LOGINLucas Miller is a shy young man with a quiet personality.He got admission to Silvercrest University after his parents died in a tragic accident. Raihan King the most influential arrogant gay on campus, a dangerously attractive playboy whose reputation as the "King of Boys" follows him like a shadow. Their world collide when they both become roommates . Lucas loved his life of solitude until Raihan stumbles into his life of leisure.
View MoreLucas POV
My life have been in Chaos ever since I lost my parents in a tragic accident.
One morning,my aunt called to tell me I would be moving in with her in Chelsea. I had been living alone ever since their death, trying to hold myself together in a world that no longer feels like home.
I packed my luggages and took my parents' framed photo with me, my only reminder of them.
I didn't know how to live without them anymore.
I arrived in Chelsea as quickly as I could.
I was waiting for my aunt at the bus stop when a car speed past me and splashed dirt all over me.
The guy peeped through the car window and couldn't apologize, instead he drove off.
"What the fuck is wrong with you bro?"I shouted , but got no response from anyone.
I cursed him inwardly. Shortly after, my aunt arrived and parked beside me, apologizing for keeping me waiting.
We got to her space , unpacked my luggages and settled in.
I met her two older daughters but I care less just wanted to have a good night's rest and forget my sorrows.
Morning came quickly than expected, my aunt told me she already got admission for one in one of the best University in Chelsea.
Mira and Evelyn tried to introduce themselves, but I simply took my breakfast and shut the door on them.I wouldn’t be staying here for long, so I saw no reason to socialize with them.
The following week,I repacked my luggage, and my aunt drove me to Silvercrest University.
I had heard countless stories about Silvercrest University, but none of them did it justice.The moment I stepped onto the sprawling campus, I was struck by its breathtaking grandeur.
My aunt's car came to a stop in front of the university residence,a towering building bustling with students hauling suitcases through the entrance.
The residence resembled a luxury apartment complex more than a hostel. Marble floors gleamed beneath crystal chandeliers, and students dressed in designer labels drifted through the lobby with an air of effortless privilege.
My aunt assisted me in getting acclimated to my new surroundings before making her departure. Truthfully, there was an undeniable sense of unfamiliarity between us. She felt less like a relative and more like an acquaintance bound to me by blood alone. Consequently, I found myself devoid of any sentimental inclination to bid her a proper farewell as she disappeared down the corridor.
Relief coursed through me at the prospect of having the room all to myself. However, that fleeting sense of comfort was abruptly shattered.
The door burst open, and a striking young man sauntered inside, hauling an expensive briefcase with an air of effortless authority. In his wake trailed a multitude of students, orbiting him like devoted satellites around a celestial body. Their admiration was almost reverential, their attention unwavering, as though he were the undisputed sovereign of Silvercrest University itself.
The door clicked shut behind him as he locked it, before casting me a brief, dismissive glance as though I were insignificant.
“Oi! What are you doing in here? This is my room. You’ve gone into the wrong one, I said.
“Wait… I recognize you. You’re the same guy who splashed mud all over me and walked away without offering a single apology,"I said .
“And who the hell are you? This was supposed to be the room my mother secured for me. Why are you here, you little thing?”
He let out a cold, dismissive scoff, eyes scanning me with blatant disdain. “Tch… do you even realize who you’re speaking to?”
A crooked smirk tugged at his lips, laced with arrogance. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But don’t mistake stupidity for bravery.”
He stepped closer, invading space without care, his voice dropping into something sharper, more cutting. “Seems like I’ve been stuck with a fresh, clueless nuisance.”
In the midst of the confrontation, my mind abruptly betrayed me.
A sharp, piercing voice, too loud, too abrasive, became the catalyst for something buried deep within me. The world around me began to distort, its edges blurring as an unwelcome, all-too-familiar memory surged violently to the surface.
My mind was flooded with echoes of screams, chaos, and violent impact, each sound colliding like fragments of a nightmare I could not escape.
