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Mirror Crown
Christian Classic's life was a series of indulgences, each more meaningless than the last. He never saw the need for schoolwork or rules. He was a son of the empire, a man of status, and he made sure everyone knew it. The world owed him everything, and he gave nothing in return. He was spoiled, entitled, and as distant from the everyday life of the people around him as the stars in the sky.
At university, Christian was a walking contradiction. His name alone could open doors most would die to walk through. But Christian didn't care about that. He never made an effort to fit in, to meet people or engage in anything that required effort. His expensive clothes, his flashy car, and his constant entourage were the only things that mattered. They were a shield, a way to keep people at arm's length so he didn't have to engage with the world that bored him to tears.
His professors? They were just obstacles between him and his next party. His classmates? They were mere ants beneath his feet, so insignificant that he didn't even bother to learn their names. The only thing Christian cared about was how much he could control his world and how little he needed to give in return.
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Christian leaned back in his chair, eyes half-closed, the faint hum of a lecture on business economics barely registering in his ears. He tapped a pen against his notebook in a rhythmic, absent pattern. His gaze flitted lazily around the lecture hall, settling on the half-distracted students who scribbled notes, utterly absorbed in their futures. He couldn't care less about theirs—or his own, for that matter.
He had no intention of passing this class, or any class. His father had already set him up for life. The empire was his birthright, and no piece of paper or diploma would change that. He could feel the weight of his father's expectations hovering in the back of his mind, but Christian shut them out easily, as he always did. He didn't need to try. He didn't need to earn anything.
Christian's eyes lingered on a student in the front row, a girl who always seemed to be working hard—her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, her posture straight, every word from the professor's mouth hanging on her every syllable. Skylar. He'd noticed her a few times before. She was different from the others; she had a certain drive, a sharpness, something that caught his attention for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint.
He scoffed inwardly. What was the point? She was probably some rich girl with a boring future ahead of her, just like every other person in this class. She was nothing like the girls who entertained him on weekends, who lived for the thrill and nothing more. Skylar didn't belong in his world, and Christian wasn't interested in finding out why she seemed so different.
The bell rang, cutting through his thoughts, and students began packing up. Christian stood slowly, stretching his arms above his head, unconcerned by the hurried movements around him. He didn't need to rush.
As he walked out of the lecture hall, Christian caught Skylar's eye. For a brief second, their gazes met, and she gave him a small, polite smile. But Christian didn't return it. Instead, he turned his head and walked away, his mind already shifting toward the next party, the next distraction, the next thrill.
To him, people were just tools. They existed to serve his needs, to feed his ego. Nothing more. Nothing less.
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Christian's behavior was the very definition of self-centered. His life revolved around instant gratification, power, and the control he could exert over others. But beneath the surface of his careless attitude was an undeniable truth: he was running away from the things that really mattered. He had everything but never seemed to want anything that could challenge him. Nothing, that is, until the day his life was ripped from him in an instant.
Little did he know, the crash would leave an opening in the world he ruled. A new man would step in—someone who would change everything. Someone who would see what Christian never could.
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