The clock is ticking. Ticktock, ticktock—it sounds so loud that it seems to compete with the sound of my heart.

Everything has come to a standstill. Although the world around me doesn't seem to stop, even though my heart is about to burst. It's just lights, noise, and a small, incessant beeping that threatens to shatter my ear.

I knew she would die, I've known it for a while now. It's not exactly her death that has taken the wind out of me. It is not the fact that I have lost my mother after only 16 years of life.

But it is what she has revealed—what she has kept inside herself until the last second of her life.

Her bruised and weak fingers have not let go of my hand, not since those words left her whitish lips.

"Your father— your father is—"

The loud sound of someone's horn brings me back to the present. A distracted girl hasn't noticed a car coming and almost has an accident. The poor, frightened girl apologizes to the gentleman and runs to the university entrance.

I regulate my breathing, adjusting my thoughts. I look at the papers next to me. The photo I took just yesterday is sticking out of one of the folders.

Black hair, longer than I've ever worn it. A change for a new beginning. A purpose and a goal.

I look at myself in the car mirror one more time before putting dark glasses over my eyes. I look down at the little denim skirt that covers just enough and the gray t-shirt that reveals my shoulders.

I grab the papers and my small purse and walk towards the entrance. Without having entered before, but knowing well who I'm looking for.

The first day of college goes as any first day, the lines of new students with guides are the most noticeable, but the students of years continue to crowd with their old classmates, hoping to be together in some classes.

I search with my eyes, ignoring those who walk past me. I know my clothes are not appropriate, not for a college day at least, but precisely what I want is to be noticed.

Let them think what they want, I need them to think about what it is not.

I notice a brown guy right next to a staircase, he's talking to some other guys.

I don't let myself see them much, my eyes are on that brown guy.

His suitcase is a little open, but it doesn't look like he has anything in it anyway. A relaxed smile dances on his lips as he laughs with the other guys.

My footsteps don't stop for a second. I see the stairs and don't hesitate.

This could end very well or very badly, but that's something to analyze later.

I notice a distracted girl walking near them and quicken my pace. I collide with her, and I go sideways, colliding again with the brown guy.

I open my mouth as I feel myself falling down the stairs, but a strong arm holds me, preventing me from falling.

It went well then.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, watch out!" the guy's voice echoes in my ear. I listen as the girl apologizes, but when I straighten up, she's already gone. "Are you okay?"

I let out a single breath before lifting my hand and pulling my sunglasses away from my eyes.

"I'm so sorry!" My smile grows as I notice the guy's surprise at seeing my eyes.

My green contact lenses were an investment, buying ones that look real enough is already a big job, but adding the necessary degrees for my blindness to be fixed was another couple of zeros on the bill.

"I collided with a girl and slipped." I say, pointing to my heels.

So big that the guy barely misses me by a few inches when he should be passing me by a couple of heads.

The guy's smile grows.

"You shouldn't wear such big shoes," he says, but there's no annoyance in his voice, just the overflowing charm that characterizes him.

"Are you a new admission?" My smile freezes at the second guy's voice.

It takes me only a few seconds, which seem like an eternity, to get up the courage to turn around and look at him.

He looks just like the picture.

Blond hair and blue eyes that take your breath away. He's taller than I imagined—taller than the guy who's still holding my hand but takes it away when I notice.

"Does it show much?" I ask with a sideways smile, the only smile I can force myself to share with the person in front of me.

A click of the tongue makes me turn to the third guy.

Black hair and eyes of the same color. Now that I get a good look at him, his whole aura is black, black, black.

But my smile doesn't diminish when my brain manages to recognize him. The last guy in the group of friends. Just like they say he is.

The brown-haired guy takes the paper from my hand, a sheet I printed out at one of the sleazy stores far away from campus.

"Private orientation? Did you pay for this orientation?" His eyes travel to mine and then pass the sheet to the blond, who frowns. The black-haired guy doesn't seem the least bit interested in the small talk.

