Max Luckey: The Undisputed Student Billionaire

Chapter 10

Jacob scoffed so loudly it echoed through the entire room. The sound was mocking, theatrical. He leaned back on his chair, arms spread across its back like he owned the place. “Come on,” he said, his eyes darting around the room for validation, “you don’t expect us to believe that is a real Class 3X bag, do you?”

Everyone’s attention shifted back to Max, who stood quietly beside Trisha, holding the now-unwrapped bag. The lights gleamed against its metallic accents, but the room was caught in a strange silence, waiting for someone else to say something.

“Let’s be real,” Jacob continued, standing up this time, feeding off the silent tension. “You can get a fake copy for what—ninety bucks? Maybe less if you know the right streets.”

Low laughter trickled around the hall.

Max didn’t move. His eyes stayed low. The rain had stopped, but the wetness on his shoulders had soaked into the air around him.

Trisha stepped forward. “Jacob, shut up.”

It was sharp. Everyone turned toward her now.

“I don’t care if it’s fake or real,” she continued. “At least he thought about me. That’s more than I can say for some people.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on, Trisha. You’re just saying that because you don’t want to admit you’ve been played. He could’ve gotten you anything. But that? That’s like spitting on your birthday.”

The words stung Max more than he let on. But what hurt even deeper was Trisha’s silence after that. She didn’t defend him again. She didn’t say it was okay or insist the gift was perfect. She just looked at the bag in her hands.

It was a silent admission. She didn’t believe it was real either.

Max's hands tightened at his sides. Maybe he should’ve waited for the proper wrapping. Maybe he should’ve dressed better, used a cab instead of biking through the rain. But he had been excited. He had wanted the night to be special.

Evelyn’s voice cut through the tension.

“This is exactly why you don’t bring... people like him to places like this,” she said, her face twisted with exaggerated pity. “Look at him. He looks like he just swam here. And now this knockoff bag? Trisha, I mean—really?”

Max looked up at her. “I didn’t come here to impress anyone,” he said calmly.

Evelyn gave a laugh so sharp it felt rehearsed. “Well, congratulations. You didn’t.”

“Evelyn!” Trisha hissed, shooting her a glare. “That’s enough.”

But the atmosphere had shifted. It was no longer a celebration. It was a show. And Max was the fool on stage.

Trying to save the evening, Trisha raised her glass. “Let’s toast,” she said, forcing a smile. “To friendship, and—”

Jacob, unbothered, cut her off. “Actually, Trisha,” he began with a smug smile, “since you brought up gifts… I’ll make sure you get a real Class 3X bag. One fresh off the fashion line.”

He turned to the crowd with a boastful chuckle. “By the way, I’m officially joining the cast of Sun-Rost Season 2. Ethan and I start filming soon. The contract with Prix Movie House gets signed tomorrow.”

“Big bucks coming in,” someone from the back joked.

“Oh, you know it,” Jacob replied smoothly. “So, Trish, what’s a few thousand dollars for the girl of the night?”

The crowd cheered, clinking glasses again. It seemed the night had found its rhythm again—but Max had already checked out.

He could feel the air squeezing him, pressing him out of place. The laughter, the glances, the whispers—he didn’t belong.

Trisha looked at him, worried. “Max... just ignore them.”

He shook his head. “No. It’s fine. I just came to drop the gift. I’ve got something I need to take care of.”

He turned before she could protest. Roland and Sarah tried to stop him at the door.

“Bro, don’t let them get to you,” Roland said.

“Max, please. Just sit. It’ll pass,” Sarah added.

Max smiled faintly. “Thanks, guys. Really. But I’ll be fine.”

He stepped out into the parking lounge. The night air was damp and heavy. He exhaled deeply, letting the silence of the outdoors wash over him.

 His fingers trembled, not from the cold, but from the weight of everything crashing over him.

He pulled out his phone. Scrolled. Stopped at a contact labeled simply: Grandma.

The line rang. Once. 

She answered.

“Max?”

“I need a favor.”

There was a short Silence.

“I want to buy the Sun-Rost movie rights.”

Another pause. A long one this time. He could hear waves in the background, the sound of a breeze.

“You want to buy the movie rights?” she said, her tone amused. “You’re finally thinking like one of us, a true Luckey.”

“I’m tired of them looking down on me,” Max said quietly. 

His grandmother chuckled. “Leave it with me. I’ll call you back.”

The line went dead.

Max exhaled and started pedaling home. The wind whipped his face, but it felt cleaner somehow—like a new beginning was unfolding with each rotation of the wheels.

By the time he stepped through his front door, drenched in sweat and emotion, his phone buzzed.

[1 New Message: Grandma]

>It was a little hard considering the time, but I bought the entire studio instead. Prix Movie House is yours now. Also, I’m proud of you. You’re finally stepping into who you are.

Max stared at the screen. Prix Movie House?

