Belview

Merlina's POV

The halls of Belview College, buzzing with sweet chaos. Students chatting, shoes clacking on polished floors, the scent of fresh textbooks mixed with the rich smell of coffee from the café.

It felt like the perfect storm of new beginnings and caffeine-fueled anxiety. Walking in, I might as well have had a neon sign flashing late and uninvited.

Thanks to my dad for making me show up last minute-like he ever wanted me here in the first place. I tried to ignore the whispers and the stares as I found a seat in the classroom.

But then she walked in. A blonde with an ice-cold stare strutted in like she owned the place, eyes immediately locking onto mine.

"Hey, newbie. You're in my seat. Move it." Her voice sliced through the quiet, commanding attention like she was a queen with no crown. I froze, caught off guard by her abruptness.

I had barely set my bag down when my roommate Megan leaned back in her chair with a playful smirk, grabbing my hand with a firm tug.

"Girl, please," Megan said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "This isn't high school, and you don't own oxygen. Sit somewhere else." The blonde glared at us for a moment, her eyes flicking between Megan and me like we were some kind of obstacle.

After a long, dramatic pause-complete with eye rolls and sighs-she finally spun on her heel and stormed off, her little entourage trailing behind like confused backup dancers. I straightened up in my seat, still slightly rattled.

Did I just survive my first campus villain encounter or what?

The door to the classroom creaked open, and in strolled Professor Harper. If he was trying to look like he'd just rolled out of bed, he'd succeeded: wrinkled shirt, messy hair, and a coffee cup permanently attached to his hand.

He glanced at the class with a lazy, almost conspiratorial smirk, like we were all part of an inside joke he wasn't sharing.

"Good day, class. It's been a pretty boring week, hasn't it?" A collective groan echoed through the room, as everyone seemed equally eager for something, anything different.

"Well, let's spice it up with a pop test-worth ten percent. Turn to your Law 101 handbook."

The room filled with louder groans of disbelief. Oh, great. Just what I needed.

"Um, excuse me, sir?" I raised my hand, my voice tentative. "I don't have the handbook... I literally just resumed college. Today."

Professor Harper shot me an impatient look, his voice clipped. "Then go get yourself one. Hurry. Test starts now."

My frustration simmered as I stormed out of the classroom. I couldn't believe this. Of all the days... I crossed the open campus field, trying to shake off the annoyance.

Students were sprawled across benches, chatting or glued to their phones. I scanned the area, my eyes stopping when I saw him. He was sitting alone on a bench, flipping through the Law 101 handbook with an ease that made it seem like he was doing nothing more than breathing. His presence was magnetic, even from a distance.

And, against my better judgment, I felt myself drawn in.

Just ask. It'll be fine.

I hesitated for a moment before walking over, clearing my throat. "Hey, uh... excuse me?" My voice was quieter than I'd intended, but it was already too late to back out.

He looked up at me, his face giving nothing away, but his eyes made my pulse jump. A deep, stormy green. Focused. Intense. The kind that pinned you in place and made your thoughts scatter.

His jaw looked like it was carved to intimidate, lips set in effortless disinterest, and a rogue curl fell over his brow like it knew exactly what it was doing.

He had the kind of face that knocked the breath out of you before your brain could catch up.

"What?" he said, in that lazy, too-cool-for-this tone like he'd just rolled out of a magazine ad and couldn't care less.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but I need to borrow your handbook. Just for a few minutes," I said, trying to sound casual even though my brain was running at a million miles per hour.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the book in his hands. "Can't see that I'm busy with it?"

I felt my stomach sink. "Look, I have a test in there, and I don't even know where the library is. Plus, even if I did, I don't have a library card... so please, I-"

"That's supposed to be my problem because?" he interrupted, his voice thick with sarcasm. I froze. My face fell, and before I could stop myself, I snapped.

