Mirror Crown
The day dragged on longer than Xavier anticipated. Each new moment felt heavier than the last, as he walked through the motions of being Christian Classic—someone whose life he had no connection to. His mind buzzed with questions, but there was no time to think. He had to act, pretend, and blend into a world that wasn't his own.
Walking into the classroom felt like stepping into an unfamiliar world. The students greeted him with a mix of friendly waves and nods, some even exchanging looks of relief when they saw him. Xavier had no idea what any of them meant by their expressions, but he tried to smile and wave back.
He didn't know where to sit, who to talk to, or what to expect. The room was filled with eager chatter, most of it directed toward him, and he felt a sinking sensation in his stomach.
Just act like Christian, he reminded himself. Don't mess this up.
Xavier chose a seat near the front, as he saw Christian had always preferred, and tried to settle in. The classroom was filled with students who seemed to know exactly what was going on, all immersed in their conversations as if they had been a part of this routine for years. Xavier, on the other hand, was an outsider—lost in a sea of unfamiliar faces.
Before he could settle into his thoughts, a voice echoed across the room, breaking through the murmur of conversation.
"Alright, class, let's get started."
The professor stepped into the room, wearing a sharply pressed suit, and immediately the room quieted down. His gaze swept over the students, and for a moment, his eyes lingered on Xavier.
"Ah, Christian," the professor said with a smile, acknowledging him in front of the class. "Glad to see you back."
Xavier forced a smile, nodding as if he knew exactly what this interaction was about. They all know Christian. I'm supposed to be him. Just keep going.
"Thank you, Professor," Xavier replied, his voice steady, though his insides were anything but. He could feel all eyes on him as the professor continued with the lecture.
But as the lesson progressed, Xavier found himself struggling to keep up. He had no idea what the professor was talking about. The subject matter seemed important, but it felt like a foreign language. Economic theories, business strategies—terms that Christian likely knew like the back of his hand—were completely new to Xavier.
Every time the professor paused to ask the class a question, Xavier found himself frozen. He couldn't contribute. He didn't know the answer. He had no idea what to say.
As the professor looked over the class, calling on various students, Xavier sank deeper into his seat, hoping the professor wouldn't call on him. He had no idea what Christian would say. What if he was expected to contribute? What if someone asked him a question he couldn't answer?
Focus, Xavier. Focus.
The clock on the wall ticked louder in his ears, and each second felt like it could be his undoing. Finally, the professor moved on, continuing the lesson. Xavier breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.
Suddenly, the door to the classroom opened with a soft creak, and a new student entered—someone Xavier hadn't noticed before. A tall, confident-looking guy, dressed in a sharp blazer and jeans, walked in with a purposeful stride. He was the kind of person who immediately commanded attention.
"Ah, Richard," the professor greeted him. "You're late again, I see."
Richard smirked, shrugging. "Wouldn't miss this class for the world."
Xavier watched as the new student moved to the back of the room and took a seat. There was something about Richard's presence that seemed oddly familiar. The way he held himself—confident, almost too confident. He seemed... different from the others. Xavier couldn't put his finger on it, but something about Richard felt like a challenge.
Xavier's heart began to race. Who is he? Why do I feel like he might know something I don't?
It wasn't just his appearance or the way he carried himself—it was something in the way he observed Xavier. Richard's eyes briefly locked with Xavier's, and in that instant, a flicker of something passed between them. Richard's gaze was sharp, calculating, as if he could see right through Xavier. It sent a chill down Xavier's spine.
Does he know? Does he suspect?
But before Xavier could think any further, the class resumed. The professor continued with the lecture, oblivious to the tension that had quietly settled in the room. Xavier, however, couldn't focus anymore. Richard's presence, his gaze—it was like a shadow hanging over him.
Focus on the lesson. Pretend you belong here. Pretend you know this world.
But the longer Xavier stayed in the classroom, the more he realized that he didn't belong. He was a stranger in a life that wasn't his. And as Richard's eyes lingered on him one more time, Xavier wondered just how long he could keep up the act before the truth came crashing down.