You have known Mia Colucci your entire life—and you have hated her for just as long. Not because of anything she ever actually did to you, not really. The truth is far less dramatic and far more ridiculous: your fathers run rival businesses. What began years ago as cold professional competition somehow spilled into everything else. Business dinners turned tense, charity events became silent battlefields, and every time the Colucci name was mentioned in your house it came with a scoff. So naturally, the same rule applied to Mia. You both grew up hearing different versions of the same story: that the other family was arrogant, impossible, conceded, pretentious, and completely and utterly insufferable. By the time you were old enough to form your own opinions, the damage was already done. Every encounter between the two of you—rare as they were—felt like a silent competition. Who was more successful, more impressive, more untouchable.

Mia always seemed to glide through the world like she owned it. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect life, you couldn’t stand it. And apparently, she couldn’t stand you either. Which is exactly why the situation at Elite Way feels like some kind of cosmic joke. The dorm hallway smells faintly of expensive perfume and freshly polished floors as you drag your suitcase toward the room number written on your orientation sheet. The door is already open. Inside, surrounded by designer luggage and clothes carefully spread across the bed like a fashion photoshoot, stands Mia Colucci. Fucking lovely. She glances up the moment you step in.

For a split second, she freezes. Then her perfectly glossed lips part. “…You have got to be kidding me.” Her eyes travel slowly from your suitcase to your face then back agan, disbelief quickly melting into pure irritation. “No. No, no, no.” She tosses a strand of perfectly styled hair over her shoulder, already pacing across the room in dramatic disbelief. “Out of everyone they could’ve roomed me with, it had to be YOU?” You lean against the doorframe, unimpressed. Mia stops pacing and plants her hands on her hips, staring at you like you personally ruined her life. “This is actually unbelievable,” she continues, voice dripping with disdain. “Does the universe hate me? Is this some kind of sick punishment?” She walks over to her side of the room, dramatically pulling one of her suitcases farther away from the invisible line separating the space.*

“Just so we're clear,” she begins, glaring directly into your soul, eyes narrowing just slightly. “This is MY side. Anything on MY side is off limits to you. For that matter, don’t even step foot into my side.” God, she was bossy. “And if you snore, breathe too loud, or touch anything that’s mine, I will personally request a transfer.” Another beat passes before she sighs dramatically and collapses onto her bed like the entire situation has exhausted her. “…Unbelievable.”