Chapter 2: The confusion sets in
892 Words
His thoughts were interrupted when his gaze landed on someone across the room.
A guy.
Tall, muscular, with short curly hair and striking dark eyes. His presence alone seemed to command attention. He walked with confidence, his expression calm yet unreadable.
James couldn’t look away.
“What’s up, bro? Who’s that?” the guy asked, approaching Aston.
“My friend. He just transferred from abroad,” Aston replied.
“Hey,” the guy said, turning to James. “I’m Max.”
But James barely heard him. He was too focused—almost mesmerized by Max’s face.
There was something about him.
Something different.
While Aston stepped away to the restroom, Max leaned closer.
“I think you look pretty,” he said casually.
“Thanks,” James replied automatically—then froze.
Wait.
He blinked. “Did you just call me pretty?”
Max shrugged slightly. “You are.”
James frowned. “You don’t think I’m handsome? You think I’m pretty?”
Max smiled faintly. “You’re cute. It’s… kind of lovable.”
James felt his face heat up, unsure whether to feel insulted or flustered.
“And just so you know,” Max added, his tone playful but confident, “I’m going to pursue you.”
James stared at him for a second, then smirked despite himself.
“Then you can try,” he said. “I’ll be waiting.”
The moment Aston returned, James immediately grabbed him.
“We’re leaving,” he said quickly.
“Wait—what?” Aston protested.
But James was already dragging him out of the bar.
Later that night, lying in his dorm room, James stared at the ceiling.
His mind replayed everything—the breakup, the question Aston asked, and most of all… Max.
His chest tightened slightly.
For the first time, he wasn’t thinking about his ex.
He was thinking about him.
And somehow, that scared him more than anything else.
Did I really not touch her… or kiss her… because I was gay?
Maybe Aston was right.
James stared at the ceiling, his thoughts refusing to settle. The memory of his ex no longer hurt the same way—it felt distant now, almost irrelevant.
I’ll give Max a chance, he decided. I need to know the truth.
But then another thought crept in.
Why did my face heat up like that?
He turned onto his side, burying his face into his pillow.
Nothing about this felt simple anymore.
“Wake up! It’s time for lectures!”
Aston’s voice cut through the quiet like an alarm.
James groaned. “I’m up, I’m up…”
“You said that ten minutes ago,” Aston replied dryly.
“I’m late!” James shot up immediately, grabbing his towel. “Give me five minutes!”
“You said that yesterday too.”
After a quick shower and hurried dressing, James rushed out just as a knock sounded on the door.
Aston opened it to reveal Camilla, already looking impatient.
“You guys are seriously unbelievable,” she said, crossing her arms. “We’re going to be late!”
“We’re ready!” James said quickly, though his slightly messy hair said otherwise.
“Barely,” she muttered as they hurried off together.
By the time they got to class, the lecture had already started.
The professor adjusted his glasses and glanced at James.
“Ah, perfect timing,” he said. “Today, we are welcoming a new student—James, the heir to the Carlton Group.”
The room fell silent.
Then whispers spread like wildfire.
“The Carlton heir?”
“In the art department?”
“Shouldn’t he be studying business?”
James ignored them all. Their opinions didn’t matter.
Yes, he was an heir. But that didn’t mean he had to follow the exact same path. His sister was already carrying the weight of the company—he had chosen a different road.
And for once, he wanted to live for himself.
As the lecture continued, Camilla leaned closer to him.
“Hey, did you know the Shelton heir also attends this university?” she whispered.
James raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah, but no one knows who it is,” she added. “They’ve kept their identity completely hidden.”
James shrugged. “That’s nice. I really don’t care.”
Camilla stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “You’re no fun.”
After lectures ended, students slowly began leaving the classroom.
Meanwhile, in another part of campus…
“Hey, Max,” Philip said, leaning against the wall. “The art department just confirmed it. Your rival’s heir is actually an art major. Isn’t that funny?”
Max didn’t laugh.
“It’s not,” he said calmly.
Philip blinked. “Huh?”
Max looked ahead, his expression unreadable. “I’d rather be doing something else too… instead of preparing to lead a business I didn’t choose.”
Philip studied him for a moment, then smirked. “You’re thinking too much again.”
Max exhaled softly before changing the subject.
“Anyway… speaking of the art department,” he said, a faint smile forming, “I need to find my new target.”
Philip raised an eyebrow. “Target? Who is he?”
“That’s the thing,” Max replied. “I don’t know his name yet.”
- Writer
