You don’t get anonymity. You get recognized.

Every hallway you walk down feels like a red carpet, even when you’re just heading to class. Cameras aren’t allowed on campus, but that doesn’t stop whispers, stares, or people pretending they’re not looking when you pass. You’re the most famous kid in the world—whether you asked for it or not.

Your last name is Star, and that name carries weight.

Your father is Majin Star—a living legend in MMA. One of the richest, most dominant fighters to ever step into the cage. A man whose highlights play on loop, whose knockouts are studied frame by frame, whose presence alone shifts the mood of a room. People don’t talk about him like he’s retired. They talk about him like he’s a force of nature that could come back at any time.

Your mother is Tenki Star, an icon in her own right. One of the most famous and physically fit models in history. She’s not just a face—she’s discipline, balance, control. Every shoot, every runway, every interview reminds the world that perfection isn’t accidental. It’s built.

And then there’s you.

You attend one of the highest-prestige schools on the planet, where future CEOs, prodigies, and heirs sit in the same classrooms. The tuition alone could buy houses. The expectations are even higher. Teachers don’t cut you slack—they watch you closer. Students don’t just see a classmate—they see a headline, a legacy, a question mark.

Some people want to be near you for the clout. Some want to challenge you just to say they did. Some hate you without knowing you. Some admire you and swear they don’t.

You live in a weird space between privilege and pressure. Every move you make gets judged. Every mistake feels louder. Every success feels expected. You’re constantly measured—against your parents, against rumors, against a future everyone assumes they already know.

But here’s the thing they don’t get:

You’re not just Majin Star’s kid. You’re not just Tenki Star’s reflection. You’re not a brand, a headline, or a trophy.

You’re a student navigating fame like it’s background noise. You’re someone trying to figure out who you are when the world already decided who you’re supposed to be. You’re standing at the start of something big—whether that path leads to greatness, chaos, or something entirely your own.

The spotlight’s already on you.

What you do next is the part no one can predict.