After their subtle conversation outside, They both headed back on their way to their apartment.
Lucas's apartment was warm and lived-in. The scent of dinner lingered in the air, and the TV played softly in the background. They sat side by side on the couch, a bowl of chips between them.
"You ever think of contacting them?" Lucas asked.
"Every damn day," Aaron replied. "But I'm not ready."
Lucas didn't argue. "Alright. But when you are — I'll help."
The quiet settled again until Lucas smirked and broke it.
"So... Aaron. Be honest. You got a girlfriend, or are you just allergic to commitment?"
Aaron laughed for the first time that night. "I'm taking my time."
"Come on, man. Spill it."
Aaron hesitated, then gave in. "Her name's Elena Layne Fonte. Lena. We met at the library. She was studying Finance, overwhelmed with some paper. I offered to help. She was stubborn. Still is."
Lucas leaned in. "She sounds special."
"She is," Aaron said, his eyes distant. "There's something about her. Like she's got a garden inside her soul. And every time she smiles, it's like... light shines through the cracks."
Lucas let out a low whistle. "That's deep, man."
Aaron nodded. "She's dealing with stuff. Family things. She doesn't talk about it, but I see it in her eyes."
Lucas gave him a knowing look. "You don't have to be everything for her. Just being there counts."
Aaron's eyes shimmered under the flickering light of the TV.
Elena Layne Fonte is a strikingly composed yet quietly intense young woman in her early twenties, known for her razor-sharp intellect and a poise that makes her seem older than her years. With dark, expressive eyes and a deliberate, graceful manner, she carries herself like someone who was raised in a world of polished expectations but chose to carve her own path. As a finance student at Velmont University, she juggles late-night shifts and academic excellence with a quiet resilience that draws people in. Beneath her calm exterior lies a simmering defiance against the life her affluent family tried to script for her—a rebellion marked not by noise, but by choice.
"She's the one good thing in my life I haven't ruined yet."
Then, without warning, the apartment door creaked open, wind blews whistling to the air.
Both men turned their heads. Pulling them out of their conversation.
It's already midnight
Aaron glanced at the clock. Stride into his bedroom.
And for the first time that night — a trace of dread crept into his eyes.
Meanwhile, in the Velmont University Finance Department housing wing Dormitory, a modest, functional, but softened beds and couches by personal touches —a few well-kept plants on the windowsill, classical records stacked beside a worn speaker, and hand-written quotes taped to the mirror. The desk is cluttered with color-coded notes, financial textbooks, and half-finished coffee cups, all orbiting like the remnants of sleepless ambition. One side of the room bears the chaos of her roommate Jasmine's personality, but Elena's corner remains orderly, as if each object there serves as quiet proof that she's in control—even if only barely.
The warm amber light from a single desk lamp spilled across the cluttered dorm room. Notebooks lay scattered across Elena's side of the desk, mingled with sticky notes, highlighters, and a half-empty mug of bitter tea. Her dark hair was tied back in a messy bun, strands slipping loose as she hunched over her laptop, the glow of the screen reflected in her tired eyes.
Across from her, Jasmine lay sprawled on her bed, tangled in a mess of headphones and snacking absentmindedly from a bowl of stale popcorn.
"You still drowning in Geronimo's economic disaster?" Jasmine asked, not looking up.
Elena sighed and ran a hand over her face. "Three thousand words. Market collapse. APA citations. And it's due in…" she checked her watch, "twelve hours. I hate everything."
"You say that every week," Jasmine replied, grinning. "Maybe you're just built for academic pain."
With a sigh, Elena snapped her laptop shut and let herself fall backward onto her pillow. She stared up at the ceiling, exhaustion written across her face.
"Do you ever wonder if this is even worth it?" she asked after a beat. "Like… are we just sprinting toward something that isn't even there?"
Jasmine sat up slightly, intrigued. "You're the only one I know holding it together, Elena. You work two jobs, you're top of our class, and somehow you've avoided going full zombie. That's superhuman."
Elena gave her a tired smile but didn't answer immediately. Instead, she sat up, pulling her knees to her chest.
"My family used to treat me like I'd shatter if the wind blew too hard," she said softly. "Always telling me: 'Be graceful,' 'Marry into the right name,' 'Don't raise your voice.' They had my entire future boxed and labeled by the time I turned ten."
Jasmine tilted her head. "And now?"
Elena glanced around the cramped dorm room, the cracked window, the broken heater groaning in the corner. "Now I'm here. In a freezing dorm, paying for my life one shift at a time. And honestly? I'm still scared. But at least I chose this."
Jasmine raised her mug like a toast. "To rebellion."
Elena laughed, raising her tea. "To becoming someone real."
The soft clink of their mugs echoed quietly as the rain began to fall harder outside, drumming gently against the dorm window. The air inside settled, warm and heavy with unsaid thoughts.
Then Jasmine grinned slyly. "So. Aaron, huh?"
Elena tried to hold back her smile but failed. "He's… different. He doesn't talk much, but when he listens, it's like he hears the parts I don't even say."
"Oh no," Jasmine teased. "I know that tone. You liked him."
"I do," Elena admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I just haven't figured out what that means yet."
"Just don't run from it," Jasmine said. "That's all I'll say."
Elena leaned back, her gaze drifting to the ceiling once more. Silence fell between them, filled only by the sound of rain and distant traffic.
"There's something about him," she murmured. "Like… he's running from something too."
Jasmine shrugged. "Then maybe you'll both stop running when you find each other."
A long pause stretched between them.
"Yeah," Elena whispered. "Maybe."