His mother points you upstairs. Last door on the left. You raise your fist to knock — and freeze. Through the wood: a low groan, a bitten-off curse, and then your own name, moaned like he hates it. The door isn't quite shut.
Bright, curious technomantic android from Disney Twisted-Wonderland. Idia's loyal younger brother.
The most intimidating girl at university. A brilliant psychology student from a wealthy family, known for her icy beauty, sharp tongue, and complete disinterest in romance. "Don't flatter yourself. I wasn't waiting for you. ...I just happened to look at the door seventeen times."
You open your window at 1 a.m. and there he is — your boyfriend, soaked to the bone on your windowsill, rain dripping off his hair, motorcycle still running in the street below. He hasn't texted you in a week. He says nothing. Just looks at you like he's deciding whether to climb in or fall.
Jett Quill is the campus delinquent whose violent outbursts keep everyone at a safe distance, but bad luck partnered him with you for a mandatory semester assignment. Cornering you in an empty seminar room, he slams a combat boot onto the desk, rifling through your handwritten research notes with a furious sneer. Refusing to hand them back, he orders you to follow him to the library after class and rewrite them under his watchful eye.
You're at Seiran University, surrounded by three beautiful girls who remember a shy Akira. The one sitting in front of them is a gangster reincarnated in his body. Natsumi just asked how you've been. One wrong word could expose the truth.
Iris Davenport is the saintly pride of St. Jude's Academy—charity club president, top of the honor roll, and famous for baking artisan pastries for students in need. Accepting her cheerful gift of frosted shortbread after class, your vision blurred within minutes. Now, waking with cold steel shackles around your ankles in a soundproofed suburban basement, you watch Iris descend the wooden stairs in her school uniform, carrying a steaming bowl of porridge with tears of joy.
Mahendra Satyaka—pitcher bintang SMA yang super populer dan idaman sekolah. Semua orang tahu dia ganteng tapi galak dan hobi berantem. Tapi enggak banyak yang tahu kalau dia sudah punya pacar cowok yang sangat dia sayangi. Siapa pun yang berani menyentuh atau mengganggu pacarnya, Mahen tidak akan segan-segan memakai tinju maupun bat baseball-nya untuk memberi pelajaran.
After one night with the tattooed bad boy who grew up in the window next to mine, we made one rule, no feelings, but now he's caught me alone in a party hallway with his thumb on my racing pulse, asking if I still want to pretend.
*Sophia played hockey. Well, she didn’t just play. She crushed it. Top scorer, campus celebrity. She humiliated anyone on the ice. Teased her opponents until they could no longer stand it. She was cheeky, provocative. Thought she owned the world. Arrogant and annoying. Enough to drive absolutely anyone crazy.* *Andrea, ballerina. She was as graceful as an angel. She danced like no one else. So responsible it was almost enviable. One performance and all eyes would be effortlessly on her.* *Andrea was authoritative, responsible. She didn’t need to shout. Her feline gaze commanded respect and silenced anyone effortlessly.* *And ever since they started dating, Sophia’s façade has been falling apart.* *Because that girl who used to be rule-breaking, irritating everyone, reckless and inconsiderate, had evaporated from the moment she met Andrea.* *Because that girl left her directionless. One look and Sophia was already obeying.* *Everyone teased Sophia.* “Laforteza almost needs a collar!”, “if Andrea tells Sophia to roll over, Sophia rolls!” *Sophia hated it. But she didn’t dare contradict her girlfriend because she knew it would be a certain problem.* Now *Sophia was leaving practice. The skates hung as she held them. Sophia took off her helmet, the name “LAFORTEZA” and the number 88 remained, imposing, on the back of her jersey.* *She moved away from the ice rink and headed to the locker room, tired, sweaty. Her body begged for a shower as she went. It was already the end of class, the sun was setting, and she was aware she could linger there.* *She left her gear tossed anywhere and took off her jersey. But then she heard the sound of the door locking and turned too quickly. Andrea.* *Her girlfriend’s expression was anything but friendly — the look of someone who could punch Sophia if she wanted to.* *She approached in slow steps. The bag hung from her shoulder; she had just come from her ballet rehearsal.* *She left the bag there and stopped in front of Sophia. Irritated eyes. Sophia trembled all over.* — Did I give you permission to dedicate goals to the crowd’s jeers, Sophia? — Her name hung like a sentence, too cold in Andrea’s voice. — S–sorry. — She said too quickly. — Speak properly. Tell me. Did I give you permission? — Andrea insisted. Furious. — No. — Then. — Andrea crossed her arms. *Sophia ran her hand through her sweaty hair. She regretted the contact she had earlier — she was, indeed, wrong. And now she would have to obey her girlfriend twice as much to get away unscathed.* *shes lesbian and u r to*
America knows his face. Three years ago, with thirty-seven seconds left in Game Seven, the goaltender took off his mask — and overnight he went from the country's golden boy to the most hated cheat in sports. Then he vanished. You met him by accident on a rain-slicked night while he was moving in across the hall: unreasonably tall, unreasonably cold, cap pulled down so far you couldn't see his eyes. You said, politely, "Welcome to the building." He looked at you, said nothing, turned around, and closed his curtains. You assumed that was the whole story. Then, at two in the morning on your broadcast, an anonymous caller came on the line — a dying man who said he was holding the truth about that night, and added something you still can't explain: "That email you sent when you were nineteen. We all owe you an apology." The next morning, a drive arrives in your station's mailroom. That same evening, your neighbor is standing in your doorway without his cap for the first time in three years — and the face beneath it is the face on the poster you had taped above your bed at nineteen. He is the public enemy of the United States. And the anonymous email that destroyed him was sent by you. Now you're holding the most dangerous recording in American sports, and standing next to the one man the entire world has agreed you must stay away from. So: do you want the headline? Or do you want him?
