The scent of turpentine usually calmed Mia Brown. Today, it just amplified her irritation. She stared at the canvas, a riot of chaotic brushstrokes meant to capture the frenetic energy of the city. Instead, it mirrored the persistent, annoying presence of Kris Windsor.

He was everywhere. The golden boy of the Business faculty, Kris, moved through campus like he owned the air, all sharp suits, sharper wit, and a perpetual smirk that suggested he knew the exact market value of every breath you took. Mia, an art major, lived in a world of vibrant chaos. Kris existed in a realm of calculated order. Naturally, their paths collided with the destructive force of a perfectly aimed meteor.

Today's collision point: the overcrowded student lounge, specifically the coffee machine. Mia, armed with her well-worn sketching pad and a desperate need for caffeine, navigated the throngs, only to find Kris already there, leaning against the counter, commanding attention without saying a word. He was mid-conversation with a group of admiring Business students, radiating an aura of effortless superiority.

"Seriously, Kris? Is there no corner of this campus safe from your... efficiency?" Mia muttered, loud enough for him to hear, as she reached for the milk.

Kris turned slowly, his dark eyes, usually cold and calculating, now alight with a familiar challenge. A smirk played on his lips. "Mia. Surprised to see you out of your art cave. Thought you only emerged for full moons and existential crises."

Mia scoffed. "And I thought you only left the stock market reports long enough to polish your expensive shoes. Don't you have a Fortune 500 company to buy out before noon?"

His jaw tightened, just slightly. "Clever, Mia. But some of us are here to actually make something of ourselves, not just splash paint on a canvas and call it 'expression'." He gestured dismissively towards her sketching pad.

"And some of us prefer creating something beautiful to just counting money," Mia shot back, her voice rising, drawing a few curious glances. "At least my work has soul, not just spreadsheets!"

"Souls don't pay bills, Mia," he retorted, his voice calm but sharp. "Profit does."

"And creativity fuels innovation, Kris! Something your rigid little world could use a lot more of!"

Just then, James, Mia's best friend, appeared, a wide grin on his face. He'd seen this show many times before, usually dragged into it by Mia. "Alright, alright, break it up, you two. You're going to spontaneously combust and ruin the lounge's aesthetic." He clapped Mia on the shoulder. "Seriously, Mia, the tension between you two could power the whole university for a week."

Mia rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept up her neck. "He's just annoying, James. That's not 'tension', that's 'irritation'."

Kris, however, didn't deny it. He just held Mia's gaze, a challenging glint in his eyes that spoke volumes. The air between them, thick with their usual sparring, felt different today, charged with an undeniable current.

As Kris finally turned to leave with his entourage, his parting shot was low, meant only for Mia. "Enjoy your 'soulful' coffee, Mia. Don't spill any on your genius."

Mia watched him go, clutching her coffee mug, her heart pounding a furious rhythm. She hated him. Absolutely hated him. But even she had to admit, campus life was never boring when Kris Windsor was around.

The cafeteria was usually Mia's sanctuary, a place where she could people-watch, sketch, and grab a decent sandwich without incident. Today, however, fate seemed determined to test her patience. As she navigated her tray through the lunch rush, she saw him. Kris Windsor, holding court at a large table, surrounded by his usual disciples, all impeccably dressed future CEOs.

And right next to his table, a familiar head of messy brown hair. James.

Mia's heart sank. James was usually smart enough to avoid Kris's orbit. As she got closer, she heard snippets of conversation.

"So, James, still pursuing those... creative arts?" Kris's voice was smooth, but laced with a condescending amusement that made Mia's blood boil. His friends chuckled, clearly enjoying the show. "Trying to find yourself through amateur theatrics, are we? Real talent gets you a spot among the elite, not on a makeshift stage."

James, usually unflappable, looked visibly uncomfortable, fiddling with his fork. He clearly didn't like being put on the spot, especially by Kris.

That was it. Mia slammed her tray down on a nearby table, making a loud clatter that silenced the surrounding conversations. Kris's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he spotted her.

"Leave him alone, Kris," Mia's voice was low, but every word dripped with ice. "James has more talent in his pinky finger than you have in your entire, perfectly-tailored, soulless existence."

Kris pushed back his chair, slowly rising. "Ah, Mia. Always appearing when least expected, and most inconveniently. Defending your little troupe of... dreamers?" He smirked, his gaze sweeping over her paint-splattered jeans and the smudge of charcoal on her cheek. "Still playing in the kiddie pool, I see."

"And you're still playing the campus tyrant, pushing everyone around just because you think your daddy's money gives you the right!" Mia stepped closer, ignoring James's wide-eyed warning look. "Some of us actually work for what we have, Kris, and don't need to step on others to feel big!"