"Whoa, okay, Diva, sorry to bother you." I turned to leave. Clearly, he wasn't going to help-but before I took two steps, he sighed and handed me the book.

He gave me a look I couldn't quite place, somewhere between bored and sizing me up. Surprise coursed through me as I reached for it.

"Oh-thanks! You're a...lifesaver!" I hurriedly left, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest as I returned to class.

The test was brutal, and by the time it ended, I was ready to collapse into a chair and pretend the day had never happened.

My roommates, Phoebe and Megan, were waiting by the door as I gathered my things. Megan had that mischievous glint in her eye as Phoebe leaned against the wall, a teasing smile on her lips.

"So? How'd it go?" Phoebe asked, looking way too amused for someone who hadn't been through the hell that was that pop quiz. I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

"Honestly? I survived. Barely. I think I blacked out halfway through the last question."

"Ugh, that man lives to ruin lives," Phoebe muttered. "Professor Harper needs to retire. Or get therapy." I chuckled tiredly.

"Or both. He looked me dead in the eye while collecting my script... like he knew I bombed it."

Megan grinned. "Or maybe you just need to stop crying over your essay sections."

"Hey!" I mock-glared at her. "I was sweating, not crying."

We all laughed as we made our way down the hallway, the tension easing between us. I didn't expect to see him again.

But of course, there he was, sitting on that same bench, scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world.

Okay. Just return his handbook. Don't make it weird.

I walked over, my heart thumping faster than I cared to admit. "Hey," I called out, unsure how this would go.

"You're done," he said flatly, snatching the book from my hands without even looking up. His voice was sharp, dismissive. I tried to keep my cool.

"Yeah... thanks for letting me borrow it." I paused, glancing at him, the sarcasm bubbling up in my throat. "Although, I could swear you were about to have a heart attack handing it over."

He narrowed his eyes, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "Sorry?"

I pressed on, a little too eager to see how he'd react. "Earlier, it looked like you weren't exactly thrilled to share. But hey, no judgment."

He gave me a glance, his expression smooth and uninterested, before turning away. Slightly embarrassed by the awkward silence, I turned to leave, silently cursing myself for trying to be decent to someone clearly raised by wolves. I didn't even make it far before his voice cut through the air.

"Hey," he called, tone smooth, but laced with something biting. I turned around, heart doing that annoying flutter thing it had no business doing.

"Yeah?" I said, halfway between confused and bracing for a second round of embarrassment.

He held up the handbook, flipping it toward me like it had personally offended him. "You ripped my handbook?"

Merlina's POV

I blinked, then leaned in like I was inspecting evidence in a crime scene. The tear in the corner of the page was barely there.

"Seriously? It's a paper cut. Trust me, the book's still breathing," I said, trying to make light of the situation.

He raised an eyebrow, all deadpan. "It was mint condition."

I smirked. "You're not gonna sue me, are you?"

For half a second, I thought he might actually crack a smile. But nope-just that same stoic stare.

"I'm really sorry," I said, dialing back the sass just a little. "It must've happened when I was flipping through it. I'll get you a new one if it matters that much." I tried to offer him a peace treaty in the form of a small smile. "I'm Merlina, by the way. You are...?"

He looked at me like I'd asked him the most obvious question. "Like you don't know."

My smile froze. "Excuse me?"

He stepped forward, closing the space between us like it was nothing. "Craig Lesnar."

In that instant, my heart went rogue. I froze, momentarily forgetting how to blink. His gaze locked onto mine-steady, unflinching. I didn't move, even though every instinct was telling me to either run or step back.

But before either of us could say anything else, the air around us cracked with the sound of footsteps.

"Heyyy!" Phoebe's voice rang out like a cymbal crash, bright and intrusive. "What's going on here?" She and Megan popped into view, eyes wide with curiosity and clearly trying to decode the situation.

Craig glanced at them for half a second, his gaze sharp but dismissive, as if we were all just background noise.

