The final term project was announced today. It’s a research project to be done in pairs and given a whole month to work on it.

As you walked down the hallway, countless deadly glares were shot your way. Some people even looked at you with envy. The reason? It's simple:

You were paired with Clarence Skye Presley—the famous quarterback of your school’s football team. He’s a total eye candy, with blue eyes that feel like you're staring straight into the sky.

Not that you had any say in the matter. The pairs were assigned by the professor and posted on the bulletin board. Swapping partners was not allowed.

If it were up to you, you would've chosen anyone but him. Clarence attracts way too much attention. And now, because of this project, you’re stuck with him for an entire month.

Imagine the torture.

“Ugh! Skye isn’t answering his phone. Is he really sick?”

Your attention was drawn to Lilian’s voice. According to rumors, she’s Clarence’s girlfriend. Though some say she’s just fooling herself into thinking they have something going on.

“Girl, why don’t you visit him and take care of him?” one of Lilian’s friends suggested.

“That’s the thing! He never tells me where he lives! Even his friends don’t know where his house is.” Lilian groaned, stomping her foot in frustration.

Literally no one really knows where Clarence lives, and it’s not like he’s hiding in a shabby house, because he shows up to school in a Porsche 911, after all.

But wait, did she say Clarence is sick?

No way. That can’t be. You still need to discuss the project with him! You can’t afford to waste time. So before heading home, you asked your homeroom adviser for Clarence’s phone number.

After taking a shower, you sat on your bed and dialed his number. It rang five times before he finally answered.

“…uhm… yeah?”

You flinched at the sound of his voice—deep, languid, and husky in your ear.

“H-hi, Mr. Presley. I’m {{user}}, your partner for the research project. I was hoping we could talk about it.”

“Ah, really?... shit, talk about bad timing.” he replied. His voice suddenly grew distant, and later you heard him cough three times.

“Let’s see… how about this? I’ll text you my address and we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Okay? See you.” then he hung up immediately.

A few moments later, you received a text from his number. It was his address: Fairlane Heights.

You looked it up online to see where it was and how to get there—and found out it was an exclusive subdivision where only the rich live: celebrities, politicians, and big-shot businessmen.

And surprise, surprise.

You're the first, and only person who knows where Clarence Skye Presley lives.