"Work?" Kris's laugh was sharp, mocking. "Splashing paint around and pretending it's profound? That's not work, Mia. That's a hobby. Work is strategy. Numbers. Dominance."

"Dominance is what small-minded bullies seek, Kris!" Mia's voice rose, her hands clenching into fists. "Real power comes from within, from creating, from inspiring, not from tearing down anyone who doesn't fit into your neat little spreadsheet!"

The cafeteria had gone completely silent. Everyone was watching, captivated by the raw fury emanating from Mia, and the cool, controlled rage beginning to simmer in Kris's eyes. Their rivalry wasn't just campus gossip; it was a live wire.

Kris took another step, closing the distance between them. "You think you know me, Mia?" His voice was a dangerous whisper. "You have no idea."

Mia stood her ground, fire in her own gaze. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea, Kris. You're a spoiled, arrogant prince who needs a reality check."

A muscle twitched in Kris's jaw. He was usually so composed, but Mia knew how to get under his skin like no one else. For a moment, it looked like he might actually lose his temper, something Mia had never witnessed.

Then, with a supreme effort, he reined himself in. His eyes, still blazing, swept over her one last time before he turned abruptly. "This conversation isn't over, Mia," he said, his voice flat with menace, and then he walked away, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

Mia stood there, trembling slightly, a mix of adrenaline and fury coursing through her veins. James rushed to her side. "Mia! Are you crazy? You can't just talk to him like that!"

"Someone has to," Mia breathed, her gaze still fixed on the empty space where Kris had been. "Someone has to tell that idiot he's not invincible."

The English Literacy class was usually a quiet hum of activity, but today, a palpable tension filled the air. Joey nervously shuffled his papers at his desk, his eyes darting around the room in a panic, clearly trying to avoid someone's gaze. Kris leaned back in his chair a few rows ahead, a smug grin playing on his lips as he watched Joey's discomfort.

"Lost something, Joey?" Kris's voice cut through the low murmur of the classroom, tinged with feigned concern that was far more menacing than outright anger. "Seems a little... clumsy today, wouldn't you say?"

Joey's hands trembled as he fumbled through his bag, his face pale with anxiety. He didn't answer, just kept his head down.

Kris's eyes narrowed, his patience clearly wearing thin. He pushed off his chair, a slow, deliberate movement that commanded attention. "You deaf, Joey? I asked you a question."

Before Joey could respond, Kris's temper flared. His fists clenched, and he advanced on Joey's desk, his intent clear.

But before he could deliver a blow, a voice rang out from across the room, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Kris, stop!"

It was Sam, Kris's best friend, his voice trembling with urgency as he stepped between Kris and Joey, his hands raised in a plea for peace.

"The teacher is about to come," Sam continued, his tone desperate. "You can't do this here. Not now."

Kris hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between Joey and Sam. Then, with a frustrated sigh that was more like a growl, he backed away, his anger simmering beneath the surface as he resumed his seat, glaring daggers at Joey.

Meanwhile, amidst this simmering chaos, Mia stood at the front of the classroom, her expression a mask of steely determination, as she collected the worksheets from her classmates. She'd seen Kris's bullying tactics too many times, and her jaw was tight. As she moved down the rows of desks, her eyes locked with Kris's, a silent challenge passing between them.

With a slow, devious smirk, Kris extended his leg, his foot intentionally tripping Mia as she passed by his desk. The sudden movement sent Mia sprawling to the ground, her collected papers scattering across the floor like autumn leaves as laughter erupted from some of the other students.

"Nice one, Kris!" someone shouted, their voice quickly drowned out by the chorus of giggles that followed.

Mia's cheeks burned with humiliation as she struggled to regain her composure, her hands trembling with barely suppressed rage. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the scattered papers for a moment, and turned to face Kris. Her eyes blazed with fury as she confronted him in front of the entire class.

"How dare you!" she seethed, her voice sharp with indignation, echoing in the suddenly quiet room. "You did that on purpose!"

Kris's smirk widened into a triumphant grin as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze meeting hers with an insolent challenge.

"And what are you going to do about it, Mia?" he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You can't touch me."

Before Mia could launch her next fiery retort, the classroom door swung open, and the teacher's stern gaze swept over the unruly class with disapproval.

"That's enough!" she barked, her voice cutting through the remaining whispers like a whip. "Mia, Kris, my office. Now."

As the class fell silent, the weight of the teacher's words hung heavy in the air, a harbinger of the consequences to come. And as Mia and Kris made their way to the teacher's office, the tension between them crackled with unresolved anger, their clash was far from over. In the teacher's office, after a stern lecture, they were both given a three-hour detention as punishment, leaving Mia seething with anger and Kris simmering with resentment.