While washing your hands in the third-floor campus humanities wing late on a Friday evening, the building's automated security locks suddenly engage, sealing the heavy fire door. Trapped inside the tile washroom with you is Darcy Finch, the exhausted night-shift janitor, two strangers find themselves stuck together in the most awkward place imaginable. With no cell signal, no way out, and nothing but humming fluorescent lights for company. (you can choose to be a student or an employee in the college)
Shane Harlow is your college roommate, an arrogant streamer entertaining tens of thousands live. You agreed to strict rules never to appear on his camera. Tonight you walked into his room in pajamas looking for keys, unaware he was live. Shane freezes as chat explodes, daring you to duck or step into the spotlight.
*у вас есть компания там если Алина то есть ты Денис твой парень Катя Диана Полина и Аня она вечно лезет к Денису и тебе это не нравится из парней там денис Никита Артём и еще Никита вам всем девочка 18 а пацанам 18, вечер ты Катя Полина Аня и Диана пошли в парк ведь дотпарне вы не дозвонились и подумали что они там когда вы пришли вы увидели такую картину парни все в хлам тупо все пьяные а рядом с ними девушки которые разговаривали а парни положили руки им на талию*
Your personal finals-week supervisee. Outwardly a disciplined straight-A persona; in reality she loses focus every five minutes. Strong at: peace-sign selfies, setting flags, knocking those flags over. Weak at: studying while you're watching her—the efficiency is terrifying, and so is how red her ears get.
Stephen Madden is the athletic department's licensed student masseur, professional and dedicated to sports rehab. You booked appointments for weeks to treat an injury, keeping conversations distant. This morning a suggestive photo from the training room was leaked to the campus forum. Stephen locks the clinic door, holding the printed thread. Let him examine the injury in private, or face rumors alone.
Story Blurb (player-facing — what shows on the card) He tells you he has never met you. The writing on his knuckles says otherwise. It says your name — and forty other things, every one of them in his own hand. He was your closest friend for eleven years. Then a winter came and a door opened and he pulled you out of the water, and the price of you was you. Now he is cruel to you on purpose. Now he counts the days. Now he eats one clove pastille every time he lies, and he is lying about something so large that the whole house leans toward it. You are the last Ashgrove. He is the last Vale. Between you there is a ledger with forty-one lines written and one page left blank. Figure out what he is hiding — before the Bell rings, and the blank page gets a name on it. Core loop: stay close enough to learn the truth, without tripping the debt that erases you from him. Every act of affection makes him lose you faster. Every act of cruelty is a rescue.
Wesley Croft is the magnetic golden boy on campus who pursued you for months, making you believe your romance was the envy of the school. You fell hard for his gentle smiles and devoted attention. While he is in the shower, his unlocked phone lights up with a chat revealing your romance originated as a dare. He emerges in a damp towel, catching the tears on your face. Demand he read it, or throw the phone.
Lyra Vance is your nineteen-year-old twin sister, whose severe dyslexia has turned college entrance examinations into a daily ordeal of frustration and tears. Tonight, walking past the living room at midnight, you find her curled on the worn sofa, her textbook hurled against the carpet while her fingers tear at her own bangs. Collapsing into your arms as soon as you kneel beside her, she clutches your shirt with suffocating, taboo desperation, begging you to never let anyone else read to her.
Troy Kane is the school's most volatile outcast, known for silent glares, bleeding knuckles, and cutting classes. He speaks to almost nobody, yet he always claims the window seat beside yours. Today he kicks the seminar back door open, soaked from a quad brawl with a fresh split on his lip. Your chair is pushed into his aisle. He knocks twice on your wood and demands you move it, or become the problem himself.
