garbage haul."
Once he's seated, Grayson doesn't even try to follow the lecture. He flops face-down on his desk and drifts off to sleep—he's exhausted from all the running and humiliation. This is one of the perks of university life: as long as you're quiet and don't disrupt anyone else, nobody cares if you snooze in class.
Grayson is halfway into a dream when a hand nudges his shoulder. He slowly lifts his head—Sienna is standing over him.
"All of this…is yours?" Sienna asks, pointing at the plastic bag. It's now unzipped, revealing stacks of U.S. dollar bills neatly arranged inside.
Gone is the frosty contempt she showed when they broke up; instead, her face is suffused with a kind of sultry allure that makes Grayson's skin crawl. He says nothing, simply grabs the bag and starts to walk away.
"Baby, wait—Baby!"
Sienna's voice grows urgent. The moment she uses that nickname, Grayson's resolve weakens. He remembers the night they officially became a couple, the night she stopped calling him "Grayson" and began calling him "Baby." Any man would feel an instinctive urge to protect a girl who calls him that. Hearing it again stirs something deep within him, and he halts, spinning around.
But then laughter erupts in the room. Confusion floods Grayson's mind. He hasn't left his seat—he's simply stood up, plastic bag still resting on the floor beside him, undisturbed. Sienna isn't talking to him at all.
He blinks, startled—everything he just experienced was a dream. However, Sienna really did shout "Baby"—only, she was addressing someone else. Standing at the doorway is a boy clutching a massive bouquet of roses: Sebastian Sebastian, Sienna's new boyfriend.
Grayson's chest tightens. He hated this—Sebastian Sebastian. Not especially handsome, his features are coarse, and he's short and stocky. But every piece of clothing he wears is designer: Levi's, Louis Vuitton, the works. Clearly, his family has money to burn.
Suddenly, the scene clicks into focus. Classes have just ended. Sebastian is here to pick Sienna up. Sienna cried out "Baby" because she saw Sebastian, not Grayson. Because that term of endearment was so intimately familiar, Grayson jerked awake and rose to his feet, convinced she was calling him. Seeing him standing stupidly in the aisle, the classmates laugh uproariously. Everyone knows about Grayson and Sienna's past relationship.
"Oh, I was calling my boyfriend," Sienna says, linking arms with Sebastian. She turns to look at Grayson's dumbfounded face; a sneer of contempt curls the corner of her mouth.
"You idiot," Sebastian sneers, pointing a finger at Grayson. "If you ever try to bother Sienna again, I'll have people rough you up."
Sebastian clearly thinks Grayson is beneath contempt. Not only is Sebastian wealthy, but he's a local guy with connections—he runs with some unsavory characters who owe him favors. To Sebastian, Grayson is just a broke nobody.
Yet some of the boys in the group bristle at Sebastian's arrogance. He's from another group, parading into their lecture hall, trying to swagger away with one of their own girls. Everybody knows it's an insult to the host.
"Sienna, don't bother with him—he's nothing but a penniless loser." Sienna's eyes gleam with pure disdain. The old affection she had for Grayson is gone.
A female voice rings out:"Sienna Monroe! I can't believe you kicked Grayson to the curb. You dumped him—do you know how heartless that is?"
The girl speaking at this moment is named Chloe Ramirez. She's been close with both Grayson and Sienna. Back when Grayson and Sienna were together, the three of them were inseparable—they'd hang out, grab meals; Chloe even accompanied Grayson when he saved up to buy Sienna a phone.
"Sienna, you…." Sienna looks flustered, uncertain how to respond.
"Come on, Sienna. Everyone knows you're shallow, but I never imagined you could be this shallow—breaking up with Grayson for someone like Sebastian ?" Chloe's voice quivers with anger. "Don't you even know Sebastian's reputation? He changes girlfriends every few months. During freshman orientation, he tried to seduce incoming freshmen. You're with him just for the money, aren't you? Have you forgotten how good Grayson treated you? Remember that night you had a fever and we couldn't get a cab? He carried you for miles to the hospital. Remember how, while you got an IV, he stripped off his own coat so you wouldn't freeze, and then ran in circles outside just to stay warm? And later, when you said you wanted a Coke—at two in the morning—he walked for what felt like forever to get you one. Have you forgotten all that?"
Chloe's voice breaks: "He truly loved you. When you said you wanted a new phone, he worked in a restaurant for over a month just to afford it. I was with him when he bought it. Do you know the joy on his face when he finally surprised you with that phone? He was happier to give it to you than if he'd bought it for himself."
"Enough!" Sienna snaps, furious. "Chloe, if you think you're still my friend, you wouldn't say any of this! Breaking up with Grayson was the right decision. So what if he's worked his tail off—he still carried an old iPhone SE. Sebastian got me an iPhone 16 Plus. Sorry, SE is old news; I prefer the 16 Plus."
"Sienna, you've changed. You've become ridiculously vain." Chloe's tone is hurt but still caring—she's angry at her friend's soul-selling.
"Says who?" Sienna glances at Chloe with icy disbelief. "You think I wanted to be friends with you? I only palled around with you because I thought your dad was some big-shot department chief. Turns out he's just a clerk. I wish I'd known that sooner—then I never would have wasted my time being friends with you. Now—if you can't stand it, fine. We're done."
With a haughty flick of her hair, Sienna loops her arm through Sebastian's. "Come on, darling. Let's go. We don't need these losers raining on our parade. Oh, and tonight—steak dinner. Right?"
As Sienna and Sebastian sweep out of the room, Chloe turns to Grayson, clapping him gently on the shoulder. "Hey, don't dwell on it. I know that breakup stings. Come on—let me treat you to something good."
"Not tonight," Grayson murmurs, still reeling from everything. "But give me a few days. I'll take you to a Michelin-starred place."
"Are you serious?" Chloe's eyes light up with excitement. She knows a Michelin-star restaurant is expensive—rumor says you need at least two hundred dollars per person. She assumes Grayson is joking.
But Grayson isn't joking. He could afford any top-tier restaurant in the world three meals a day if he wanted. He just says, "I'll call you soon," and Chloe, grinning widely, leaves.
Grayson gathers his plastic bag and heads back to the dorm with his roommates Miles and Tyler Brooks.
Halfway there, an alert pops up in their WhatsApp group for Room 306:
"Hey, I'm back—someone come out and eat!"
There are only four members in that group—the four residents of Dorm 306.
"Jace's back? Grayson, let's hurry. There's good food waiting!"
"Man, I wonder what he brought back this time."
With that, the three quicken their pace toward the dorm. Jace is their roommate but not in the same department—he's in the Arts program, while Grayson, Miles, and Tyler are all Management majors. The Art department didn't have enough space, so Jace was assigned to their dorm. He's always off on location for weeks at a time, sketching whatever corner of the country he's exploring, and he often brings back local delicacies for his roommates.
As they hurry back to the dorm, Miles flings open the door. "Yo, my dear Jace—what tasty treats did you bring?"
But the moment Miles finishes speaking, both he and Tyler freeze, their faces going beet-red. Grayson, stepping in last, halts in his tracks—On Jace's bed sits a girl.