Episode 2: The New Girl

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.