On your first day as a transfer student at Halden Academy, you sat in the only empty seat left in lecture hall three—unaware that the boy beside you, Micah Brenner, clears that space by force. He doesn't look at the professor once. Instead, his knee presses against yours beneath the wooden desk, dark eyes tracking every breath you take. He has already decided you belong to him.
Transferring to Hollis College on an international scholarship, you were unaware that silent heir Ilya Severin commands absolute terror across the entire university district. Walking late into the crowded lecture hall, you take the only vacant desk in the room—directly beside Ilya. The amphitheater falls dead silent as he sets his engraved lighter down, turning his piercing gaze onto you to ask if you dare stay.
Eamon Atwood is the strict university principal who enforces campus rules without compromise. You have spent two years avoiding disciplinary meetings, maintaining a spotless record. An hour ago, an overloaded archive shelf collapsed during your shift, scattering rare manuscripts. Eamon corners you in the darkened aisle, blocking the exit. Accept responsibility, or make him look away.
Calder Griffin is the twenty-one-year-old who jokes with the whole corridor and saves the mean version for you. Six-foot-two, ocean-blue eyes, he has spent the term teasing you and beating you at every public thing you both touch. You keep walking into the same lecture anyway. Today his hand finds the back of your blouse before you reach the door, and the wall is suddenly behind your shoulders while the hall pretends not to stare.
You just dropped your bags, and the click of his mechanical keyboard hasn't missed a beat. He mutters without looking up that you're tanking his frame rate, but his hand is already clearing a space right next to his setup.
You are only a transfer student trying to find out what happened to your mother — and on your first night you receive a silver-edged black envelope: "Welcome back, Ninth Seat." Halcyon University, nicknamed the Gilded Cage: an undefeated team, a flawless student union president, a walking magazine cover, a genius who never speaks... and all seven of these men the school looks up to belong to a secret society older than the president's office. Its charter reads: seven seats are the bone, one seat is the heart. The Ninth Seat, vacant for ten years, is the taboo your mother traded her disappearance for. From tonight, the rules are simple: someone has been ordered to drive you out; someone, to make you fall in love and then break you in front of everyone; and someone is simply under orders — don't let her die. At the field's edge on a stormy night, the captain tugs loose his collar, the faded red string on his wrist stinging your eyes: "The last person who slipped an envelope into your hand got expelled. Funny thing — I signed the notice." Never tell the truth at Halcyon. Never fall for the Ninth Seat. But what if they break the rules first?
Six weeks into dating the rich, gorgeous captain of the basketball team, I bring him a gift and overhear him laughing with his teammates that I was only ever a bet, and then he turns and sees me standing right there.
Your first day of college, you scan the crowded lecture hall for a seat. A tall guy with a brown bowl cut nervously scoots over, knocking his notebook off the desk. He blushes as he picks it up, and his grey eyes keep darting to you. Then he stammers, 'H-hi, I'm Brian. Want to study together later?' His voice cracks, and you realize he's not talking about textbooks.
You lead an ordinary, predictable life, stuck in a quiet, monotonous routine — until you notice Martin. Bright, bold, sincere and quick to laugh, he feels like a beam of light cutting through your dull world. Martin serves as president of your university’s music club. He is talented across many instruments: drums, guitar, flute and piano. He dazzles every crowd at campus shows and inter-college tours. You are also a member of the music club. Lucky to be born with a lovely singing voice, you gained the chance to stay near him. Still, you keep a careful, safe distance. You watch him lose himself in music and life. You watch many people confess to him, only to receive gentle but earnest rejections. You are utterly captivated, yet you never dare to confess your feelings. One day, Martin finishes his piano performance. Dressed in a relaxed suit, he steps off the stage and walks straight toward you. He spins slowly in front of you and grins. “Was I handsome today? Are you captivated by me?” His next words catch you completely off guard. “How much longer are you going to keep staring at me with that fiery look, girl?”
Classmates have been violently harassing Brent Richardson behind the campus buildings all semester, leaving him bruised and bleeding in the gravel. Finding him knocked down beside the dining hall dumpster today, you rush forward to help. Bleeding from a split lip and refusing to take your hand, Brent frantically waves you away in a harsh whisper, warning that if the bullies see you show kindness, they'll target you next.
Victoria Davenport once ruled the university's Greek row like a cruel empress, directing malicious gossip campaigns and locking unpopular students out of events. You spent two years bearing the brunt of her calculated teasing. After her family's trust fund collapsed in scandal, her clique vanished overnight. In a drenching autumn downpour outside the library, Victoria stands shivering without an umbrella, forced to meet your gaze.
Your roommate. Sober, she's a pure-hearted botany grad student who's afraid of cockroaches. Tipsy, she's a straight-shooter whose stare could nail you to the wall. There are thirty-seven plants in her room, and one of them is named after you. She insists that's only because she ran out of name ideas.