"Oh, I'm Phoebe, and this is Megan," Phoebe introduced, her voice oddly cheerful, as though it could soften the tension hanging between us.

But Craig didn't respond. He didn't even acknowledge them beyond that fleeting glance. Instead, he turned and walked away, head down, phone already in his hand like we were yesterday's notifications.

Phoebe blinked after him, clearly thrown off. "What the hell?" she muttered, watching him walk away. "Did he just...? Craig Lesnar is such a...certified menace!"

I shook my head, trying to brush it off, but it didn't come out as casual as I wanted. "Tell me about it."

The whole encounter felt like it had happened in fast-forward, and now I couldn't shake the quiet fever he sparked in me. Craig Lesnar, with his icy stare and that walk, managed to hijack my entire focus.

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. "What kind of person just brushes people off like that?"

Megan laughed. "Apparently, he's got a fan club. You should see how many people are kissing his ass."

"Wait," I said, catching up. "You two know him?"

Phoebe shot me a look like I'd grown a second head. "Who doesn't?"

"Okay," I said slowly. "So...he's popular?"

"Popular's putting it mildly," Megan said, already scrolling on her phone. "He's Belview's royalty."

"Is he?" I couldn't help but feel a flicker of interest.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "But trust me, he's not all that."

"Yeah yeah, just the son of Charles Lesnar. CEO of CCL Group, billionaire dad." Megan's voice laced with sarcasm.

Well, that explained the attitude. Must be nice carrying yourself like you're above it all, with a face that's impossible to ignore.

"But who cares?" Phoebe said with a shrug. "He's a walking ick. Craig Lesnar is what happens when ego drinks espresso."

He was shut off and cold. It was the only way to explain it. His whole vibe felt like a brick wall. No warmth, no openness-just a guy who seemed completely indifferent to everyone around him. Maybe it wasn't even personal. Maybe that was just how he was-detached, like the world owed him something, and everyone else was a passing shadow.

"And clearly," Phoebe added, "he has a thing for ignoring everyone. Mini God wanna-be." She wouldn't stop ranting.

I tried to brush it off with a laugh, but I couldn't shake that moment-his voice, his eyes, the way he moved like he didn't need anyone. It lingered in my mind, stubborn like an unfinished thought.

As we crossed the campus, heading toward Phoebe's car, she turned to me again. "So, uh... what were you even doing with Craig Lesnar?"

I paused. "He just let me borrow his handbook. That's it."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow like she didn't believe me for a second. But I just smiled and kept walking.

What was it about Craig Lesnar? Even the briefest interaction with him felt like winning a prize I hadn't even known I was competing for.

Back at the hostel, after dinner and small talk and shared memes, I curled up on my bed and FaceTimed home.

My dad, Aiden Sanchez, answered with my siblings squeezed into the frame. My sixteen year old sister, Melissa was waving. My brother, Alistair had a bowl of cereal like it was the middle of the day. Fiona, my dad's wanna-be wife, hovered in the background, clearly listening.

"The day was fine," I told them. "Pretty chill. Productive."

Alistair snorted. "Did you make friends? Real ones or just people who smile fake?"

"I made real-ish ones. My roommates are cool."

Melissa grinned. "No mean girls? No secret cults?" She asked me, like the typical nosy last borns.

"Not yet," I laughed. "Though one professor already hit us with a surprise test. Zero chill."

"Welcome to the big leagues," Dad said, smiling. "Keep your head down. Stay focused. No distractions."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I remember."

After we hung up, I sat there for a moment, staring at my desk. The new copy of the handbook I'd picked up was sitting there, untouched. I didn't mention Craig on the call.

Not even a hint.

But the truth was, I couldn't get him out of my head. Craig Lesnar. Cold, distant, unbothered. His eyes held a sharp, mysterious intensity that made you question if he even saw you at all.

And yet... despite all the walls he put up, something about him stuck with me. He was simply unforgettable.

Day one, survived.

