The first bell at St. Marin University always rang a little too loud.

It was the sound of a thousand footsteps, conversations, and camera flashes bouncing off old brick walls — the kind of chaos only a university like this could hold.

And right in the center of it all, leaning against a matte-black motorcycle, was Luca Rossi.

The headmaster’s son.

He looked like trouble — the beautiful, quiet kind. The kind that smiles just before the fire starts.

A single earpiece dangled from his neck, a cigarette hung between his fingers, and faint lines of ink curled beneath his sleeve — small, intricate tattoos, each one meaning something no one else could understand or feel

Luca had everything that should’ve made life perfect — money, a name people respected, a father powerful enough to silence anything he touched.

But perfection had never felt this hollow.

People said his mother was an angel. Who gave up her life for his.

His father never looked at him the same after she died.

And maybe that’s why Luca learned to stop looking for anyone’s approval — or love.

He wasn’t cruel, but he was distant.

He laughed, but never too long.

He flirted, but never stayed.

His friends — Damon, Kai, and Isla — were the only constants in his chaos. They were loud, wild, and reckless.

Together, they were the campus legends: tattoos, smoke, heartbreaks, and late-night parties that always ended in sirens.

That afternoon, Damon flicked a lighter toward Luca, grinning.

“Lakehouse party tonight. You in, or still playing the mysterious prince act?”

Luca smirked faintly, catching the lighter midair.

“Maybe.”

Isla rolled her eyes. “That’s it ?

Kai chuckled, shoving Luca’s shoulder. “He’ll show up. He does.”

The music, the laughter, the noise — it drowned the silence that haunt him.

At least, he believed it was the only way to live through

As classes ended, the courtyard began to thin out.

Luca stayed behind, sitting on the old marble bench under the clock tower.

Students passed him like wind — whispers and glances floating behind them.

That’s him.

The headmaster’s son.

He’s gorgeous, he’s

He didn’t care.

He pulled out a sketchbook, flipping through messy lines and half-finished drawings — ghosts of moments he didn’t want to forget, but couldn’t fully remember.

His mother’s hands.

The sea.

A compass he once drew as a child — the arrow broken in half.

He stared at it for a long while.

A compass that couldn’t point anywhere.

A boy who didn’t know where home was anymore.

Just as he was about to leave, something — or someone — caught his eye.

Across the courtyard, a girl stood near the library steps, trying to balance a stack of books that looked way too heavy for her arms.

Her hair fell into her face as she stumbled, one book slipping to the ground.

Luca’s first instinct was to look away —

but he didn’t.

He watched her kneel down, mumbling to herself as she picked up the fallen book.

The sunlight caught her hair, soft against her cheek.

There was something about her — something that didn’t fit into the noise of the world around them.

He didn’t know her name.

Didn’t care to.

But when she looked up for half a second, their eyes met.

Brief. Quiet. Real.

For a moment, something inside him — the part that had been asleep for years — moved.

She smiled, small and polite, before turning away and walking toward the dorms.

Luca watched until she disappeared behind the archway.

...Then he closed his sketchbook, tore out the page with the broken compass, and let it drift to the ground....

The gates of St. Marin University loomed higher than Emilia ever imagined.

She stood there, one hand gripping her suitcase, the other shading her eyes from the sun.

So this was it — the place everyone called a second chance for the lucky few.

Emilia Moretti didn’t feel lucky.

She felt small.

Her mother had cried when she left home that morning — tears mixed with pride and fear.

“You’re going to do great things, Em,” she had said, hugging her too tightly.

But as the bus rumbled away from the city, all Emilia could think about was how far away that small, warm apartment now seemed.

Her father?

He’d left when she was eight.

Now, all she had was her mother’s faith, a scholarship that barely covered rent, and a heart that still believed in something good — even when everything else didn’t.

The dorm building was older than she expected — ivy crawling up its sides, wood creaking with stories it had seen before.

Inside, the air smelled like books, dust, and distant perfume.

She found her room at the end of the hall — Room 214.

A small silver plaque hung crooked on the door.

She knocked softly before pushing it open.

“Hey, you must be my new roommate.”

The voice came from a girl sitting cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through her phone.

She had short lavender-dyed hair, winged eyeliner, and an easy grin.

“I’m Maya,” she said. “I already stole the good side of the room.”

Emilia smiled awkwardly. “That’s fine. I’m… Emilia.”

Maya winked. “Cute name. You nervous? You look nervous.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Oh, totally.”

They laughed,

As she unpacked, she noticed a small newspaper clipping pinned on Maya’s corkboard — an article titled:

“Headmaster’s Son Caught Leaving Campus Party at 2 a.m.”

Emilia frowned. “Who’s that?”

Maya looked up and smirked. “Oh, him? That’s Luca Rossi. The school’s golden son.”

Emilia blinked. “Golden what?”

