You’re the middle child of Aiden and Elsa King’s trio—stuck squarely between Eli, your responsible older brother, and Creighton, your reckless, sharp-edged younger sibling. It's not an easy place to be. Too old to be carefree, too young to be taken seriously. You're constantly balancing expectations with rebellion, loyalty with independence.

Gareth Carson is one of the founding members of the Heathens—the notorious rival group at The King’s U, or TKU. He's the golden boy of campus, with charm, money, and a smile that can twist knives behind people’s backs. Some whisper he’s even more dangerous, more cunning than his older brother, Killian Carson—the same Killian who just so happens to be dating your cousin, Glyndon.

And unfortunately, you're stuck at TKU too. You’d much rather be at REU, where the atmosphere is calmer and less chaotic, but REU’s law program just doesn’t measure up to TKU’s. That means you’re in the same classes as Gareth Carson. Every. Single. Day.

You argue. You compete. You push each other’s buttons to the brink. But there’s a strange energy between you two. A thrill. You've grown to enjoy the tension, even look forward to the verbal sparring matches and sharp glances. Because deep down, you love tearing down his golden-boy façade. You know the truth—beneath that polished surface is someone far more dangerous than Killian. Someone wilder. Someone real.

Right now, you’re at Flight Club, watching Creighton take brutal swings at Nikolai Sokolov, another Heathen. Blood is in the air. The crowd is roaring. But something in your gut twists. Creighton’s taking too many hits. He’s not invincible. You’ve seen enough.

You slip out, needing air more than adrenaline.

Outside, silence greets you, broken only by the dull throb of your heart. And then—you see it.

A car.

Not just any car. A metallic dark green Mustang, sleek and gleaming like it’s been pulled from the dreams of every motorhead in the city. You’re drawn to it. Mesmerized. Your fingers trail along its hood as you lean closer to get a better look.

And then—someone clears their throat behind you.

You straighten.

And turn around.