Chapter One - New Beginnings
1201 Words
The late afternoon sun painted Ashton University in shades of gold as students streamed across campus. Laughter drifted through the air, luggage wheels rattled over brick pathways, and parents called final goodbyes from parked cars.
Vincent Wynne stood alone outside Residence Hall C.
One suitcase.
One backpack.
One chance to disappear.
He looked up at the four-storey brick building and tightened his grip on the suitcase handle. The university assigned every final-year student to accommodation based on availability. He'd requested a single room.
Instead, he'd been given a roommate.
Not ideal.
But manageable.
Vincent had spent the last four years making himself forgettable.
He attended lectures.
Earned excellent grades.
Went home.
No parties.
No clubs.
No friendships that asked too many questions.
An ordinary life required ordinary habits.
He climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, listening to the muffled sounds of music and conversation behind closed doors. Room 412 waited at the end of the corridor.
His new home.
He unlocked the door.
The room was modest but clean. Two single beds faced opposite walls, separated by matching desks. A wide window overlooked the university's football stadium, where players in green training kits were finishing practice.
One side of the room was already occupied.
A sports duffel bag rested beside the bed.
Football boots sat neatly underneath.
A university jersey hung from the wardrobe door.
Vincent sighed.
"So much for peace and quiet."
He wheeled his suitcase to the empty side and began unpacking.
Books first.
Then clothes.
Laptop.
Notebook.
Pens arranged in a straight line.
It wasn't perfectionism.
It was routine.
Routine meant control.
And control kept the past where it belonged.
The click of the door interrupted his thoughts.
Someone walked in carrying two bags over one shoulder.
He was tall, athletic, with dark hair that looked permanently untidy. His expression was relaxed, like he belonged wherever he happened to be.
He stopped when he noticed Vincent.
"Guess I found my roommate," he said with an easy smile.
Vincent nodded politely.
"I suppose you did."
The stranger crossed the room and offered his hand.
"William Moretti."
A brief pause.
"But everyone calls me Will."
Vincent hesitated before shaking it.
The handshake was firm without trying to prove anything.
"Vincent."
He released Will's hand.
"Most people call me Vin."
"Nice to meet you, Vin."
Will dropped his bags beside the bed and glanced around the room.
"I was expecting someone louder."
Vincent raised an eyebrow.
"Louder?"
"You know... posters everywhere. Music blasting. Clothes on the floor."
He looked towards Vincent's perfectly organised desk.
"I definitely wasn't expecting this."
"I like things organised."
"I noticed."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The silence wasn't awkward.
Just unfamiliar.
Will sat on the edge of his bed.
"So... Chemical Engineering?"
Vincent looked up.
"How did you know?"
"The resident assistant mentioned it."
"And you?"
"Sports Science."
Vincent nodded.
"Football?"
Will grinned.
"That obvious?"
"The boots gave you away."
"I should've hidden them."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Vincent's mouth before he could stop it.
Will noticed.
He didn't mention it.
Instead, he leaned back on his hands.
"Looks like we're going to be seeing a lot of each other."
Vincent glanced out of the window towards the stadium.
"I suppose we are."
Neither of them realised that, beyond the university gates, a black luxury sedan had just come to a stop.
Inside, a man in an expensive tailored suit watched the residence hall through tinted windows.
"Keep an eye on him," Connor Wynne said quietly.
"I want the names of everyone my son gets close to."
The driver nodded.
"Yes, sir."
Connor looked back at the building.
"You can change your address, Vincent," he murmured.
"But you'll never stop being a Wynne."
The silence didn't last long.
Will stood and stretched, rolling his shoulders until they cracked.
"I'm starving," he announced. "Tell me you're hungry too."
Vincent blinked.
"I only got here ten minutes ago."
"Exactly. Moving is exhausting."
"It wasn't that much."
Will laughed.
"You've never played football in thirty-degree heat and then carried two duffel bags up four flights of stairs."
"I suppose not."
"So..." Will rubbed his hands together dramatically. "Cafeteria?"
Vincent hesitated.
He hadn't planned on eating with anyone. His routine was simple: unpack, organise his notes, find the engineering building, then grab dinner alone.
That routine suddenly felt less certain.
"I don't know."
Will tilted his head.
"Is that a no?"
"It's... a maybe."
"I'll take maybe."
Before Vincent could answer, a loud knock echoed through the room.
The door swung open without waiting for permission.
"There you are!"
A young man with sandy blond hair stepped inside carrying a football under one arm.
Behind him followed two others wearing university training jackets.
"Coach is looking for you, Moretti."
Will groaned.
"I've been here five minutes."
"And you've already disappeared."
The blond student finally noticed Vincent.
"Oh."
His eyes flickered between the perfectly organised side of the room and the chaotic pile of Will's bags.
"You must be the new roommate."
Vincent nodded politely.
"Vincent."
"I'm Mason."
He pointed towards the others.
"That's Leo, and the giant trying to squeeze through the doorway is Noah."
Noah raised a hand awkwardly.
"Hi."
Will stood and grabbed his jacket.
"I'll be back in twenty minutes."
Mason smirked.
"That's what you said an hour ago."
"I mean it this time."
As the three football players began leaving, Mason glanced back at Vincent.
"Good luck."
Vincent frowned.
"With what?"
Mason grinned.
"Living with him."
The door closed.
Silence returned.
Vincent looked around the room before letting out a quiet breath.
"So much for peace."
He sat at his desk and opened his laptop.
Organic Chemistry.
His favourite subject.
Equations and molecular structures were predictable.
People weren't.
For nearly an hour, he lost himself in lecture notes, barely noticing the sun sinking below the horizon.
His phone buzzed against the desk.
Unknown Number
Dinner? Cafeteria. Seven o'clock.
Vincent stared at the message.
There was no introduction.
No explanation.
A second message appeared almost immediately.
—Will. I realised you don't have my number, which probably makes the first message look creepy.
Against his better judgement, Vincent smiled.
Just a little.
He typed a short reply.
I'll think about it.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
That's progress.
Vincent shook his head and slipped the phone into his pocket.
He wasn't looking for friends.
He certainly wasn't looking for distractions.
But for the first time in years, someone had treated him like an ordinary student instead of expecting something from him.
He wasn't sure whether that was comforting...
...or dangerous.
Outside the residence hall, a black luxury sedan remained parked beneath the shade of an old oak tree.
Inside, Connor Wynne read a report handed to him by his driver.
"William Moretti," he read aloud.
"Football scholarship. Sports Science. No criminal record. Popular on campus."
He closed the file.
"Keep watching."
The driver nodded.
"Should we intervene?"
Connor's gaze never left the dormitory windows.
"Not yet."
His voice was calm.
"Everyone enters Vincent's life for a reason."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"And if they become a problem..."
He closed the folder.
"...they won't stay in it for long."
- Writer
