Before last night's partiers made it out of bed, Blake attended several classes, took copious notes, and added to her rapidly growing workload. Even though the semester just started, the professors seemed intent on ramping up quickly and putting any idea of 'break' behind them.

Thankfully, she was only slightly tired from the night before, and that was probably from her capstone research rather than the effort of going out. Most of her classmates looked equally eager to get back to work, but a few seemed ill-prepared for the morning's rigors. Those students were easy to pick out from the bags under their eyes and their drooping postures. None of them were in the top half of the class, so it was no wonder why they felt assured in drinking the night away.

Sun was probably in the same boat, but Blake would find out when they met for lunch. His door had been shut when she left in the morning. She hadn't heard him come back last night either, so he must have returned when she was already fast asleep. At least he had the decency to be quiet when he came home late, but she didn't understand how he functioned on so little sleep.

Personally, she was an early riser. She liked waking up early and getting all of her classes and errands done as quickly as possible. As she left her last class of the day, however, she realized her mentality didn't extend to the rest of campus.

It was nearly midday, but campus had yet to lose its sleepy, subdued atmosphere. More students were awake now, which was nice to see, but many didn't look prepared to be back at school. The dark circles under their eyes and cups of coffee in their hands suggested a late night, leaving Blake to wonder who amongst them attended the same party as her.

She hadn't stayed long, but it had been quite the experience - just like the previous parties Sun dragged her to. Something about the combination of young adults and alcohol created a unique setting where social dynamics grew more pronounced and less...moderated. Those dynamics interested her; they were the focus of her studies and, hopefully, the focus of her future career.

In reality, she could only stand so much of that experience before calling it a day, and she was glad she left when she did. As far as she was concerned, no social gathering was worth the miserable morning some of these people appeared to be having. Now, to find out what type of morning Sun was having…

Walking along wide paths, avoiding the occasional bicyclist or skateboarder, she made her way towards the center of campus to meet Sun for lunch. Or, in his case, breakfast.

One of the school's most popular eateries, aptly called The Patio, sat between the busiest and most heavily used classroom buildings, making it a convenient and central place to stop. With a large outdoor seating area, a variety of pre-packaged salads and sandwiches, and good prices, it was Blake's go-to whenever she wanted a quick bite to eat without heading all the way home between classes.

It was basically everyone's go-to when they wanted a quick bite or a chance to catch up with friends. The patio, in particular, was a great place to sit and chat or fit in a last-minute study session before rushing to class. Plus, Blake loved their tuna fish sandwiches.

When The Patio came into view, she confirmed Sun wasn't there yet and headed inside to order. She wasn't surprised that he was late - his ability to arrive on time had a direct and inverse relationship to how much sleep he got the night before. Seeing as how he probably got little to no sleep last night, she would be lucky if he showed up at all. He hadn't texted that he couldn't make it, so she ordered a peanut butter and banana sandwich for him. Personally, the sandwich was moderately inedible, but he insisted it was the best hangover cure out there. And if he somehow escaped a hangover this morning, she would eat the entire thing herself.

After picking up their sandwiches and walking outside, she smiled upon spotting her roommate slouched at one of the tables near the walkway. Based on his posture and the dark sunglasses he wore on an overcast day, she wasn't eating any disgusting sandwich today.

"Good morning," she said, setting his sandwich in front of him before sitting on the other side of the table.

"Shh…" He raised one hand to shush her. "Quiet, please."

"Oh now you want quiet," she replied in a softer voice. "Surprised you can hear at all after last night."

"You get used to it."

"I think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself." After taking a long drink from the water bottle he brought with him, he sighed and set it back on the table. "Means more girls for me."

When he winked, she laughed but quickly quieted down when he flinched at the sound.

"Sorry," she whispered, still smiling. He must feel miserable, but at least he felt good enough to make jokes. "How'd it go with that girl?" she asked, giving him a look before unwrapping her sandwich.

"What girl?"

"The one you ditched me for."

"Oh, her." When Sun waved his hand, Blake tilted her head. "She, uh, went home early."

"Uh huh…"

"I ran into some buddies of mine though!" he added before she pried. "We ended up in a drinking competition with half the football team. Man, those guys can hold their liquor…"

This time, Blake kept her laughter to a quieter level so as not to hurt his pounding head. That explained his plight though, and he probably wouldn't feel great for the rest of the day if he drank that much.

"Did you win?" she asked when he didn't provide the answer.

"It's hard to say…" he mused before focusing on her with much more intensity - or as much intensity as a hungover college student was capable of. "Where did you sneak off to last night? I looked for you, I think."

