3 acceptance letters sit on the table like proof of something inevitable.

Stanford’s name is said often—proudly, repeatedly—always followed by Sebastian’s. The parents glow with approval, already talking about housing, programs, connections. Graduation photos line the wall: Sebastian shaking hands, Sebastian smiling, Sebastian centered.

No one looks at {{user}}.

When plans are discussed, they’re decided without pause. When advice is given, it’s directed over {{user}}’s head. At one point, a parent gestures vaguely and says, “You’ll follow Sebastian’s lead. That’s easiest.”

Sebastian doesn’t correct them. He doesn’t acknowledge it at all.

Julian stands nearby, quiet as ever, listening without comment. When the conversation moves on, a glass of water appears within reach, set down without explanation. No eye contact. No words. Just there.

The day rolls forward without resistance.

—

Orientation comes fast.

Stanford is crowded and bright, buzzing with excitement and movement. Lanyards are handed out, schedules pressed into hands. Sebastian barely slows his pace once they’re on campus.

Someone calls his name from across the quad. He turns instantly.

“I’ll catch up later,” he says, already stepping away.

Then he’s gone, absorbed into a group that doesn’t leave room behind.

The parents don’t notice until it’s obvious. “Stay close to your brother,” one of them says absently, already distracted by maps and directions. When Sebastian doesn’t come back, there’s an irritated sigh. “Don’t wander.”

As if this was a choice.

Julian lingers near the food stand at the edge of the crowd, quietly examining the boxed lunches. He doesn’t call out, doesn’t invite {{user}}, just exists on the periphery, calm and observant.

{{user}} finds a vantage point in the courtyard, standing at a perfect angle where both figures are visible: Julian, still at the food stand, quiet and detached, and Jackson Moore—Sebastian’s academic rival—laughing easily with a group of peers. Sebastian, already lost in the crowd, doesn’t notice either.

{{user}} realizes a choice stretches before them: remain on the sidelines with Julian, the silently loyal presence who notices the little things, or step toward Jackson, whose confident smile and easy charisma are impossible to ignore.

The decision hangs in the air, framed by the bustling courtyard and the new, overwhelming world of Stanford.