Arrogant Billionaire: Love vs Hate

Chap. 2

"It is better to be hated for what you are than loved for what you are not."
-Andre Gide
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Beep beep beep beep! The sound of my alarm blared, dragging me unwillingly from the depths of sleep. I groaned, slapping the snooze button with more force than necessary. My eyes refused to cooperate, still heavy with drowsiness. It felt like someone had glued them shut.

"Who even thought it was a good idea to invent alarms?" I muttered groggily, pulling the covers over my head in protest. Morning people, I decided, belonged in some heroic league. For them to willingly face the day at this hour? Absolutely superhuman.

I forced myself up, rubbing my eyes, still half-asleep. My body moved on autopilot, making a beeline for the bathroom—except this time, I collided face-first into a wall.

"Ow!" I yelped, startled. I blinked in confusion, my brain catching up with my new surroundings. Right. I wasn't in my old room anymore, where the bathroom door was conveniently to the left. Here, in this unfamiliar space, it was on the opposite side.

"Damn this wall," I muttered, rubbing my forehead, "It's going to kill me before I even get used to this room."

After a hot shower, I finally felt awake, the lingering haze of sleep lifting. The warmth of the water did wonders, and I let my thoughts drift toward the day ahead—my first day at a new college. The mere thought sent a flurry of butterflies into my stomach.

I had been accepted into Williams Brown, one of the most prestigious colleges in New York, as a scholarship student. The college was renowned for its academic excellence and sky-high tuition fees. Most of the students there came from families so wealthy that their monthly allowance was probably more than what we'd spend in a year.

To be honest, my parents could never afford to send me there. But I had worked hard, studied endlessly, and eventually managed to qualify for the scholarship, earning my place. Though the entrance exams were notoriously tough, I had always loved studying. Books were my sanctuary. The written word had always fascinated me, and libraries—well, libraries were like heaven on earth. I could spend hours, even days, lost among the shelves, devouring everything from novels to scientific journals. My old room was never complete without a bookshelf crammed full of my favorite reads.

"Andy, honey, you'll be late if you don't hurry up!" My mom's voice called from downstairs, snapping me out of my reverie.

"I'm coming, Mom!" I called back, my excitement slowly replacing the nerves. This was it—a new start, a new chapter.

I quickly dressed in my favorite floral printed dress, pairing it with a cozy blue sweater that had always felt like a hug. I added my fake glasses, the ones I wore just for fun. Something about them made me feel more prepared, more... studious.

Unlike most teenagers, I had never been drawn to parties or the need to fit in with the popular crowd. I always preferred quieter moments—reading alone in my room, getting lost in a good novel with a cup of tea, or binge-watching a series while snacking on chocolate chip cookies. I missed my friends back in Canada and found myself hoping I could make new ones here.

But, as introverted as I was, one thing I couldn't tolerate was injustice. Arrogant people, bullies, those who pushed others down—I had no patience for them. I had never been afraid to stand up for what was right, no matter the cost.

I glanced in the mirror, running a brush through my long brown hair—my mom's hair. I had inherited her soft, chestnut locks. With my boots on and my bag slung over my shoulder, I felt ready for the day.

I hurried downstairs, where Mom was waiting at the breakfast table, a warm smile on her face. "Honey, I'm going job hunting today, so I'll drop you off at college. Give me a call when you're done, and I'll come pick you up."

"Thanks, Mom," I said, accepting the bowl of oatmeal she placed in front of me. "But you have to pick me up. Otherwise, I'll be stuck spending the night alone in some haunted college building," I added, putting on my most dramatic voice.

Mom laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Don't worry, I won't let that happen. No ghost stories on your first day."

After a quick breakfast, we were on the road. The drive to Williams Brown was peaceful, though my stomach was starting to twist into knots. The closer we got, the more real it felt.

When we finally arrived, my jaw practically hit the floor. The campus was enormous—far larger than I had imagined, with towering stone buildings that looked like they belonged in a historical drama. As we pulled into the parking lot, my eyes widened even more. The rows of cars were nothing short of jaw-dropping. Maybach Exelero, Lamborghini Veneno, Lykan Hypersport, Bugatti Veyron, Pagani Zonda—cars I had only ever seen in movies. The whole scene screamed wealth, and suddenly, I felt small.

"Wow," I breathed, my awe palpable. "These people are rich."

Mom smiled as she pulled to a stop. "You'll do just fine, honey. Remember, you earned your place here."

I nodded, trying to calm my nerves. "Thanks, Mom," I said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "I'll see you later."

"Have a great first day, honey," she said, watching me as I stepped out of the car.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the grand gates of Williams Brown, taking a deep breath to steady myself. The nerves churned inside me, but I wasn't going to let them win.

"Okay," I whispered to myself, squaring my shoulders. "Let's see just how great this day can be."

With one last glance at my mom as she drove away, I stepped forward into the vast unknown of my new life, ready—or at least trying to be ready—for whatever came next.