“Wow, he’s back. He immediately made huge donations to the prominent art schools in the capital too. It’s great being rich, isn’t it!”

“I’ve heard that he’s our alumni, having graduated from the Southline University. That explains his generous donations. Plus, he’s the richest man in the city after all. More importantly, he’s so charming, practically the whole nation’s ideal man rich, handsome, and down to earth. There’s no one else like him in this world!”

The entirety of Southline University Art Institute was engrossed with news regarding Mark Tremont’s return, except for Arianne Wynn who stood out like a sore thumb.

Seated at the stairway, she was munching on a stale bun which had long lost its warmth. Downing the otherwise hard to swallow baked good with just plain water felt equally as cold as the winter season.

Mark Tremont. He’s back again after three years…

“Ari, why are you eating buns again? Come on, I’ll buy you a good meal!”

Tiffany Lane plopped herself down carelessly beside Arianne.

The latter shook her head before she stuffed the rest of the bun into her mouth, picking up her bag and swinging it over her shoulder. Her action emphasized her frail frame.

got

Don’t bring any more buns

bicycle, finally disappearing as it flew away

through the back door. She put down her bag

help me out today. Sir’s looking for you… ah, and be careful. Don’t speak if you can lest he is

the washed out jacket she wore, remembering that he

breath whilst knocking on the door, her fingertips were trembling. She had grown a lot over

“Come in.”

spoke from within the room. If one did not pay

the door open and entering, she left

a magazine in his hands. The expensive tailor-made suit hugged his build perfectly, adding

joints flipped the pages gracefully. His features, flawless as if they were painstakingly sculpted, seemed

Tremont, he was back

turning eighteen in another

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