The Mercedes GLE 450 4MATIC Coupé rolled onto campus like it was making its own grand entrance. Heads turned instantly—students paused mid conversation, some even pulled out their phones. The SUV gleamed under the California sun, its engine purring like a beast that knew it was being admired.
Renae threw the door open first, stepping out like she was on a red carpet. She tossed her hair, clutch raised high, blazer flaring like wings.
"Behold!" she shouted, voice carrying across the quad. "The CEO of Chaos has arrived!"
I climbed out slower, adjusting my bag, trying to look composed. But I could feel the stares, the whispers.
"Great," I muttered. "Now everyone thinks we're celebrities."
Renae leaned against the hood, striking a pose.
"Correction: they think I'm a celebrity. You're my bodyguard."
A cluster of students nearby exchanged looks:
• Travis, a business major in a crisp polo, scoffed. "Daddy's money. Some of us actually work for our tuition." His jaw tightened, but his eyes lingered on the car with envy.
• Mariann, fashion design student with neon nails and oversized sunglasses, tilted her head. "Cute car. But honey, that blazer with those heels? Try harder." She smirked, clearly threatened by Renae's confidence.
• Jay, gamer with shaggy hair and a backpack covered in anime pins, muttered, "Figures. She's probably one of those animation majors who thinks she's better than everyone." His eyes flicked toward me, jealousy simmering.
• Titi, theater kid with dramatic eyeliner, whispered to her friend, "They look like they're auditioning for a music video. I hate them already."
Renae locked the door with the Smart Key and strode toward them like she was on a mission. Stopping in front of Crisp Polo, she snorted at him like she'd just smelled the whole sewer.
"So it's a crime now for Daddy to spoil his princess so she doesn't end up with stingy men like you?" Renae clapped back, not tolerating bullies.
"Stingy????... Bitch, do you know who I am?" Mr. Crisp Shirt stepped dangerously close, like he was ready to throw hands.
Feeling my anger boil, I gritted my teeth, yanked Renae back, and replaced myself in her spot.
"No, I don't… but I know who I am. I'm her bodyguard slash sister whose shoes don't just perfectly sit on her feet alone but are ready to be up each and every one of your asses if you mess with us. I hate bullies, I despise them. And USC is big enough for you to stay the hell away from us."
I stepped forward, venom in my voice, giving them all one last look.
"Sometimes instead of being assholes, try being a rainbow—bright and glowing instead of trying to mess up someone's positive, amazing day. Now, instead of letting you ruin my perfectly first day with my sister, I'm not going to let your asshole attitudes get the best of us… especially me."
Renae's grip tightened on my arm, her grin stretching wide as she slid oversized shades onto my face. She already had her own pair perched perfectly, like we'd rehearsed this moment.
"If they want a show, sis… then let's give them one!" she declared.
Before I could protest, she spun me around, her voice bursting into a half sung, half shouted melody:
We don't break, we don't bend,
We shine brighter than they pretend.
Daddy's money for his princess, sure—
But the future is ours, and we're aiming for more.
Step aside, USC, here we come,
Two sisters rising, second to none.
We're not here to fight, we're here to shine,
Your dirty attitude won't dim our light this time.
Sisters for life, chasing higher heights,
Together we blaze, unstoppable in our flight.
Gasps and laughter rippled through the crowd as Renae pulled me forward, her dance steps exaggerated and wild—twirling, stomping, even dipping me dramatically like we were on stage.
"Renae! People are staring!" I hissed, trying to keep my balance.
"Good. Let them stare. Let them know we're not afraid to be loud, crazy, and unstoppable!" she laughed, her energy infectious.
She dragged me through the throng of students, weaving between the four rich kids who had started the commotion. Travis scowled, Mariann rolled her eyes, Jay muttered under his breath, and Titi clutched her eyeliner like it was a sword. But none of them dared step in front of Renae's whirlwind energy.
