The Campus Loser’s Billionaire System

Sky City

The rain slicked the asphalt outside the worn-down diner, reflecting the neon signs Dean Anders could never afford to eat under.

He pulled his jacket tight against the chill, his hand slipping into his pocket to touch the small, worn leather pouch inside.

Every dollar, every nickel he’d scraped together over the last four months was in that pouch.

Three hundred and forty dollars.

Just enough to take Maya to L'Étoile, the Michelin-starred restaurant she’d been dropping hints about for weeks.

Maya had been cold lately. Distant.

She barely looked at him when they walked together, her eyes always glued to her phone, her answers short and clipped.

But Dean convinced himself she was just stressed.

If he could take her out, if he could show her that he could give her the finer things, maybe the spark between them would reignite. He loved her too much to let her slip away.

His phone buzzed in his palm.

It was a text from Felix Croft: Need a quick run. $200 cash if you drop a package off at the Grand Regency, Room 402. Right now.

Two hundred dollars for a ten-minute errand. That would push his dinner fund well past the mark, maybe even enough to buy Maya a bouquet of her favorite white lilies.

With a relieved smile, Dean quickly messaged back a quick ‘On my way’ and met Felix in the parking lot behind the campus gym.

Felix, tall, effortless, and wearing a watch that cost more than Dean’s college tuition didn't even get out of his sleek black sports car.

He rolled down the tinted window, tossed a small, heavy velvet box and a branded pack of ultra-thin condoms through the gap, and flicked a stack of bills onto the pavement.

"Room 402. Hand it to the guy at the door and get lost," Felix said, with his usual condescending tone before speeding off.

Felix picked the cash off the damp concrete, wiping off the grit, and rushed toward the Grand Regency.

The hotel lobby was a universe away from Dean’s world with marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and the faint, expensive scent of jasmine and leather.

Dean kept his head down, acutely aware of his scuffed sneakers and faded jeans as he rode the elevator to the fourth floor.

He found Room 402 and knocked sharply on the heavy mahogany door.

"Hold on!" a male voice shouted from inside.

A moment later, the door swung open.

Felix stood there, wearing a hotel robe hanging loosely off his shoulders with a smug, satisfied grin plastered across his face.

Dean blinked, startled. "Felix? I thought..."

"Oh, perfect. You actually made it fast," Felix chuckled, reaching out to snatch the package from Dean’s hand.

Before Dean could process why Felix had paid him to deliver something to a room he was already in, a woman’s voice called out softly from the king-sized bed behind him.

"Felix, babe, who is it? Did the room service get here?"

The world stopped and the blood in Dean’s ears began to roar, drowning out the hum of the hotel's air conditioning.

Maya Hanson stepped into view, wrapping a silk hotel robe around her shoulders. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks flushed. She caught sight of Dean standing in the doorway, and for a fraction of a second, her eyes widened in surprise.

Then, her expression hardened into cold indifference.

"Maya?" Dean’s voice cracked, the word barely a whisper. "What... what are you doing here? With him?”

Maya crossed her arms, leaning casually against the bedpost. She didn't look affected, nor did she look ashamed. She just looked bored.

"Isn't it obvious, Dean?" she asked, her tone entirely devoid of the warmth he had spent years falling in love with. "I’m here with Felix."

"We... we were supposed to go out tonight," Dean stammered, his mind wildly trying to reconcile the girl who held his hand on the bus with the woman standing in a five-thousand-dollar suite. "I saved up. I have enough for L'Étoile…"

Felix burst out laughing, a sharp, cruel sound that echoed down the hallway, one that made Dean’s heart twitch in anger.

"You saved up?” Felix mockingly asked. “What, Dean? You saved three hundred bucks over six months? Bro, the wine list alone at L'Étoile starts at a grand. You brought me my condoms so I could take care of your girl. That’s your place in the world."

Dean took a step forward, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white. "Maya, tell me this is a joke. Tell me he's forcing you."

Maya let out a bitter, mocking laugh. "Force me? Dean, wake up. I was with you for fun because you were sweet and desperate, but I'm tired of eating cheap fast food and riding the subway.”

Then she walked forward, raising her wrist, flashing a delicate diamond chain in his face. “Look at this. Felix bought me this bracelet yesterday. It costs more than you could ever make in a year. You can't give me the life I want. You're broke."

“I work three jobs for you!” Dean yelled, tears of anger burning his eyes. “I gave you everything I had!”

“And everything you have is still nothing,” Maya fired back coldly. “Now take your delivery f*e and leave. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“How could you do this to me, Maya?!” Dean demanded, his eyes bloodshot. “How could you?!”

“Because you're poor, get that into your thick skull, you bastard!” She snapped. “Because like every other girl, I want to buy Chanel dresses, LV bags, and Tiffany diamond rings. You couldn't give me any of that.”

Then she scoffed, saying, “Let me tell you this, Dean. I used to eat noodles, food from roadside stalls and banged-up fruit with you but with Felix, I've been eating and drinking top-notch stuff. You can't afford any of that so why should I spend my life with a penniless loser like you?”

Dean was left speechless, after all she wasn't wrong. He always knew Maya was money-loving and tried his best to satisfy her, but it was obvious now that she had been using him all along. He was just a game she had played, and he had fallen for it completely.

Maya clung to Felix’s arm like a kitten, whispering softly, “Dean, you're honestly no match for Felix, so why not go home?”

Felix grinned, pulling her close. “That’s right. Why don’t we show him how much we care about each other?”

Then they both kissed with her lipstick-smudged lips.

Dean stood frozen, his jaw set and his fists tight with helpless fury.

Once they were done, Felix tossed a single fifty-dollar bill at Dean’s feet. "Thanks for the delivery. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Then the door slammed shut, the heavy lock clicking into place.

Dean stood alone in the hallway, his heart burning with rage. He hated himself for being so stupid, so poor because if he had been rich, he would have fought back.

Unfortunately, he was nothing more than a broke, penniless student.

He looked down at the crumpled fifty-dollar bill resting on the carpet next to his worn sneakers, but he didn't pick it up.

A terrifying, suffocating feeling washed over him, not just heartbreak, but a profound, burning helplessness.

The world didn't care about devotion. It didn't care about love, effort, or loyalty.

The world only cared about power, and power was written in dollars.

Dean turned and walked away from Room 402.

As he stepped out of the hotel and into the pouring rain, the tears on his face were washed away, replaced by a rage that settled deep into his chest.