"A guy offered to give me a tour of campus." I grab my phone from my small purse, the only thing that barely fits. "I've been trying to reach him for the last half hour, but he doesn't seem to be taking calls." I bite my lip, typing the random number, anything.

The three guys are silent, the blond and the chestnut-hair guy looking at each other with pity and a bit of amusement.

"The guy you mention—do you know him?"

I open my mouth, trying to give them the answer they are looking for, but at my confusion, the brown one sighs.

"It was a scam, right?" I ask, dropping my hand from my phone, making sure the guys see the large number of messages I've sent to a number with no profile picture.

"You think?" the black-haired guy speaks up, giving me a mocking look without holding back in the slightest.

My urge to roll my eyes is so great that I decide to close my eyes.

"I'm so sorry; unfortunately, it's something that happens to newcomers all too often." The blonde hands me the sheet, but I look away as quickly as I can without being rude.

I turn to look at the chestnut-hair guy, trying to calm my heart that is about to burst.

"I was told it was going to happen to me at some point, but I didn't think it would be this fast."

A low chuckle courtesy of the black-haired guy makes me realize that the silly girl image is already forming in his mind. Well, that's all I need you to think about.

"Don't worry, we can give you the tour if you want." The chestnut-haired guy's eyes hold mischief, and my smile grows. "I'm Ash, this is Oli. "He says, pointing to the blond, who gives me a small smile, which I fail to return. "And this is—"

"She doesn't need to know my name." The black-haired guy's cold words don't surprise me, but they do surprise the girl I'm playing at being.

I look nervously at Ash who gives me an apologetic smile, while Oli looks at him reproachfully.

"My name is Sophia Young. Thank you so much for helping me." My smile grows as I watch out of the corner of my eye as Oli nods and Ash smiles too. I smile, my eyes lighting up as I look directly into the black eyes of Ian Hill, the black-haired guy watching me, wondering, with slightly narrowed eyes, if he knows anyone with my last name.

The campus tour was so boring that I am amazed at my ability to not listen to anything they talk about but still laugh or nod at specific moments.

Through my mind goes all the previously recapped information of the three individuals in front of me, filling it with new information that I can recap at this moment as I watch them talk, see how they walk around campus, and how they interact with the people who stop them to greet them.

First up is the chestnut Asher Mitchel, third son of a great Scottish royal family, his father is also the seventh son in his family, which makes his or Asher's accession to the throne almost impossible. They have long since moved to the United States. Asher has no relationship with his royal relatives, as his father kept it from him until he was 18. He showed no major interest but still lives as if he were king himself.

I turn to the campus behind us, looking sideways at the black-haired man who has stayed behind with a bitter face, as if they had killed his puppy or something.

Ian Hill, the fact that he didn't want to reveal his name to me is not because he's a celebrity or anything, it's merely his shitty personality that makes him behave like one. There is not much info on him, he comes from a family of money, but nothing that screams controversy or corruption. The guy arrived a couple of months ago in town, his parents—well, whether they are alive or not is beyond my knowledge, as is the reason he befriended the other two.

I smile at Ash when he makes a comment about the lab next to us.

I looked at him with excitement, not reflecting the boredom that prompts me to run away.

My heart flutters as I notice the blond's slight smile at his friend's comment.

Oliver Morgan is the son of none other than the governor of this damn city. His mother is a housewife, mostly devoted to her husband's foundations and keeping her mouth shut when the tabloids come out with some criticism of her husband. Oli is studying to be governor as well, and since his admiration for his father is ridiculously naive, he will follow in his footsteps no matter what.

A strong wind makes his blond hair move a little, he adjusts it without blinking before smiling at me and noticing my gaze. I looked away immediately.

I wonder if my hair wasn't dyed and if my eyes were free of stupid contact lenses, how much I would look like him. Being nothing more, and nothing less, than my stepbrother.