Snow’s Point of View:

The cafeteria buzzed with activity as students milled about, balancing trays of food and shouting across tables. I stuck close to Nia as we navigated the chaos. She had a confident stride, like she owned the place, and I couldn’t help but feel a little in awe of how easy she made everything look.

“Yo, Troy!” Nia called out, her voice cutting through the noise as she stopped in front of a tall guy sitting alone at a corner table.

He looked completely unbothered, earbuds in and eyes focused on his phone. His sharp features and relaxed posture gave him an air of exclusivity, like he wasn’t entirely present in the world around him.

I glanced around the cafeteria, suddenly reminded that this wasn’t just any college. This was a place for the wealthy, the elite. Even though I hadn’t drawn much attention from others, I could still feel the subtle aura of privilege in the air. Maybe people didn’t give me strange looks because of my hair, but I wasn’t sure if I fully belonged here either.

“This dude,” Nia muttered with a smirk, rolling her eyes as she gestured toward Troy.

Her comment made me giggle, and she turned to look at me, her lips curling into a small smile. I felt my cheeks heat up slightly under her gaze. She had this way of looking at me—like she was studying my face, trying to commit it to memory.

Before I could say anything, Nia stepped forward and smacked Troy on the back of his head.

“Hey!” he hissed, jerking upright as he turned to glare at her.

But when his eyes landed on me, his expression shifted. He blinked, his annoyance fading into curiosity.

“Oh,” he mumbled, pulling out his earbuds and tucking them into his pocket. “Newbie.”

“Snow,” Nia corrected, smirking as she motioned toward me. “This is Snow. She’s an art student like me.”

Troy’s dark eyes studied me for a moment, and I felt like he could see right through me. His intensity made me a little uncomfortable, but there was something oddly captivating about it too.

“Nice to meet you, Snow,” he said finally, his tone casual. “You surviving your first day?”

“Barely,” I said, trying to sound lighthearted.

That earned me a small smile from him, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Yeah, this place can be... a lot. But you’ll get the hang of it.”

“Troy’s a bit of a recluse,” Nia said, nudging him playfully. “But he’s one of the good ones. Once you get past the moody artist vibe.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “Ignore her. I’m just here for the food.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a little more at ease. Nia had this way of making people feel included, and even though Troy seemed a bit aloof, there was a warmth to him that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I could start to find my place here.

“Come on,” Nia said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward an empty chair. “You’re sitting with us.”

Troy gave me a brief nod, then turned back to his phone, but not before I caught the faintest trace of a smile.