"You think?"

"Eh, I can't remember." He waved his hand again before motioning for an answer. "But come on, what'd you get up to? Did you have fun?"

His expectant, hopeful expression made her feel guilty for going home instead of participating in the party like he'd requested. She hadn't thought much of it at the time but, for whatever reason, this seemed important to him.

If she thought about it from his point of view...he was trying to get her out of her shell and have a 'real' college experience before they graduated. Rather than make an effort, she went home like she always did - because she had her project to work on, her classes to prepare for, and a host of other excuses. Putting those responsibilities on hold for one night felt like too much, especially when the end was near.

She should have tried a little harder. Now, she felt bad for her lack of effort. But she could try to make it up to him, in a way.

His interest in her 'social life' seemed to have temporarily distracted him from what must be a raging headache. As much as he deserved the headache for his poor decisions, he was still her friend and she didn't always enjoy seeing him suffer.

"Nothing to tell there," she said while shrugging and looking at her food. If she knew him at all, the nonchalant response would prompt him to fill in the blanks with whatever wild and crazy shenanigans he could imagine. Hopefully, that distracted him even more from his hangover.

"Nothing?" he repeated, studying her with narrowed eyes.

"Nothing."

When she smiled and took a bite of her sandwich, his eyes widened. He even took off his sunglasses to fully display his surprise.

"There is! You've got something to tell!" When she rolled her eyes and shook her head, he nodded - emphatically at first before touching his temple and ceasing the motion. "What is it?" he added regardless. "You have to tell me!"

"There's nothing to tell," she reiterated, but couldn't help smiling at his excitement. She didn't know why he was always so adamant about her talking to people - he did enough talking for the both of them.

"Nothing?" he repeated, watching her calmly eat her sandwich and try not to laugh at how interested he was.

"Maybe it's a secret," she teased, knowing it would goad him on even more but enjoying his excitement. From the way he opened his mouth, he wanted to argue that they didn't keep secrets from one another, but he also knew that he had some secrets he did not want her knowing. Secrets that she already knew enough about to know exactly what to ask if he went that route.

Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he sat straight up in his seat.

"Oh my god. You hooked up!"

"Sun," she said with a shake of her head, wondering how he jumped to that conclusion.

"You did! You totally hooked up!"

He was shouting now, so she leaned over and shushed him.

"But you did, right?" he continued in a quieter voice. "You did? Oh my god, I'm so proud of you!" Before she pointed out how incorrect that assumption was, he rushed around the table and hugged her. "Never thought I'd see the day! Blake Belladonna...all grown up and hooking up with people."

"Please stop saying that," she said while pushing him away. But she stopped short of raining on his parade. He looked so happy, she let him enjoy the moment for a little longer. Although she didn't understand why it made him so happy - what benefit did he gain from her 'hooking up' with someone?

Regardless, he was entertained, and she felt absolved of leaving the party without talking to a single soul. Assuming their conversation would return to a typical lunch, she continued eating her sandwich and waited for the next topic. Sun always had a backlog of random subjects to talk about, after all. Instead, she took a bite and noticed him staring at her.

"What?" she asked, and he immediately motioned with both hands.

"So...?"

"So...what?"

"So who was it?" he blurted out before leaning closer and sneaking a look at the students around them. "Do I know them? Him? Her?"

When she gave him a deadpan look, he grinned like a cat and clasped his hands together. "Please tell me! This is the best news I've gotten all year."

"Seriously?" She couldn't believe that was true, but he nodded as if it was.

"Yes! Especially with how last night went."

"What happened with that girl?" she asked again, hoping to change the subject now that he'd forgotten his headache.

"Long story short, I ended up wearing the drink I got her." When Blake cringed, Sun shrugged as if that wasn't a bad thing. "She just didn't get my humor, I guess - but don't distract me! Tell me who it was!"

"Sun…"

"Did you not get their name?" The question made Sun particularly giddy, and he laughed before leaning even further forward. "Then describe them! Blonde or brunette?"

Sighing at the endless questions, which probably wouldn't stop anytime soon, Blake waved her hand and arbitrarily picked, "Blonde."

"Blonde?" Sitting back, he mouthed the word to himself several more times before his eyes lit up. "No freaking way. No freaking way. Did you hook up with Yang Xiao Long?"

The guess was so ludicrous, Blake actually laughed.

"Right…" she replied with a roll of her eyes. "I hooked up with Yang Xiao Long, the most popular girl in school and a literal supermodel. We actually had a lot to talk about seeing as how we have nothing in common."

