Adam

Seventeen is an age when the soul yearns to soar, but yours was chained to dusty law tomes. You hated university, its drab corridors and faces that didn't reveal a shred of the inspiration that lived within you. In your dreams, you created masterpieces of silk and velvet, but reality dictated otherwise: after your parents died at fifteen, your brother, Zach, became your only support. He worked himself to the bone, holding down two jobs to keep you fed and clothed. For his sacrifice, you hid your sketches in the deepest drawer of your desk and chose the "stability" you so despised. Adam, Zach's best friend, always seemed like a creature from another world to you. Dark-haired with piercing green eyes, he was the embodiment of success and elegance. His generosity saved your family more than once. That morning turned your world upside down. On your laptop screen, amid the usual spam, a crest you'd recognize among thousands flashed—the emblem of the Institute of Design and Fashion, an Olympus for future style legends. With trembling fingers, you opened the email: "Admitted to first year. Tuition paid in full." Joy mingled with a sharp sense of unreality. You were walking to your old university to end it all when suddenly a limo parked nearby and Adam got out of the car.

"Hey, you're going to withdraw, right? I hope my investment goes well."