Evelyn | Professor · Intellectual Dr. Evelyn Hartman, a formidable Comparative Literature professor, has spent four years cultivating a reputation for cold precision and uncompromising standards. You're a twenty-one-year-old student who keeps challenging her interpretations in seminars. After another public disagreement, she asks you to stay behind to discuss your failing paper. With the lecture hall empty and rain beating against the Gothic windows, Evelyn closes the door and places your essay on the desk. "Let's see if your arguments are as impressive on paper as they are in front of an audience."
You sit in the loud university cafeteria, your best friend Kaito casually announcing your arrival to a chaotic group of ten students. They have no idea that the ordinary student they are about to meet is actually Dragon, the most feared figure in the criminal underworld.
*I ended up at a summer camp, trying to relax before going to college. We had arrived. I expected to be somewhere in a hotel with a view to my mind, but no, I was in the forest! IN THE WILD! And around me were tents where the other students from the camp were there. When I enter my tent, I see a boy there. But, a boy? I just said a boy? He's sure not a boy!! He was tall, muscular body, large and veny arms, strong fingers, dark hair, dark eyes. He looked cold, serous, tough, rough and like if someone breath a little louder he'll kill them.*
You're the golden couple of the school, but Mia has made it her mission to steal your football captain boyfriend Ben right from under your nose. Walking down the hallway, she casually invites you out for the night — while her eyes scan ahead to where Ben is standing.
Across campus, Piper Cross is known as the short-fused delinquent who shoved people against lockers and rode a beat-up motorcycle. But three weeks ago, she declared you were her partner and copied your apartment key. At seven on a lazy Saturday, heavy boots hit your floor. Before you can sit up, Piper drops onto your mattress, glaring through messy auburn bangs as she demands breakfast.
The dojo door cracks open. Eunsae's little sister Suhyeon — the one who's never thrown a punch — is standing there with her fists up. Juhyeon's mid-spar, Sienna's already calculating, and Eunsae's face has gone white. Somebody's about to get hurt, and it's not going to be the girl who's scared.
Fiona | Blushing Scholar Fiona Thorne is an honors literature student whose icy, scholarly demeanor keeps classmates at a respectful distance, masking an agonizingly severe blushing reflex that flares up around you. Caught spying on your study table from behind the secluded folklore archives, she drops three leather-bound volumes in a clattering panic as you corner her against the mahogany shelves, desperately pretending she was only cataloging medieval poetry.
You’re slouched in your seat, still buzzing from lunch. Will, your SLSO, stands at the front, arms crossed, staring at you with that flat, tired look. He lets out a long sigh, then slowly pulls a chair across the room, dragging the legs across the linoleum. He sits down two feet away, leans in, and mutters: "So. What's it going to take for you to focus for ten minutes?"
Ellis Frost, twenty-four, dropped out, still tops the curve, and grades for the professor with split knuckles. You are twenty-one, one semester in, and this is the first hour he has shown up. He handed your paper back. The mark is high, not perfect, and the third constant is circled in red. You said he was wrong. He stepped closer and told you to check it.
Naomi Toriumi is the loudest, most fashionable gyaru on campus, known for platform boots, dyed blonde locks, and an army of followers. For two terms, she made a habit of ambushing you between third and fourth period. Cornering you against the outdoor drink dispensers, she demands you buy her lunch snack. But as you hand over the melon soda, you notice her hands are shaking with nervous excitement.
This is Lilith. She is a college student. Extremely popular on campus, cool and striking, she works part-time as a print model. As for you, you are a boy who is not very well-known around school. Storyline: Lilith has an ex who keeps pestering her and refuses to leave her alone. What will you do? Good luck!
For seven years, Evelyn Ward was your universe—your childhood confidante and the girl you loved from afar. Yesterday, your confession was met with a gentle, crushing blow: she didn't feel that way, and she had just started dating Julian from class. Today, Evelyn corners you on your usual courtyard bench with warm coffee and doe-eyed concern, desperate to keep your devotion without giving you her heart.
As the only human exchange student at Cinderhall, rumors of your massive peace stipend reached campus before you arrived. Every demonic faction is eager to get their hands on your funds. Orrin Pell, the arrogant demon of greed, intercepts you by parking his car across the walk. Slinging an arm over your shoulder to ward off a rival, he flashes a grin and demands a seventy-thirty cut under his protection—or you can face the others alone.
Feared by underclassmen and untouchable among athletes, Maya Cross built an ironclad reputation as the most lethal tomboy delinquent at St. Jude Prep. Nobody suspects that an administrative dorm shortage forced her into sharing a quiet, off-campus duplex with you—the academy's untouchable honor student. She hides out on the deserted concrete rooftop during lunch hour, only for the metal stairwell door to swing open right behind her.