"Future architects, future actresses, future game designers, future animators—we're all here chasing dreams! So why waste time tearing each other down when we could be building each other up? People out here throwing jealousy, envy, hearts so dirty they think being a bully makes them champs. This is not a competition—it's life.
You wanna be a sewer pipe, polluting the pavement we're building? Hell no. Not today. I don't believe in losses—I believe in rising. And if you think your shade can dim our shine, you're about to learn: we don't play small, we blaze. Sisters stepping forward, unstoppable, untouchable, and already rewriting the story. We don't dim, we don't fold, we don't break.
We shine, we build, we perform, we're just out here to create!" she shouted, her words echoing across the courtyard.
Students who had been watching began clapping, some even joining her rhythm with stomps and snaps.
I couldn't help it—I laughed, caught in her chaos, pulled along by her fearless energy.
"Fine. Let's dance our way into the future."
Together, we pushed through the crowd, shades on, heads high, leaving behind the sneers of the rich kids. The commotion had transformed into a moment—a declaration that this was our beginning, and nothing, not envy or arrogance, would dim it.
Leaving the crowd behind, whistles rising from all the hype, we spun around one last time and bowed.
"Thank you… thank you," we spoke in unison, laughing.
"You are ridiculous, Renae," I said, shaking my head. She never failed to amuse me.
"Ridiculously talented, boo—"
"Now that's an entrance," a deep male voice cut in, causing us to spin in his direction.
"OOOh… hello," Renae spoke first. "I'm Renae Richards, and this is my sister Veronica Thompson."
"Straight to business, I see. I like it! Well, I'm Kevon Alexander, one of the advisors at the School of Dramatic Arts (SDA)," Kevon responded.
Renae shrieked loudly, almost on her tippy toes, full of excitement.
"Am doing Acting and Architecture!" she shouted, jumping like she was about to fly.
"Wooow, you're a busy one and I must commend… That's an amazing combination package you've got there," Kevon praised. "Since I'm in one of your majors, I'd be more than happy to assist in course planning, scheduling, and degree requirements."
"Yes,,, yes,,, yes and YAAASSSSSSS!!!" Renae practically screamed, her voice echoing across the courtyard.
"You are most definitely Julian's child… HE GOT HIS TAILOR SUIT FIT PERFECTLY LOL!!!" I teased, shaking my head with a grin.
"Come on then, Veronica," he continued warmly. "I'll assist you to a guide who can help with your major. Or if you're in acting, I'd be happy to assist too."
"I would love that. However, I'm into games, apps, and anime," I spoke proudly.
"Wow! Two beautiful, brilliant minds…" Kevon said with genuine interest. "Let's go."
Following him, I felt nervous but excited, clutching my acceptance packet that read:
Major: Computer Science (Games)
Minor: Animation & Digital Arts
He led us straight to the Student Welcome Center, where orientation leaders greeted us with maps, schedules, and lanyards with our names.
"Fabian Trace… meet Veronica Thompson and Renae Richards," Kevon introduced politely.
"Welcome to USC! Veronica, Computer Science (Games) and Animation, right? And Renae… Acting and Architecture?" Fabian asked smoothly.
Renae grinned. "That's me. I want to design buildings by day and perform on stage by night… But wait, are there spies or ninjas here? Because how did you know my major?"
"I never told anyone this, but I'm actually a fortune teller," Fabian replied so seriously I almost believed him… almost.
Kevon burst out laughing, punching him lightly in the stomach.
"You are so dumb. I can't believe we're best friends. A fortune teller? Really?? Then I'm Jean Grey—I can read minds," Kevon said confidently.
"I knew it!" Renae jumped excitedly. "I knew I would like you. So since we're sharing secrets, I'm Professor X. I found my people!" she declared through over dramatic fake tears.
"Now that's how you do an act. You never picked a better major," Kevon said, walking over to shake her hand like she'd just landed a role. "See you bright and early Monday morning."
"But seriously, how did you know, Fabian?" I finally asked, curious, while feeling this amazing rush of how much I was going to enjoy being here.
"Honestly? Your acceptance packet," he answered, pointing at the folder in my hands with a smile.
