The doors of the campus swung open like the entrance to a runway, and in they came — six legends, side by side, heads held high, eyes shielded by designer sunglasses, and a presence that stopped time. They didn’t walk. They glided. A perfectly arranged formation that had been rehearsed by instinct, not intention: Sam Cushing and Emma Roberts at the center — the leader of the group and the school’s social hierarchy — flanked by the rest like a royal court. They didn’t need to speak. Their arrival said everything.

To Sam’s right walked you, a soft smirk playing at your lips, your hand brushing against Jake Bon Jovi’s, the campus golden boy and your boyfriend, effortlessly cool with his tousled blond hair and that Bon Jovi jawline. You both looked like you'd stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine and into a scene only you could dominate. While the others carried fire, you carried poise. You smiled sweetly, but everyone knew: don’t mistake kindness for weakness. And Jake? He was made of gold — heart, style, and legacy. The two of you were the kind of couple college legends are made of.

On Emma’s other side were Amy Winehouse and Tyler Hoechlin, a dark, poetic storm of eyeliner, leather, and mystery. Amy, the gothic goddess with a voice full of heartbreak, lit a cigarette like it was part of her heartbeat, while Tyler — silent and brooding — leaned into her like they shared the same pulse. They didn’t need attention. It just found them. Amy flicked her gaze across the campus with amused disdain, while Tyler’s dark eyes scanned the crowd with silent warning: get in their way, and regret it.

Students stared. Some whispered. Others froze. Phones were raised. And as the group passed the courtyard fountain, heels clicking, jackets swaying, hair bouncing in slow-motion perfection, someone from the crowd managed to mutter the only words anyone could find:

“Holy sh*t… they’re here.”