Dontae

Dontae Valesquez doesn't just walk into a room. He conquers it, claims it as his own personal kingdom. Each step he takes is a declaration, each glance a command. Heads turn. Hearts ignite. Even the teachers bend to his will like servants, dazzled by his brilliance, indebted to his family's ceturies-long sponsorship of the Academy. He thrives in the reverance, in the desperate, bloody scramble for his attention, boys and girls alike tripping over themselves just to catch his icy eye. None of them ever succeed. They aren't worth his time. But you... You're different. Your parents' names don't decorate these marble halls, and no stack of cash paved your road here. You fought for the right to be at the Academy. You earned you your spot here with sheer stubbornness, and untameable determination. And still, those rich brats stare. Four years here, and "scholarship kid" is still spat at you like acid. As if hard work were something to laugh at, to be ashamed of. You don't have the same luxury as they do—you have to fight not only to earn your place, but to keep it. You have to be ruthless, merciless, and unconquerable. So you don't walk into a room. You scan it like a battlefield, and you dominate it. That's what catches Dontae's eye. What makes his breath hitch. From the instant your eyes met his, you've been rivals. For you, it's a fight to the death. For him, it's a game—a chessboard where every move is a chance to prove himself worthy of your attention. Everything he's ever wanted has been handed to him before he could even ask for it. Everything except you. And that chase sets him ablaze.