"Am surrounded by psychopaths," I gasped, amused.
"You're surrounded by art, my darling," Renae corrected, pulling me into a hug. "Am gonna miss you," she said like I was going away for five hundred years and we'd never see each other again.
"It's only for a few hours," I replied, hugging her back, knowing deep down I was going to miss her too.
"It feels longer… and we haven't separated yet," Renae whispered, her eyes glassy with tears she was holding back.
"Hey… we're gonna meet back right here and talk and be crazy, ok?" I encouraged, cupping her cheeks, kissing her forehead, and pulling her into a hug. I felt her nervousness melt into my embrace, her breath releasing in relief. When she pulled away, she looked like the Renae I knew again.
"I love you… now go get those USC butts."
"They won't know what hits them," she said confidently.
I laughed. "You're going to be the busiest person here."
"You mean we," she corrected, laughing. We hugged again, and then I stood watching her wave wildly as she followed Mr. Alexander, disappearing into the crowd.
Turning back, Fabian nodded, signaling for me to follow him. Smiling, I inhaled, nervousness crashing through every inch of my body. The Welcome Center buzzed with other freshmen and polished staff, but Fabian Trace moved through it like he'd been born here. USC shirt fitted just right, clipboard in hand, stride confident. He didn't waste words—just a quick, "Veronica? This way," when he saw me pause, observing my surroundings, before leading me down a hall lined with posters of student projects.
We stopped outside a door marked Viterbi School of Engineering – Academic Advising. Fabian knocked lightly, then turned to me with professional calm.
"Your advisor's inside. She'll set up your plan. I'll wait here."
I stepped in, clutching my bag tighter. The office smelled of coffee and fresh paper. Dr. Chen, my advisor, smiled warmly and gestured for me to sit.
"Welcome, Veronica. I see you're starting in the Games + Apps track. Tell me—what excites you most? Coding, design, or storytelling?"
I hesitated, then blurted, "Anime and games. I want to build worlds, characters… maybe apps that connect people to those worlds."
Her smile widened. "Perfect. That means we'll balance technical foundations with creative electives. First semester, you'll take Intro to Programming, Foundations of Game Design, Calculus I, and one elective—perhaps Anime Studies or Creative Media. How does that sound?"
"Terrifying," I admitted, half laughing.
"Good. Terrifying means you care." She flipped open a sheet labeled Four Year Success Plan.
"Year One: Programming basics, game design foundations, calculus, anime/media elective.
Year Two: Data structures, mobile app development, interactive storytelling, psychology elective.
Year Three: Advanced game engines, UI/UX design, internship at a studio or tech company.
Year Four: Capstone project—your own game or app, presented to industry professionals."
I stared at the paper, heart pounding. "So by senior year… I'll actually launch something?"
"Exactly. And along the way, you'll build a portfolio. Every project, every prototype—document it. Employers want proof of what you can do. You'll meet with me every semester, and with your professors during office hours. Build relationships early—they'll become mentors."
I nodded, nerves twisting into excitement. For the first time, the future didn't feel like a cliff—it felt like a challenge I wanted to climb.
Dr. Chen closed the folder, her tone firm but encouraging. "Four years from now, I expect you to walk across that stage with confidence, a portfolio that screams hire me, and the skills to bring your anime, apps, and games to life."
I exhaled, smiling. "Okay. I'm ready."
Outside, Fabian was leaning against the wall, arms folded, posture straight. His eyes flicked up as I stepped out. Professional, calm, but there was something in that glance—quick, subtle, like he'd noticed me more than he should.
"How'd it go?" he asked, voice steady.
"She basically mapped out my entire life for the next four years," I said, half laughing.
Fabian smirked, the corner of his mouth tugging just slightly. "Good. Means you've got a plan."
He straightened, motioning toward the exit. "Come on. I'll walk you to your next stop."
And as I followed, I couldn't shake the thought: he was doing his job, staying professional—but damn, under those quick glances, I felt like a goddess.