📘 Chapter Two: The Arrival
307 Words
The world never slows down for anyone.
But this moment?
It almost paused.
A roar of an engine sliced through the quiet air,
followed by the sudden screech of tires cutting sharp around the corner.
Zoe barely flinched — but her body stiffened instinctively.
Her heart didn’t race. She wasn’t scared.
She was just... annoyed.
The car stopped just a foot from where she stood.
A black McLaren 720S — sleek, aggressive, the kind of machine that screamed wealth and recklessness.
The door lifted like wings opening, and out stepped the boy the entire university had a rumor about.
Zayn Alvi.
Jet-black jacket hugging his lean frame.
Black shirt. Tailored charcoal pants.
Heavy combat boots hitting the pavement like he owned it.
A silver chain hung loosely around his neck.
His dark eyes — hidden behind tinted sunglasses — scanned the crowd like nothing impressed him.
Because it didn’t.
The air around him seemed to shift.
People turned. Whispers buzzed.
And then came the entourage — a perfectly curated group of followers.
Boys fist-bumping him like he was some god.
Girls flipping their hair, laughing too loud, trying too hard.
He didn’t smile.
He didn’t need to.
His silence had its own gravity.
Zoe didn’t look twice.
She moved past him — hoodie up, eyes down, like a shadow slipping through light.
But he noticed.
She didn’t know it.
Didn’t even glance his way.
But something in his stance shifted, just for a fraction of a second.
The smirk that played at the corner of his mouth faded.
Gone was the charm, for a heartbeat.
Then he turned back to the crowd, like nothing happened.
Zayn Alvi — campus mystery, billionaire heir, heartthrob with a halo.
At least…
That’s what they saw.
What no one knew was this:
He wasn’t wearing a mask.
He was the mask.
- Writer
