A Desperate Plea

Lydia’s pov.

I skipped the mirror on my way out of my bedroom. I knew I looked like a walking ghost, but vanity was a luxury I didn't possess this morning. My fingers scrambled over the desk, snagging my phone and my worn canvas work bag. I patted my pockets to make sure I had my keys. Nothing else mattered.

I was mere steps from the front door when Blair materialized in the hallway. She leaned against the wall, wearing the exact same smug, victorious smirk she had plastered on her face last night.

"Leaving so soon?" she purred. Her voice dripped with fake innocence, acting like a slow poison trying to work its way under my skin. "Enzo hasn't even finished his breakfast yet."

My stomach twisted. She wanted a reaction. She wanted to see me break.

"Stay out of my way, Blair. For real," I muttered.

I didn't stick around to hear whatever clever, biting comeback she had queued up in her head. I shoved past her shoulder, grabbed the heavy door handle, and marched out of the dorm.

I stepped right into a miserable, gray downpour.

Sheets of freezing rain battered the campus pavement. I didn't grab an umbrella, but I didn't care. The icy water soaked through my thin cotton shirt in a matter of seconds, plastering the fabric to my shivering skin. It was brutal, yet the biting cold felt vastly superior to spending another suffocating second inside that suite with her.

I kept my head down and trudged toward the campus coffee shop. Every step sent a dull throb through my temples. Puddles splashed against my worn sneakers, soaking my socks through.

By the time I reached the glass door of the café, I was numb.

I pushed inside. The brass bell jingled loud and sharp overhead. A wave of roasted espresso and thick, glorious heat hit me like a physical wall. I stood on the welcome mat, dripping water onto the linoleum floor, trying to catch my breath.

Tobias, my manager, looked up from the cash register. His eyebrows shot up, and he let out a low, long whistle.

"Lydia? You’re not on the schedule until four today. You look like a drowned rat, kid," he said, tossing a rag onto the counter.

"I’m fine," I lied through chattering teeth. I wrapped my arms tightly around my torso, trying to suppress the harsh shivers shaking my frame. "Tobias, do you have a minute? I really need to talk to you."

He frowned, his teasing demeanor dropping. "Sure, what's up? You look like you're about to have a breakdown."

"I have some major accommodation issues," I stammered, keeping my voice low. The shop was quiet, but I still felt exposed. "I can't stay in my dorm anymore. Like, I need a new place today."

Tobias rubbed a hand over his jaw, his expression tightening into a wince.

"Do you know anyone with a spare room?" I pleaded, taking a step closer. Water from my hair dripped onto my glasses, blurring my vision. "Or maybe a cheap studio nearby? I have some savings scraped together, but I need it right now. Tonight."

"Today? That's a tall order, Lydia," he sighed. "Most places near campus are booked solid this time of year. It's midterm season. Nobody is moving."

I let out a shaky, frustrated sigh. The heavy weight of my reality pressed down on my chest. I had nowhere to go.

"But you can post on the school website," Tobias suggested, pointing at my pocket. "I bet someone on the student forum could help you out. People sublet all the time."

I shook my head immediately, squeezing my eyes shut. "I can't. Everyone on that site is a shark, Tobias. I'm a scholarship kid. I don't belong in their world. If I post begging for a room, they'll just use it to rip me apart."

"Why do you care what they think? You really need it, don't you? Desperate times, Lydia," he pushed, crossing his arms.

I opened my mouth to shoot the idea down again. I wanted to tell him I would rather sleep in the library. But then the image of Blair and Enzo standing together in that hallway stabbed the back of my mind. Blair’s smug grin. Enzo’s sheer oblivion. The thought of walking back into that suite, of being the pathetic third wheel in my own home, made my throat close up.

I couldn't bear another second of that nightmare.

My shaking hands dug into my wet pocket. I pulled out my phone and loaded the Kingsmont elite website—a place I usually avoided like the plague unless I wanted to see who the upper-class kids were bullying that week.

My thumb hovered over the new post button. I took a sharp breath and tapped it.

I typed quickly, not giving myself time to overthink the humiliation. *Hi. Having major accommodation issues. If you have a room I can rent please, my DM is open. Urgent.*

I cringed in disgust. The text felt tacky. It reeked of poor, desperate scholarship girl. But I didn't have any other cards left to play.

I hit submit.

The app let out a soft ping, confirming my plea was now live on the public feed.

"Done," I muttered, showing the bright screen to Tobias.

He smiled warmly, leaning over the counter. "Good. Now we just wait and—"

A loud notification chime cut his words off.

I jerked my phone back and stared at the lock screen. My breath hitched in my throat.

Someone had replied. They didn't slide into my private messages. They commented right on the public thread.

*I have an apartment. Meet me at the cafeteria if you are interested.*

A wave of sheer relief washed over me. I wanted to scream in joy, but a stone-faced businessman sitting in the corner gave me a stern glare, snapping me back to reality.

"Someone replied! Already!" I gasped, shoving the phone back into Tobias’s face.

"See? I told you," he chuckled.

"Who is it? Can you tell?" I asked, my thumbs fumbling on the glass screen.

I read the username out loud. "C. Mercer."

The name meant nothing to me at first glance. I didn't exactly hang out with the elite crowd at this school. I figured it was probably a girl named Cassie, or maybe some quiet nerd who had a spare room and felt a shred of pity for me.

