Why Is The Bachelorate Surprise So Controversial?

After losing her mother, Nyra Solenne earns a fully funded scholarship to Blackthorne Heights University, Canada’s most prestigious private institution. Her success goes viral online, but the excitement turns bitter when Kaizen Arclair, the school’s arrogant campus king, publicly mocks scholarship students. Nyra fires back online, sparking a heated rivalry before lectures even begin. Things worsen when Nyra arrives on campus and discovers she has been assigned to the same luxury penthouse lodge as Kaizen. Their constant clashes intensify after the principal forces Nyra to tutor him due to his failing grades, threatening her scholarship if she refuses. Would she be able to navigate the new normal or will she be sucked into the chaos of the campus king?

A video of my boyfriend proposing to his secretary makes it to the trending topics. Everyone squeals over how romantic and touching it is. His secretary even posts on social media, "I've waited so long for you to appear, and I'm glad I didn't give up. I'll leave my life in your hands, Mr. Emerson." One of the comments goes, "God, this is so sweet. A CEO and his secretary—I ship them!" I don't weep or cause a fuss. Instead, I close the webpage and ask my boyfriend for an explanation. That's when I hear him talking to his friends. "I didn't have a choice. She would've been forced to marry someone she doesn't love if I didn't help her." "What about Vicky? She's your actual girlfriend. Aren't you afraid of her getting mad?" "So what if she is? She's been with me for seven years—she can't live without me." Later, I have my wedding on the same day as his. Our cars drive past each other, and I exchange bouquets with his secretary. When he sees me, he breaks down.

When dorm picks opened, two beds were left. My hometown girl, Chloe Parker, beat me by a step and grabbed Room 501—the honors suite. That left me with Room 502, the rich-girl suite. In 501, the try-hards rode her nonstop. She made grad school. In 502, I ran errands and pulled five grand a month. At graduation, she snapped and shoved me off the roof. "It's all your fault. Without you, I wouldn't wake up every day buried in studying. How'd you stack hundreds of thousands in four years while all I got was a useless grad school offer?" I opened my eyes. Dorm selection day. Behind me, Chloe shoved past and lunged forward. "I'm picking first. I want 502."

The day our SAT scores are released, my girlfriend, Alexis Jink, and I are on a train heading back home after a graduation trip. Samuel Yonder, my "younger brother" in name only, is also with us. Samuel loves sitting by the window, and Alexis immediately sits beside him, leaving me the odd one out—just like I have been for this entire trip. "Ethan, Samuel and I need to discuss what we'll be picking for our majors. Since you didn't score very high on the mock exam, just busy yourself with your phone while we talk," Alexis says. As the two chat and laugh happily, I find myself unable to join in at all. This is certainly not what I expected when Alexis promised me a graduation trip three years ago. The test scores are announced at ten on the dot. Samuel throws his arms around Alexis in an excited and joyful hug. "This is great! With our scores, we can pick any major we want at Jocaster University!" Alexis answers with a smile, "Quick, look at the group chat. Our parents are all congratulating us." From my seat behind them, I hear Dad and Mom say in a voice message, "Sam and Alexis, you two did wonderfully! We really are so proud of you!" Another voice message rings out, this time from Alexis' parents. Bowing my head, I check my phone, only to realize that I'm not in the same group as them, nor did anyone bother to ask how I fared. Forget it. Since they have already chosen their paths, then I should also focus on heading toward my own future.

My roommates booked a New Year's Eve light show table—five hundred per person—and started urging me in the group chat to transfer the money. I quietly sent a screenshot of my account balance. "You guys go ahead," I wrote. "I haven't even scraped together my tuition yet." They replied with a string of mocking "haha"s. Our dorm leader, Giselle Murdoch, even posted on her social media with the caption: [The first step to crossing class boundaries is distancing yourself from people who kill the mood.] Just after midnight, they sent me a photo from the light show and said, "Too bad you're not here." I frowned, confused, when my counselor's call cut in—her voice tight with urgency. "Did you invite your roommates to the light show? The organizers said they never even checked in! They're missing!"

“What do you think people would say if they found out you don’t have a d**k?” Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. “Or if they discovered these voluptuous br**sts you’ve been hiding so well?” A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened ni**les, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes. “Which do you think they’d call you?” he murmured, eyes gleaming. “A boy with t*ts… or a d**kless little fraud?” I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me. “The term you’re looking for is ‘girl,’” came Xavier’s smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. “So tell me, little girl… what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?” Christian’s smirk widened. “She wants to be devoured by boys like us.” His fingers gave my ni**le one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. “And I’m more than happy to give her a taste.”