MY BILLIONAIRE YOUNG MASTER

Myra

The waiting area outside the scholarship office was crowded as usual.

Rows of students sat on metal chairs while others stood along the hallway, nervously checking their phones or reviewing documents they had already submitted weeks ago.

I sat quietly in the corner, holding my folder against my chest.

Every year, Hilton Academy evaluated scholarship students to determine whether they could keep their grants. We had to maintain excellent grades, pass examinations, and meet the academy's requirements.

For the past three years, I had never failed.

Not once.

The partial scholarship covered fifty percent of my tuition fees. It wasn't everything, but it was enough to help my family breathe a little easier.

Without it, I wouldn't have made it this far.

I worked part-time after classes and during vacations. Sometimes I tutored neighborhood kids. Other times, I worked at small shops, cafés, or wherever people were willing to hire a college student.

It was exhausting.

But every sacrifice felt worth it whenever I saw my mother's smile.

This year was my final year.

Just one more year.

One more year and I could finally graduate.

"PAGING MYRA YLLEREIN. PAGING MYRA YLLEREIN. PLEASE PROCEED TO MRS. REYES' OFFICE FOR YOUR RESULTS."

My head immediately snapped up.

A smile spread across my face.

That was my cue.

I stood, adjusted my bag, and made my way down the familiar hallway.

Mrs. Reyes had been my scholarship adviser since my first year. Whenever I felt like giving up, she was always there to encourage me.

I knocked twice before entering.

"Come in."

As soon as I stepped inside, I saw her sitting behind her desk.

"Hi, dear Myra," she greeted with a small smile. "How was your vacation?"

I smiled back.

"Nothing new, Mrs. Reyes. Mostly part-time jobs."

"Oh?"

I nodded.

"I worked at an ice cream parlor for two months. Then I tutored some kids in our neighborhood."

A look of pride crossed my face.

"I even managed to save a little."

Normally, Mrs. Reyes would laugh or praise me.

Instead, something in her expression changed.

The smile slowly disappeared.

My stomach tightened.

Something wasn't right.

"Mrs. Reyes?"

She lowered her eyes briefly before looking back at me.

"Sit down first, Myra."

My heart began beating faster.

I quietly sat across from her desk.

The room suddenly felt smaller.

"Well, Myra..." she began carefully.

Her hands folded together.

"I did everything I could."

I blinked.

"What do you mean?"

She released a slow breath.

"You passed."

For a moment, relief flooded my chest.

I passed.

I knew it.

I worked so hard for those exams.

But before I could celebrate, she continued.

"You passed the scholarship evaluation."

My smile slowly faded.

"But..."

There it was.

The word nobody wanted to hear.

Mrs. Reyes looked at me apologetically.

"The available slots are already full."

I stared at her.

Not fully understanding.

"What?"

She swallowed.

"This year, the number of applicants increased significantly. Hundreds of freshmen took the scholarship examination."

My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag.

"The committee had to make adjustments."

The room suddenly felt distant.

As if her voice was coming from somewhere far away.

"You passed, Myra," she repeated softly. "Your scores were good enough. But because of the limited slots, your name didn't make the final list."

Silence.

I couldn't hear anything else.

Not the ticking clock.

Not the air conditioner.

Nothing.

Only one thought.

No scholarship.

No scholarship.

No scholarship.

My vision blurred.

I immediately lowered my head.

I didn't want her to see me cry.

But it was already too late.

A tear landed on my hand.

Then another.

And another.

I quickly wiped them away.

Embarrassed.

Humiliated.

Broken.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Reyes whispered.

"I argued for your case."

I remained silent.

"I spoke to the scholarship committee."

Still silent.

"I even requested reconsideration."

Her voice shook.

"But they wouldn't change their decision."

I pressed my lips together.

Hard.

Because if I opened my mouth, I knew I would start crying.

And once I started, I wouldn't be able to stop.

My mother.

My siblings.

The bills.

My tuition.

Everything flashed through my mind at once.

This scholarship wasn't just important.

It was my future.

Finally, I managed to force out a smile.

A weak one.

"Thank you for trying, Mrs. Reyes."

The words hurt.

Because I knew she truly tried.

Mrs. Reyes stood and walked around her desk.

Before I could react, she wrapped her arms around me.

The simple gesture nearly destroyed the little composure I had left.

"It's okay to cry, dear."

And I did.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just quietly.

Like someone mourning something they couldn't afford to lose.

After a few moments, I finally pulled away.

Mrs. Reyes reached for a drawer and handed me an envelope.

"Please take this."

I immediately shook my head.

"No, Mrs. Reyes."

"It's just a little help."

"I can't."

"You can."

I tried refusing again, but she gently pushed it into my hands.

"You've worked harder than most students I've ever met."

My throat tightened.

"Please."

I looked down at the envelope.

There was money inside.

Not much.

But enough to help.

Enough to remind me that someone believed in me.

Fresh tears threatened to fall again.

"Thank you."

Mrs. Reyes squeezed my hand.

"We'll find another way."

I nodded.

"I'll also try asking if there's still a chance for reconsideration during the second scholarship batch."

Hope.

Small and fragile.

But hope nonetheless.

I thanked her one last time before leaving the office.

The hallway seemed quieter now.

Or maybe it was just me.

I walked outside the administration building and stopped beneath a large tree overlooking the academy grounds.

Students laughed nearby.

Friends talked about vacations.

Some were planning their final year.

Life continued as if nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, my entire world felt like it had shifted.

I took a deep breath.

Then another.

And another.

No.

I couldn't fall apart.

Not here.

Not now.

I looked up at the clear afternoon sky.

"Don't lose hope, Myra."

I tapped my own shoulder.

A habit I had developed whenever life became difficult.

"You'll figure something out."

I wiped away the remaining tears and forced myself to smile.

Because giving up had never been an option.

Not when my family was counting on me.

Not when I had come this far.

No matter what happened next—

I would find a way.