Barely.

And just when I thought it was over, my phone buzzed.

One new message. Unknown number.

'You're not as invisible as you think, Merlina.'

I froze. And somehow, I had a feeling this was only the beginning.

The luxury pathway cutting through Belview's campus gleamed under the afternoon sun.

Students drifted down it in clusters, their laughter and easy chatter filling the warm air.

Craig Lesnar and his best friend Keith stood just beyond the stream of students. Not trying to be noticed, but still difficult to overlook.

It wasn't their style or wealth that made people glance twice. It was the quiet tension Craig carried, like his mind was always somewhere else, calculating, questioning, never fully present.

There was an aura about them, sure, but Craig wore his privilege more like armor than a crown-meant to distance, not dazzle.

"You know what I don't get?" Keith said, casually tossing a small pebble from hand to hand. "People act like money's the whole point. Bro, we were born with it. That's not the flex."

Craig tilted his head slightly, a knowing glint in his eye. "It's not about having it. It's about what people think you could do with it."

"Exactly. Power. Presence. Status," Keith agreed, smirking.

"Legacy," Craig finished quietly.

Keith chuckled, nudging him playfully. "Lesnar Global's next-gen leader talk. I see you, future king."

Craig offered only the faintest smile, but his mind was already elsewhere. His gaze drifted across the courtyard-and there she was.

Merlina Sanchez.

Walking beside Megan, animated in conversation, her hands moving as she spoke, eyebrows lifting with that spark of curiosity she didn't try to hide. There was a quiet boldness in the way she carried herself, like she didn't need anyone's approval to take up space.

For one stolen second, Craig forgot how to breathe. Not because she looked perfect-but because she didn't care to.

His eyes stayed locked on her until Keith's voice broke the moment. "Something wrong?"

Craig blinked, snapping his gaze away as if burned. "Nah," he said coolly, folding his arms over his chest.

But deep down, something stirred. Too unfamiliar to name just yet.

Merlina walked slowly, winding through the busy campus grounds.

"Okay, theory time," Megan announced dramatically. "If Professor Harper ever actually smiled, his face would crack. Like porcelain."

Merlina laughed under her breath. "Don't let him hear you say that. He'll probably invent a surprise oral exam just to punish you."

Megan slowed down, her eyes catching on something. Or someone. "There's Craig Lesnar," she muttered, the words dripping with disdain.

Merlina followed her gaze, even though she already knew who it was. Craig wasn't looking now, but she'd felt his eyes on her earlier-sharp, fleeting, and impossible to ignore.

It had been one of those moments where her heart didn't quite know whether to speed up or freeze.

"Why does he walk like the universe revolves around his next move?" Megan remarked, her tone loaded with annoyance.

Merlina hesitated, the words hanging on the tip of her tongue. "I mean... there's something about him," she started, then caught herself, her voice trailing off like she'd wandered too close to a thought she wasn't ready to unpack.

Megan shot her a look, clearly expecting more. "Something like what?"

Merlina shrugged, pulling Megan gently by the arm, trying to keep her pace steady. "Nothing. He's just-whatever. Let's keep moving." But the words felt too light. Too easy. Because deep down, Merlina knew it wasn't nothing. It never had been.

They moved toward the Professors' Memorial Wall, the stone monument lined with framed photos of Belview's long-serving faculty. Most were black-and-white, but a few newer ones stood out in color.

Merlina's fingers brushed over the glass as she scanned the rows. And then she found it.

A gap.

An empty frame, where her mother's photo should have been.

Still missing. Still erased. Like she never existed here.

Her chest tightened. Then, the words from last night echoed.

'You're not as invisible as you think, Merlina.'

The chill crawled up her spine. Whoever had sent that text knew too much. Knew she was here. Knew who she was.

She stared at the empty frame again, barely noticing her breath quickening.

Remembering the moment she said with her mom some years ago.

