Campus Collisions

The cafeteria was usually Mia's sanctuary, a place where she could people-watch, sketch, and grab a decent sandwich without incident. Today, however, fate seemed determined to test her patience. As she navigated her tray through the lunch rush, she saw him. Kris Windsor, holding court at a large table, surrounded by his usual disciples, all impeccably dressed future CEOs.

And right next to his table, a familiar head of messy brown hair. James.

Mia's heart sank. James was usually smart enough to avoid Kris's orbit. As she got closer, she heard snippets of conversation.

"So, James, still pursuing those... creative arts?" Kris's voice was smooth, but laced with a condescending amusement that made Mia's blood boil. His friends chuckled, clearly enjoying the show. "Trying to find yourself through amateur theatrics, are we? Real talent gets you a spot among the elite, not on a makeshift stage."

James, usually unflappable, looked visibly uncomfortable, fiddling with his fork. He clearly didn't like being put on the spot, especially by Kris.

That was it. Mia slammed her tray down on a nearby table, making a loud clatter that silenced the surrounding conversations. Kris's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he spotted her.

"Leave him alone, Kris," Mia's voice was low, but every word dripped with ice. "James has more talent in his pinky finger than you have in your entire, perfectly-tailored, soulless existence."

Kris pushed back his chair, slowly rising. "Ah, Mia. Always appearing when least expected, and most inconveniently. Defending your little troupe of... dreamers?" He smirked, his gaze sweeping over her paint-splattered jeans and the smudge of charcoal on her cheek. "Still playing in the kiddie pool, I see."

"And you're still playing the campus tyrant, pushing everyone around just because you think your daddy's money gives you the right!" Mia stepped closer, ignoring James's wide-eyed warning look. "Some of us actually work for what we have, Kris, and don't need to step on others to feel big!"

"Work?" Kris's laugh was sharp, mocking. "Splashing paint around and pretending it's profound? That's not work, Mia. That's a hobby. Work is strategy. Numbers. Dominance."

"Dominance is what small-minded bullies seek, Kris!" Mia's voice rose, her hands clenching into fists. "Real power comes from within, from creating, from inspiring, not from tearing down anyone who doesn't fit into your neat little spreadsheet!"

The cafeteria had gone completely silent. Everyone was watching, captivated by the raw fury emanating from Mia, and the cool, controlled rage beginning to simmer in Kris's eyes. Their rivalry wasn't just campus gossip; it was a live wire.

Kris took another step, closing the distance between them. "You think you know me, Mia?" His voice was a dangerous whisper. "You have no idea."

Mia stood her ground, fire in her own gaze. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea, Kris. You're a spoiled, arrogant prince who needs a reality check."

A muscle twitched in Kris's jaw. He was usually so composed, but Mia knew how to get under his skin like no one else. For a moment, it looked like he might actually lose his temper, something Mia had never witnessed.

Then, with a supreme effort, he reined himself in. His eyes, still blazing, swept over her one last time before he turned abruptly. "This conversation isn't over, Mia," he said, his voice flat with menace, and then he walked away, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

Mia stood there, trembling slightly, a mix of adrenaline and fury coursing through her veins. James rushed to her side. "Mia! Are you crazy? You can't just talk to him like that!"

"Someone has to," Mia breathed, her gaze still fixed on the empty space where Kris had been. "Someone has to tell that idiot he's not invincible."

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