Jacob scoffed, his voice loud and biting. “That cannot be the original Class 3X,” he declared, arms crossed with smug certainty. “There’s no way a poor miscreant like Max could afford it. That’s a fake, no doubt about it. You can pick one up for a hundred bucks on any street corner.”

The room fell silent. Whispers stirred among the crowd. The music played on, but it now felt like distant background noise. A few guests leaned toward one another, muttering their agreement with Jacob’s claim. Max stood there, the gift still in his hands, feeling the weight of a hundred eyes pressing down on him.

Trisha’s face tensed. “Jacob, shut up,” she said sharply, her voice louder than she intended. “I don’t care if it’s original or not. He brought it for me because he wanted to. That means something.”

Jacob smirked. “Really? You’re defending him now?”

Trisha didn’t answer. She held the bag with a subtle hesitance, her thoughts twisting. Deep inside, she did wonder—was it fake? She hadn’t expected Max to bring her a Class 3X. He could have gone for something simpler, more within reach. If it truly was a fake, it might’ve been better not to bring it at all.

Max stood quietly, fists clenched in his soaked jeans. His mind replayed every decision—his frantic rush, the rain, ditching the wrapping, all for this moment. He could have waited. He should have. Now, he was nothing more than the joke of the night.

He opened his mouth to explain. “It’s not—”

But before he could finish, Evelyn cut in, her voice sharp and dismissive. “You irritate me,” she said, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “I don’t know what’s more annoying—your face or your attitude. What made you think this was your kind of party?”

Several people laughed—softly at first, then louder as if Evelyn’s cruelty had given them permission. Max's chest tightened. His knuckles whitened, gripping the strap of his bag like it was the last thing anchoring him to the moment.

“Evelyn,” Trisha hissed, giving her a warning look.

But Evelyn ignored her. “Trisha, why would you even let someone like him in? Look at him. He doesn’t belong here.”

Trisha tried to salvage the moment. She stood and lifted her glass. “Let’s just toast, okay? To friends, to surprises, and to memories.”

Jacob leaned back in his chair with exaggerated ease. “And to real gifts,” he added, chuckling. “By the way, Trisha,” he said, shifting his tone to one of polished arrogance, “don’t worry. I’ll get you the real Class 3X. No matter the cost.”

Max’s gaze dropped to the ground.

Jacob wasn’t finished. “I’m signing with Prix Movie House tomorrow. Sidekick role in Sun-Rost Season 2.” He beamed. “Big bucks coming in.”

A few people clapped. Evelyn's eyes lit up. “No way! That’s huge!” she said, grabbing her brother’s arm. “Prix is the top of the top!”

“Exactly,” Jacob replied. “Trisha deserves more than recycled trash in a plastic bag.”

Trisha forced a smile, then gave Evelyn a look sharp enough to cut through metal. The message was clear: stop.

The rest of the night dragged on, but for Max, it had already ended. Every look, every whisper, every chuckle buried deeper into his confidence. It wasn’t just embarrassment—it was betrayal by a night he had tried so hard to make meaningful.

Without a word, he stood up.

“Max—” Roland reached out, but Max waved him off.

“Just came to drop the gift,” Max muttered. “I’ve got something to handle.”

Sarah moved toward him. “Don’t go like this—”

“It’s fine,” Max said, managing a small, tired smile. “I’m good.”

And with that, he stepped out of the venue into the cool night air. The streets were damp, glistening under the city lights. As he walked to the parking lot, Max’s breath grew slower, more controlled.

He reached his bicycle, brushed the water off the seat, and sat. But before he pedaled off, he pulled out his phone.

He scrolled past familiar names—Roland, Sarah, even Trisha. Then he stopped on one: Grandma LUCKEY.

He tapped the call icon.

The phone rang once. Twice. Then a click.

“Max?” The warm, aged voice answered from the other end.

“Grandma,” he said, his voice low and steady, “I need a favor.”

There was silence for a moment. “Go on.”

“I want to buy the rights to Sun-Rost,” he said. “All of it.”

Another silence. Then a long exhale.

“Movie rights?” she repeated, amused. “Now that’s an unexpected ask.”

“I need this one, Grandma. I won’t explain why. I just—need it.”

She paused, then answered with a gentle firmness. “I’ll call you back in a few hours. I’m overseas at the moment.”

Max nodded. “Thank you.”

He hung up and pedaled home, headlights casting his shadow long on the rain-dark streets. The night air bit into his skin, but inside, something had changed. He wasn’t angry—he was focused.

By the time he stepped into his small apartment, his phone buzzed. A message.

He opened it.

From: Grandma LUCKEY

I bought the whole movie house instead. Prix now belongs to us. I like this new Max. Maybe you're finally embracing who you are—the heir to the LUCKEY empire.

Max stared at the screen, reading the message twice.

He sank onto the couch, breathless.

Tomorrow, Jacob would walk in expecting to sign a life-changing deal. But instead, it would be Max waiting at the other side of

the table. For the first time in his life, Max held the cards.

And this time, he wasn’t folding.