The living room was warm, the lamp casting a soft glow. Fifteen-year-old Merlina sat cross-legged on the floor while her mother, Marjorie, flipped through an old Belview yearbook.

"See this building?" Marjorie tapped a faded photo. "That's where I taught my first class. I was a mess."

"Were you scared?" Younger Merlina asked, eyes wide.

"Terrified," Marjorie laughed. "But I loved it. Belview made me feel like I mattered." She smiled, tapping her own picture among the faculty. "Promise me something."

"What?"

"One day, you'll walk those halls too." Merlina nodded, heart swelling...

Merlina stood frozen before the blank space where her mother's photo should have been. Her chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths.

"I'm here now, but you're not." She whispered. The silence was unbearable, like the world had turned its back.

The empty frame didn't just erase her mother. It made Merlina question if she'd ever existed here at all.

Behind her, Megan scrolled through her phone, absentmindedly. "You coming?"

Merlina blinked, fighting the sting behind her eyes. "Yeah... just a sec."

Megan didn't wait, already heading toward the classroom. Merlina cast one last, lingering look at the empty frame, a tightness in her chest. It was so easy to feel invisible here. The very place her mother had once thrived now felt colder, less welcoming.

She turned away, the weight of the moment settling deeper.

The campus buzzed around her as she rounded a corner, clutching the new student handbook against her chest. And then, up ahead, she saw him.

Craig Lesnar.

Her pulse quickened involuntarily, a jolt of something she couldn't name pulling her forward. Before she could stop herself, her steps quickened, closing the distance between them.

"Hey, Craig... um, I wanted to-" He glanced at her briefly. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.

Merlina froze, her words dying in her throat. The lump in her chest grew heavy, her jaw clenched, and her cheeks burned with the sting of embarrassment.

She stared at the new handbook in her hands, wishing she could just disappear. It was like she wasn't even there. Like she didn't matter.

Just like her mom.

After classes, the campus thinned out, the chatter fading behind Craig Lesnar and Keith as they walked. Craig barely registered the students moving aside in their path, his focus elsewhere.

Keith was talking, but Craig wasn't fully paying attention. He rarely did when the conversation didn't involve something that actually mattered to him.

"I'm done with Naomi," Keith said, running a hand through his messy hair. "For real this time. I need someone new-fresh, fun, zero drama. Someone who doesn't check my location every five minutes."

Craig arched an eyebrow. "So, a ghost?"

Keith laughed. "If she's hot, I'd consider it."

Craig smirked, but it didn't last. Something familiar caught his attention-sharp, unexpected. Across the courtyard, Merlina Sanchez stepped out of the library with Phoebe. Her bag strap slid down her shoulder, and she adjusted it absently, her movements quick, unguarded.

The wind pulled at her hair, sending it across her face in soft waves. Her laugh rang out, light and unguarded, cutting through the noise around them. Craig's breath caught, his eyes locked on her, unable to look away.

"Maybe that girl from psych class-Tania. You remember her?" Keith kept talking, oblivious.

Craig barely heard him. His feet stayed rooted, watching Merlina as she moved through the crowd, unaware of how the world seemed to bend around her.

"Yeah..." Craig's voice came out distant. "I remember."

But his mind was still on Merlina. She glanced around, her eyes sweeping past him without stopping. She turned, walking off, her hair catching the light one last time before she disappeared down the path.

Keith continued, unaware of the shift happening just a few feet away. Craig barely caught a word. He took a step forward. Then stopped.

Something tugged at him. That moment earlier. The one where she'd tried to talk to him... and he just dismissed her.

A habit he had formed over the years-being inaccessible, a defense against people who always wanted something from him.

But now, seeing her laugh like it hadn't fazed her. Like his brush-off hadn't even made a dent-it felt... pointless. Absurd.

For the first time, he questioned if shutting her out had been the right move at all. He didn't want to care. But clearly, he did.

What had she wanted to say?