It wasn’t just a memory—it was a relapse into a nightmare I never escaped. My parents’ death returned in violent, fragmented flashes, uninvited yet unstoppable, as though my mind had condemned me to relive it over and over again. It always happened like this—whenever voices rose, whenever anger filled the space around me like a suffocating fog.
I released a guttural scream, and the world went still ,utterly, hauntingly quiet, as if it had stopped breathing along with me.
He leaned against the wall, eyes cold and unbothered as he spoke. “Don’t cross your line… unless you want to end up resenting yourself.”
There was no request in his actions, no courtesy ,just absolute entitlement. Without a second glance in my direction, he dragged his luggage in and began unpacking ,moving around the room as though he owned the space.
I stood frozen, gradually surrendering to the grim realization that I was now trapped with a living nightmare.
“I wanted a fresh start. I got him instead.”
Lucas..**Morning**The alarm went off at the usual time, which meant Raihan groaned into the pillow and I reached over him to shut it up.“Why is it always louder on days we actually need to get up?” he muttered.“It’s the same volume every day.”“Then every day is a crime.”I sat up slowly, testing my ribs out of habit. The sharp edge of pain had dulled into something more manageable. Across the small hostel room, Raihan’s bed was a mess of blankets, one of my hoodies half-buried in them from the night before. Living in the same room had stopped feeling temporary weeks ago. His charger was permanently tangled with mine on the desk. My notes had started appearing on his side of the shelf. Someone — probably Ana — had already started calling it “their room” without thinking about it.Raihan eventually dragged himself upright, hair flattened on one side.“Lecture first or coffee first?”“Coffee,” I said. “If I try to learn anything on an empty brain I’ll start agreeing with Noah.”“Dan
LUCAS.. Mr. King came the next evening. He didn’t call ahead. He simply appeared at the hostel door with a dark leather bag in his good hand and the same carefully controlled expression he always wore when something important was about to happen. Raihan let him in. I stayed seated on the edge of the bed, already knowing what the bag contained. “I thought it was better if I brought these myself,” Mr. King said. He set the bag down on the desk. “The police have the original documents from the box. These are the personal things. They belong to you.” He didn’t linger. After a short look at both of us, he left again, the door closing softly behind him. For a while neither of us moved. Raihan sat down beside me. “You don’t have to open it right now.” “I do,” I said. My hands were steadier than I expected when I unzipped the bag. Inside, everything was carefully packed. A watch with a worn leather strap. A small stack of photographs bound with a faded ribbon. A leather journal
LUCAS…The door finally clicked shut behind the last of them.Ana’s voice still echoed faintly down the hallway, mixed with Ava’s laughter and Ethan’s exaggerated complaints about who had burned the eggs. Then the sound faded, and the hostel room settled into a thick, sudden quiet. The plates were stacked in the sink. The cards were scattered across the bed. The air still smelled faintly of oil and seasoning.Raihan stood near the desk, shoulders slightly hunched, bandaged wrists resting loosely at his sides. The afternoon light coming through the thin curtains caught the edge of the tape on his cheek. He looked exhausted. He also looked like he had been holding himself together for too many hours in a row.I locked the door.When I turned back, he was already watching me.Neither of us spoke at first. The silence stretched, heavy with everything we hadn't been able to say while other people were in the room. Then Raihan pushed away from the desk and crossed the small space between u
LUCAS They discharged the next morning.Mr. King’s shoulder was secured in a proper sling, the wound cleaned and stitched. Raihan’s wrists were freshly bandaged, the cut on his cheek closed with a small strip of tape. My own ribs were wrapped tightly, and the swelling along my jaw had turned a deep, ugly shade of purple. None of us looked like we belonged in ordinary daylight, but the doctors had done what they could and signed the papers.Mr. King insisted on driving.The ride back to campus was quiet. Raihan sat in the front beside his father. I sat behind them, watching the city move past the window, still half-expecting the night’s violence to catch up with us somehow. Every so often Raihan glanced back at me, as if checking I was still there. Each time I gave him a small nod.When we turned onto the final road leading to the hostels, Mr. King slowed the car.“You two should rest,” he said. “I’ll have the remaining documents and your father’s belongings brought over once the poli
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