"So when are you meeting the mystery person?" Tobias asked, grabbing his rag again.

"They didn't give me a specific time, so I'm guessing they want to meet right now. It's almost lunch anyway," I said, glancing at the round clock on the wall. It read 9:45 a.m.

Tobias eyed my soaked clothes. "Go get ready. You can't meet a potential roommate looking like you just crawled out of a lake."

I nodded, thanking him quickly before bolting out the door.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle. I jogged back across campus, praying the dorm would be empty. I slid my key into the lock and pushed the door open. Silence greeted me. Enzo and Blair must have finally left for their morning classes.

I walked down the short hall. As I passed Enzo’s bedroom, I noticed the door was cracked open.

The stagnant air wafting from the gap hit my nose. It smelled like sex and cheap alcohol. A fresh wave of nausea churned in my gut. I reached out, grabbed the handle, and slammed his door shut.

I hurried into my own room. I stripped off my freezing, wet clothes and threw on my normal baggy denim jeans and a clean gray top. I dragged a brush through my damp hair, tying it back into a quick ponytail. I adjusted my glasses, checked my pale reflection once, and ran back out the door.

The campus cafeteria was a massive hall filled with arched windows and rows of circular tables. When I stepped through the double doors, it felt like the entire world stopped turning.

Eyes flicked toward me. For once, it wasn't the usual dismissive look of boredom they gave the scholarship kids.

I ignored the stares, keeping my head down, and searched for Table 7. The mystery user had sent a quick follow-up message naming the spot.

I found it tucked away in the far back corner. Someone was already sitting there.

From thirty feet away, I could see broad, tense shoulders clad in a dark, expensive-looking pea coat. Short, thick, dark hair.

Definitely not a girl named Cassie.

Panic flared in my chest. Shit. I hoped he wasn't some kind of campus pervert trying to take advantage of a desperate girl. I forced the thought down, tightened my grip on my bag, and walked closer.

I stopped at the edge of the table and let out a small cough to get his attention.

"Hi. I'm here about the apartment. You commented on my post," I started rambling, my voice a little too high.

The guy straightened his posture and turned around.

I stopped talking. I stopped breathing. The loud hum of the cafeteria seemed to vanish.

Because sitting in the chair, looking up at me with dark, piercing eyes, was Cassian Mercer.

He was the undisputed King of Kingsmont. The star hockey captain. He wore a coat that probably cost more than my entire year's tuition. Every girl on this campus had a massive crush on him. He moved through the school like royalty, successful, untouchable, existing in a universe I couldn't even fathom reaching.

Those dark eyes, which I hadn't seen this close in over a decade, widened. A flicker of genuine surprise broke through his usual guarded mask.

"Lydia?" he asked. His voice was a low, rough velvet that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.

My mouth felt dry. I managed a slow, jerky nod. "Hi, Cassian."

He stared at me for a long beat. "It's been... ages," he murmured. The surprise vanished quickly, replaced by a calm focus. "I heard you were on campus, but I haven't seen you since—since you were about knee-high. I left campus with my father's company shortly after, remember?"

"I do," I mumbled, twisting the strap of my bag. "You... you were gone for a long time."

"For a while, yeah. But I'm back now, obviously," he said. A ghost of a smile touched the corner of his lips. He leaned back in his chair, resting his large hands on the table. His expression turned serious. "So, the apartment. I saw your post. What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I am," I lied, the words tumbling out too fast. "Just accommodation issues. A misunderstanding with my... current situation."

He watched me. His gaze was heavy, unwavering, like he knew exactly what I was trying to hide. He didn't push for the details.

"I have a place near the Summit," Cassian stated. "You can have the guest suite."

He didn't whisper. He didn't lower his voice to keep the offer private.

The tables surrounding us had gone dead silent.

I glanced around. The entire back half of the cafeteria had stopped eating. Every single jaw was hanging open in total shock.

"Huh? You... you really mean it?" I whispered, my brain short-circuiting. "I-I thought you didn't even remember me."

"I knew who you were, Lyd," he said smoothly.

The old nickname felt like a physical punch to my gut. It dragged up a dozen buried memories. I almost forgot that he and Enzo came up with that name for me. Hearing it from his mouth now messed with my head.

"And yes, I mean it," Cassian continued, unfazed by the growing audience. "I won't overcharge you, and I rarely use it anyway."

He kept talking, but a loud buzzing filled my ears. I couldn't process the reality of the situation.

Cassian reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a pen, and scribbled something onto a piece of paper. He held it out to me.

Mindlessly, on autopilot, I reached out and took it. It was a phone number and a high-end address.

"Call me when you're ready to move," he instructed.

He didn't ask if I accepted. He didn't wait for an answer.

Cassian stood up and walked away, his strides long and confident, acting like he owned every single inch of the floor beneath his boots. The crowd practically parted for him.

I stood frozen by Table 7, clutching the paper.

I watched him disappear through the heavy double doors, then slowly turned my head and looked back at the students.

Dozens of elite students were staring at me. Their eyes were dark and predatory. I saw a sickening mix of boiling envy, raw disgust, and pure, unadulterated hate directed right at my face.

At that moment, under the crushing weight of their stares, I wanted the polished cafeteria floor to open up and swallow me.