She thought Sun would get it then, but he failed to catch her blatant sarcasm.

"I can't believe it!" he exclaimed before lightly slapping her arm. "Look at you! Damn. When you set out to hook out, you aim big, huh?"

When he winked, she rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair.

"You have to teach me your tricks," he added, making her laugh and shake her head. "Seriously!" he pressed. "You landed Yang Xiao Long. I have to know how you did it."

At first, Blake didn't think he was seriously asking. When he waited for a response, however, she sighed and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Uh, ok, you walk up to her and say 'hey, want to hook up?'"

After waiting on bated breath for what came next only to realize that was all she had to say, he sat back and stared at her like she had two heads.

"Are you serious? That's what you did?"

"Of course not! What kind of person does that?" She shook her head at him for believing she would do something so forward, but he just shrugged.

"Well I dunno...the kind of person who gets Yang freaking Xiao Long, that's who!"

Again, he grinned and reached across to pat her shoulder, ecstatic at her 'success.' He clearly felt better, but she couldn't tell if this was actually worse than just being honest and telling him that she bailed and went to sleep early.

"Don't make a big deal of it, please," she said in an effort to bring them one step closer to him forgetting all about it.

"Ok, ok." He raised his hands and leaned away. "I get it - you're embarrassed. I'll drop it."

She nearly asked why she should be embarrassed about something he told her to do but shook her head and let it go instead.

"No, I can't drop it!" he blurted out seconds later. "This is huge! Bigger than huge - it's...it's…"

"Giant?" she offered, and he snapped his fingers.

"Yes! It's giant!"

"She's just a person -"

"She's one of the hottest people on the planet, Blake. And you -" Abruptly pausing, he looked at her with wide eyes. "You have to tell me how it was!"

"Ew - pass."

"Come on - I know it's like, a guy thing - but we're friends, right? And I'm never getting with her so like...you have to tell me!"

"I'm pretty sure that's a breach of privacy or something," she said before taking another bite of her sandwich so she had an excuse not to talk.

"It's not a breach of privacy!" Sun exclaimed before giving her a confused look. "Wait, is it? Girls don't like that type of thing?"

In the midst of finishing her sandwich, Blake merely gave him a look for the questions and let him fill in the answers.

"I mean, girls talk about guys all the time too," he said, mostly to himself, before looking at the nearby buildings crowded with incoming students. "I guess, sometimes I mind and sometimes I don't, depends on what they say…"

While he puzzled through that conundrum, Blake finished her sandwich and balled up the trash.

"Oh, look!" Sun hastily tapped her shoulder before nodding off to her right. "Your hook-up buddy!"

"That's not dropping it."

"I can't drop it if she's right there."

When Sun literally pointed, Blake glared at him before turning that way and quickly spotting Yang. Not that she was difficult to spot, even in a crowd of students heading to and from class.

Yang didn't look nearly as bad as Sun, but she clearly had a similar night and similar morning filled with similar repercussions. Of course, she still looked amazing, and spared a smile and wave for someone walking out of the building before drinking from the bottle of water in her hands.

"Ugh...she makes drinking water look so sexy," Sun breathed out while Yang re-capped her bottle and exchanged a few words with the girl standing beside her - the same auburn-haired sorority girl from last night.

Blake wanted to disagree with Sun's comment on principle, but he was right. The way Yang dressed or held herself made everything she did look composed and appealing in a way the rest of them could never manage. Whether it was her experience as a model or just her innate glamour, anyone who met her could tell she was different. That, and she looked drop-dead gorgeous even though her outfit consisted of a pair of jeans, a nice top, and boots.

"Why don't you go talk to her?" Sun asked in a loud whisper, making Blake scoff and turn away from Yang.

"Because she's busy."

"She's always busy," he argued, only to give up the idea when Yang walked into the building with her friend. Sighing at the 'missed opportunity,' he turned back to Blake. "Her social calendar is like ten of mine stacked on top of each other."

"Really?"

"Uh, yeah."

When Sun looked at her as if she should have known that, she shook her head and watched the last wave of students hurry towards the buildings so they weren't late to class. Sun often forgot that she didn't follow the social scene like he did. Besides, why would she waste time listening to gossip when he gave her the unsolicited summaries?

"I heard the sororities are constantly recruiting her," he continued when Blake remained silent for more than two consecutive seconds. "They want her fame to boost their houses."