“Trust me,” Maya said, flopping back on her bed. “You’ll know him when you see him. Everyone does. He’s the headmaster’s son — rich, charming, has that whole tortured-artist vibe going on. And, rumor says, a trail of broken hearts long enough to circle the school twice.”

Emilia chuckled softly. “Sounds dramatic.”

“Because it is.” Maya grinned. “Anyway, stay away from him. He doesn’t do normal girls.”

Emilia shrugged. “Well. I’m not interested.”

Later that evening, as she walked to the library down the hall — a towering room of old stone and echoes — she noticed someone sitting alone down the corridor at the library sketching

He was sketching something in his notebook, a single earbud in, head bowed low something about him looked

Emilia took a seat near the window, trying not to stare.

But halfway through the hall , the boy looked up — just once — and their eyes met.

Luca Rossi.

He didn’t smile.

Didn’t nod.

Just looked at her for a second that stretched too long, then went back to drawing.

Her stomach flipped — not because he was handsome (though he was), but because his eyes looked like they’d seen too much.

Emilia walk though grabbing some book for tomorrow lecture, pretending not to watch him leave.

He didn’t even glance her way.

But when she finally stepped outside, a folded piece of paper drifted to the floor near her feet.

She bent to pick it up — a torn corner of a sketchbook page.

Drawn on it was a broken compass.

“Enjoying FALL FOR ME? 💜

Don’t forget to like, comment, and share your thoughts — your support means everything to me! 🌑

The broken compass sketch stayed in her notebook.

Emilia didn’t know why she kept it — maybe curiosity, maybe the quiet pull of something unfinished.

Days passed quickly at St. Marin University.

Classes, long hours in the library, and Maya’s endless chatter about campus gossip kept her occupied.

But sometimes, between pages and paragraphs, her mind would wander — to the boy with quiet eyes and ink on his fingers.

She started noticing things.

The way Luca sat in the cafeteria — never alone, but never really there either.

He laughed when his friends did, but his smile never reached his eyes.

He wore the same leather bracelet every day, one with faded initials carved inside.

And sometimes, when no one was looking, he’d press his thumb against it like it meant something.

Maya caught her staring once.

“Earth to Emilia,” she teased, waving a fork. “You good?”

Emilia blinked. “Just… zoning out.”

Maya smirked. “Sure. Zoning out right at Luca Rossi’s table.”

Emilia sighed. “He’s just… interesting. That’s all.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say before they crash and burn.”

Emilia smiled faintly and went back to her food.

But she couldn’t help noticing again the next day.

It wasn’t that she wanted to. It just… happened.

⸻

Friday came with the kind of energy that hinted at trouble — music echoing from dorm halls, laughter spilling out into courtyards, the air heavy with weekend

Maya threw open the closet. “We’re going out tonight.”

“I’m not,” Emilia said without looking up from her laptop.

“Oh, come on! It’s the start-of-term bash. You’ve been buried in that computer. Live a little!”

“I’ll live tomorrow. After sleep.”

Maya groaned. “You sound like my mother trying to make me a good kid. Okay, fine. But if you change your mind, I’ll be with them.”

“Them?”

Maya gave her a knowing smile. “Luca’s group. They invited me to tag along.”

Emilia’s fingers froze on the keyboard. “Luca Rossi?”

“Who else? Don’t worry — I’ll tell him the scholarship girl said hi.”

“Maya!”

She laughed, already halfway out the door. “Relax, Emilia. He probably doesn’t even remember you.”

⸻

But he did.

Because when Emilia crossed the courtyard later the evening — backpack slung over one shoulder, earbuds in — she saw them.

Luca and his group standing near the parking lot, loud and alive, the night glinting off someone’s car.

He was leaning against the hood, cigarette in hand, his laughter low and careless.

A girl stood close to him — too close — whispering something that made him smirk.

For a second, Emilia thought he hadn’t seen her.

But then his gaze lifted.

Straight to her.

It wasn’t long, maybe two seconds, but it was enough to make her heartbeat quicken.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t wave. Didn’t smile.

He just looked — with that same unreadable expression — then turned back to his friends.

And that was all it took to remind Emilia exactly where she stood.

The scholarship girl.

A face in the crowd.

⸻

When Maya stumbled in later that night, half-laughing, half-exhausted, Emilia was still awake.

“So?” Emilia asked quietly.

Maya flopped onto her bed. “You were right. He’s… different. Charming, but in that way that makes you wish you hadn’t looked twice.”

Emilia closed her laptop. “And did you?”

Maya grinned. “Maybe once. Don’t worry, I’m not joining his fan club.”

Emilia smiled faintly, turning off her lamp.

She closed her laptop after a long day of studying, her mind still lingering on what the guy had been sketching. She tried to brush it off, letting the thought fade, and drifted into sleep.