Chapter 2
1193words
After all, his world was immense, his social circle vast—surely one more insignificant addition wouldn't matter much.
This secret yearning compelled her to check the university's online forum.
She needed to know if she alone harbored such ridiculous fantasies.
The results simultaneously reassured and devastated her—threads about him dominated the trending section, filled with girls sharing identical dreams. One highly upvoted comment doused her hopes like ice water:
"Wake up, Cinderellas. President Blackwood shows the same courtesy to everyone—including the campus strays. It means nothing. Do yourselves a favor and abandon these pathetic fantasies before you embarrass yourselves."
A stubborn defiance welled up inside her. Holding her breath, she typed a response with trembling fingers:
"Don't be so definitive. What if... the president actually does have feelings for someone?"
The moment she hit send, crushing regret and self-loathing washed over her. She knew her words were merely a desperate attempt to breathe life into her pathetic fantasy.
Asher's birthday approached rapidly.
Luna had witnessed firsthand how beautiful, wealthy girls clutching exquisitely wrapped packages waited nervously outside the student council office to present their offerings.
And he was always consistent—polite smile, gentle refusal.
"He doesn't accept gifts from people who aren't close to him."
—This was the prevailing wisdom on the forum.
She wanted to give him something too.
But her stipend barely covered essentials, let alone luxury items.
After agonizing deliberation, she spent her entire savings on the most expensive specialty paper she could find—sheets that shimmered like captured starlight.
Three days later, a crimson rose so deep it bordered on black bloomed perfectly in her palm.
The color was bewitchingly beautiful, reminiscent of that fleeting, mysterious light she'd glimpsed in the depths of his eyes.
Her gift was complete.
But her courage had evaporated entirely.
She feared rejection, feared seeing polite detachment in those beautiful eyes—the kind reserved for strangers. Perhaps to him, their encounter had been no different than rescuing a stray cat.
As Luna clutched the paper rose, ready to bury her feelings alongside her audacious dreams, the dormitory door burst open.
Her roommate brandished her phone with the expression of someone who'd discovered buried treasure. "Well, well, Luna! You've been holding out on us! Is this a real-life Cinderella story unfolding?"
With her secret so brutally exposed, blood rushed to Luna's face. She struggled to maintain composure: "...What?"
"Playing dumb?" Her roommate laughed, thrusting the phone screen into Luna's face. "The forum's blowing up! Someone posted anonymously that the president might have feelings for someone, then some tech genius traced the IP address—it came from our dorm! Everyone's betting it's that scholarship girl Sutter was harassing before President Blackwood swooped in to save her... That's you, isn't it, Luna?"
Her roommate's half-teasing accusation drained the blood from Luna's face before it rushed back with vengeance. Shame crashed over her like a tsunami, drowning her completely.
Beneath her comment, now trending wildly, the tide of opinion had shifted dramatically.
What began as innocent speculation about the president's love life had morphed into a vicious witch hunt targeting her specifically.
"LMAO, it's that charity case? Talk about a toad lusting after swan meat. Pathetic."
"No wonder she's not kissing Sutter's ass anymore. Thinks she's landed the president and can suddenly act like somebody?"
"Don't be jealous, guys. Maybe she's got something special? But Blackwood's family... we're talking old-money aristocracy going back centuries. Thinking a pretty face is enough to become Cinderella? Dream on."
"Whoever doxxed her deserves a medal!"
Vicious speculation and cruel mockery leapt from the screen, coiling around her throat until she could barely breathe.
She couldn't imagine who had so effortlessly exposed her personal information.
Crossing campus became a gauntlet of scrutinizing stares and barely-concealed whispers that seemed to follow her everywhere.
At this vulnerable moment, the same pretty girl who'd shoulder-checked her earlier materialized to block her path in a narrow walkway.
"Well, if it isn't our future First Lady?" the girl sneered, arms crossed. Her entourage erupted in synchronized laughter.
"Didn't you claim online that President Blackwood might actually have feelings for you?"
She lifted her chin imperiously. "If you've got any backbone, give him a birthday gift. We'll all be watching to see if he actually accepts it."
Luna's nails bit into her palms. She recognized the perfectly baited trap. To go meant certain humiliation; to refuse meant admitting her words were empty fantasies.
"Whether he accepts it or not isn't your concern." She lifted her chin and forced the words through gritted teeth.
"Ha! Still delusional?" The girl laughed as if hearing the world's funniest joke. "You're just terrified! Besides, what makes you think you're even worthy?"
Unable to endure their taunts, Luna fled. She found refuge in a deserted library corner where tears she'd fought to contain finally broke free.
Why had she responded to that post? Why had she nurtured such impossible dreams?
After what felt like hours, a gentle voice—like sunlight piercing storm clouds—broke through her misery.
"Professor Sutter causing problems again?"
Luna's head snapped up to find Asher standing before her, his brow furrowed slightly, those extraordinary eyes filled with apparent concern.
Why was he here?
His presence instantly magnified her humiliation, embarrassment, and heartache to unbearable levels.
She hastily wiped her tears, shaking her head frantically, but her throat constricted, choking off any response. She could only bow her head, mortified that he should see her so pathetic.
Asher settled beside her, offering a tissue without demanding explanations.
Silence stretched between them.
Eventually, Asher broke the tension with a deliberately casual tone that seemed almost offhand:
"My birthday's coming up. I'm hosting a small gathering at my villa outside the city. Would you like to attend?"
Luna looked up in shock, her tear-swollen eyes wide like a startled rabbit's.
Had she... heard correctly? Wasn't Asher Blackwood's birthday celebration an exclusive event for his innermost circle?
Seeing her stunned expression, Asher laughed softly. He tilted his head, his voice carrying a hint of boyish eagerness:
"One condition, though—you must bring me a gift."
Luna's mind went blank.
"Birthdays are for receiving presents, after all," he said, his smile reaching those extraordinary eyes. "I'm especially looking forward to yours."
He's... looking forward to... my gift?
Luna felt as if an invisible hand had seized her heart and launched it skyward.
He'd rejected countless expensive, meticulously chosen offerings, yet told her he anticipated hers? Did this mean she'd somehow, without realizing it, become someone "close" to him—someone who mattered?
Those who'd mocked her as a toad lusting after swan meat, who'd declared her dreams impossible, who'd waited eagerly for her humiliation... their faces, in this moment, seemed collectively slapped by Asher's casual invitation.
Luna couldn't recall how she'd made it back to her dorm that day.
She carefully retrieved the crimson-black paper rose; under the light, the stardust scattered across its surface genuinely seemed to capture starlight.
She couldn't fathom Asher's true thoughts. Perhaps this was all still just an elaborate fantasy.
But did it matter?