"That sounds…"

"Awesome?" he asked when Blake trailed off, looking much more alive now that they were gossiping. "I think so too! Having all those sorority girls begging you to join them…"

While he fantasized about being wooed by hundreds of sorority girls, Blake frowned and looked at the door the two girls had disappeared through. He thought it was heaven - to Blake, it sounded sad to be used like that.

How could anyone know who really liked them if everyone pandered for popularity? What must it feel like to be invited to events only because you're popular, not necessarily because the inviter enjoys your company? Who could you count on as friends if everyone wanted something from you?

That was the price of fame. It wasn't a price Blake would ever want to pay, but she also wasn't in the position to become famous either. There had to be benefits offsetting those drawbacks. Otherwise, why would anyone ever do it?

After glancing at her phone, she put it in her bag and collected her trash.

"Alright Sun, I'm heading out."

"Me too!" After wrapping up the remainder of his sandwich and sticking it in his bag, he stood up and gave her another hug. "And thanks for making my year! I'll get those details out of you eventually!"

When she shook her head, he laughed and hurried off to class. She headed in the opposite direction, tossing her trash into a garbage can as she went. Honestly, she was surprised he remembered their conversation for that long, but he would forget in a day or two. Then they could move on with their lives and forget all about the party. That was her plan at least, starting right now.

Her classes were done for the day, but that didn't mean her work was over. Before she went home, she had a meeting with her student advisor, who also happened to be the dean of the entire social sciences department.

Walking into the social sciences building, which had become a second home to her over the years, she tried to ignore the budding nerves in her chest. Unfortunately, she had to admit that Dean Caldwell intimidated her. He was intelligent, articulate, and influential - the last of those traits being the reason the school had such a prestigious name within the social justice community. His network allowed the sociology program to offer a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to one student each year - a guaranteed internship at The Peace Center upon graduation.

The price? Four years of incredibly hard work, endless studying, and fierce competition with some of the brightest minds out there. Blake was more than willing to pay the price because she knew the end result was worth it. Otherwise...it wasn't exactly easy.

Passing through the lobby, where an assortment of sofas and tables sat unoccupied at the moment, she made her way to the fourth floor and to the far-most office on that level. Dean Caldwell's office was the only one with a separate waiting area, fitting his status perfectly - a large, lavishly decorated space highlighted by portraits and magazines celebrating his accomplishments. And, as usual, several students already occupied the seats outside his door while waiting for their scheduled appointments.

While Blake recognized all of them - knew their names, strongest subjects, and class rankings - she gave them no more than a cursory nod before taking an available seat as far from them as possible. They may be peers and classmates, but they were, first and foremost, competitors.

If Sun wanted a reason why Blake took school more seriously than most, he needed to look no further than the strained, uncomfortable atmosphere in the room. From her understanding, students in other majors weren't so icy to their classmates. They didn't search for weaknesses or celebrate someone else's poor grades, but that wasn't at all how her major worked. Too much was on the line, and there was too great of a reward on the horizon.

They all wanted her to fail, which they said behind her back and to her face, but she hadn't. And, with just one semester left, their moods had grown even more sour. Their hopes now hinged on a catastrophe, a monumental breakdown that tanked her last semester's grades and destroyed the most important piece of their four-year interview - the capstone report.

Unfortunately for them, she had no plans on failing. She also planned on having the best capstone of all of them. Once she picked a topic…

The office door opened then, admitting a fellow student into the lobby while Dean Caldwell stopped in the doorway.

"Blake," he said, motioning her into the office before walking inside without another word.

Taking the invitation, she stood and followed, feeling everyone's eyes boring into her back as she left them in the waiting area. After closing the door behind her, she sat in one of the seats in front of the giant, wooden desk taking up a good portion of the room.

"How're you doing?" Mr. Caldwell asked, not looking up at her while straightening a stack of papers and setting them off to the side of his desk.

"Good. Excited for the semester to start."

"As you should be." Finished clearing off the space in front of him, he set his hands down and finally looked at her. "How was break? Did you stay here?"

"I did. It was nice. Relaxing."

"And gave you time to think of your capstone?"

As usual, there was very little banter with him. A couple pleasantries then straight to business.

"Yes," she answered with a nod, her nerves increasing at the questions coming next.

"And?" he prodded, giving her a small wave to explain. "Have you chosen a topic?"

"I have a few options I'm mulling over, but nothing set in stone yet."

"Those are?"

The way he tapped his fingers and stared at her over them made her anxious, but he did this to everyone. The two of them were on good terms due to her class ranking, so their interactions were probably 'friendlier' than what anyone else received. Still...to say he was intimidating was an understatement.

