Wednesday, January 25th, 2023 – Brooklyn University, South Canteen Hall
The hum of midday campus life filtered through the glass-paneled canteen like static behind a storm. Students moved in tides—grouped by cliques, ambitions, or desperation to beat the lunch queue. Steam rose from soup cups. Screens flashed today's special. But at a quiet table near the back—where the light barely reached and the chatter blurred—sat Ethan.
Black hoodie. Matte wristwatch. Just a coffee and a protein bar. Eyes half-lidded, observing the world like it was a slow chessboard and he already knew how it would end.
"MAKE IT A DOUBLE CHEESE, YOU COWARDS!"
That, of course, was John—currently engaged in combat with the lunch staff. His red hair bounced as he tried to balance two large trays already half-loaded with fries and nuggets. He didn't notice the two girls entering from the left aisle.
Vivienne Smith, student body president, sharp in a tailored blazer, already scanning the canteen with surgical precision. And beside her—Elena Grey, vice-president, a third-year lit major with smoky eyeliner and a habit of overthinking brilliant people. Together, they approached Ethan like field researchers approaching a tiger who'd built his own cage.
"I told you," Vivienne muttered to Elena under her breath, "don't ask anything direct. He doesn't like playing by other people's scripts."
"I wasn't going to flirt," Elena shot back. "I just want to understand what kind of third-year turns down Denz."
Vivienne didn't answer. She simply stepped forward.
Ethan didn't look up until they were already at his table.
"You two took your time," he said, voice cool. "Was the debate about who leads the charge or who carries the leash?"
Vivienne smirked. "Neither. We were deciding if it's safe to approach someone who bites."
"Depends who's offering the hand."
Elena sat down first—her curiosity visibly buzzing just beneath her skin. "Let's talk about yesterday. You rejected Professor Denz's offer. Not just any offer—a co-authorship in Applied Modern Cognition. That's academic royalty."
Ethan sipped his coffee. "Royalty's still human. Still bleeds."
Vivienne slid into the seat beside Elena. "We're not here to preach. But you do understand how… irrational that looked to the rest of us, right? Fame. Prestige. A title before you graduate."
Ethan leaned back. "Titles are for people who need introductions. I'm building something that doesn't beg applause."
Elena tilted her head. "That sounds... egotistical."
"No," he said. "That sounds like legacy. Not limelight.I am not here to get validification from others ."
Vivienne folded her arms. "You think staying in the shadows gives you more control?"
"I think crowds distort truth. I'm not here to impress. I'm here to outlast."
John finally stumbled in, two trays wobbling dangerously in his arms. "Okay, either I need three arms or you all need to stop inviting each other to philosophical conventions before lunch!"
He blinked, realizing Vivienne and Elena were seated across Ethan. "Oh. A council meeting. Am I interrupting his inquisition?"
"No," Elena said slowly, still eyeing Ethan, "you're interrupting a psychological case study."
"Cool, cool." John dropped into the seat beside Ethan, started unwrapping a burger, and said to no one in particular, "Why are all the beautiful women on campus interested in my best friend's trauma?"
Vivienne leaned forward, eyes on Ethan. "You're playing a longer game or fool . I get that now. But you do realize… curiosity can be fatal?"
Ethan smirked faintly. "Only for those who don't know how deep they're diving."
Elena narrowed her gaze. "So what are you really after, Ethan? If not prestige, and not applause… what?"
He stared at her, expression unreadable. Then said simply, "Position. Not attention."
Vivienne leaned back slowly, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes—something between respect and hunger. She stood.
"You're dangerous," she said softly. "But not because you're cold. Because you're patient."
"And you're not," Ethan replied.
Elena rose too, watching him like a puzzle with missing corners.
As they walked away, Elena muttered, "He's not chasing the spotlight. He's building the stage."
Vivienne's lips curled. "Which means eventually… we'll all be standing on it. Whether we like it or not."
John, midway through his second burger, looked between Ethan and the retreating duo.
"You know, man… you terrify people. But weirdly, it's making you popular."
Ethan glanced sideways. "That's because they haven't figured out I'm not here to be known. I'm here to be remembered."
And outside, the clouds swirled tighter.
Inside, a storm had just begun to form its eye.