"One idea is to explore how media affects worldview," she answered, watching him closely for clues as to how he felt about the topic. "Study what people watch and how that corresponds to their core beliefs."

"Culturally relevant," he replied with a slightly dismissive wave.

"Exactly." His response wasn't as positive as she would have liked, but she continued as if that didn't phase her. "Another would be analyzing stereotypes across generations with a goal of finding a pattern of emergence or disappearance across age lines."

"Interesting..." he mused, though his tone suggested only partially so. "Any others?"

Having already presented her top two choices, she scrambled for her third-best choice in hopes it proved to be a winner.

"Yes," she replied while shifting in her seat. "Although this is more of a fragment than anything else - a study on evolving family structure."

"Ah." Mr. Caldwell smiled and laughed lightly. "The 'personal' choice."

Blake didn't see how that was a personal choice when everyone had a family and family history, but she said nothing and waited for him to offer any other feedback.

"Well," he continued, wearing a thoughtful expression while leaning back in his chair. "It sounds like you're on the right track. Solid, classic ideas."

She nearly winced at the word 'classic' but smiled instead.

"Thank you, Sir."

"All you need to do now is decide which one speaks to you more. And remember - your grades are important, but this report is the most important part of proving yourself to The Peace Center. It needs to be interesting and thought-provoking - not only to you but to a group of professionals who've been in this field for a long time. They want to see who you are through this paper. What makes you worthy of a position so many others want?"

For a second, Blake thought she was actually supposed to answer the question, which she could by rattling through her qualifications, volunteer work, and test scores. Fortunately, he nodded to himself, as if particularly pleased with that bit of advice, before standing and expecting her to do the same.

"Keep me informed on your progress," he added while escorting her to the door. "I'll expect a final decision on your topic in the next few days."

"Of course, Dean Caldwell."

When he opened the door and motioned her through, she held her head high and left the office without acknowledging her classmates. The last thing she wanted was for them to know her struggles finding a decent topic. If any of them found out, they would put aside their differences for a day in order to gossip about her 'unfortunate' plight, and that would only fan the flames of rumor that she would fail the capstone.

She already worried she would fail, and Dean Caldwell's reactions had done nothing to ease those concerns. Foolishly, she'd hoped he would provide some direction or suggestions, but she should have known better. As a dean and professor, he was as hands-off as they came. He expected self-sufficiency on an almost unrealistic level, especially considering his students weren't professionals yet and many of them would never be.

Without his guidance, she would have to figure this out on her own. Unfortunately, she felt the same about her topics as he did - a big, fat, 'meh.' None of them were particularly interesting to her, a disadvantage she didn't want or need. If she found an interesting topic, the entire report would be fun. If it was fun, the end result would be that much more enjoyable for everyone who read it.

The pressure didn't help...but, if she didn't find something that struck her fancy in the next few days, she would just pick one and move on with it. Until then, she would keep reading past capstones and search for any possible inspiration.

Leaving the social sciences building behind, she was so caught up in her thoughts that she accidentally bumped into someone hurrying past.

"Oh, excuse me," she apologized on instinct, only to look up and find herself face-to-face with the sorority girl last seen glued to Yang Xiao Long's side.

"Yes, excuse you," the girl quipped before walking away.

The half-second interaction left Blake with a scrunched nose and overwhelming distaste in her mouth. When she turned around to figure out what the girl was in such a rush for, who else did she find but Yang.

As usual, Yang was hard to miss. Something about her was magnetic. Whether it was her bright hair, vivid eyes, or welcoming smile, she drew attention with little effort.

Right now, she sat at a table in the courtyard surrounded by a group of beautiful, well-dressed girls. While most of the group talked amongst themselves, she said something to the girl sitting next to her before bursting into laughter. Her laugh, which drifted to Blake's ears, had an uplifting quality that made Blake want to smile right along with her.

Then the auburn-haired joined the group, much to the excitement of the other girls, who greeted her with smiles. Without a word of instruction, several of them scooted over so she could sit across from Yang - apparently, a privilege she'd earned through status or rank. Their conversations resumed, and Blake shook her head before leaving them behind.

As a group, they were unapproachable. Too pretty, too rich, too catty for any attempt at conversation. Maybe on their own they were easier to talk to, but that was the problem - they were hardly ever on their own. They traveled in a group nearly all of the time.

Their reasons for sticking so close together were curious. Subconsciously, they must know that their behavior prevented others from trying to join them, but maybe that was their intention. Maybe they were so insecure about their standing within the group that they bunched together in hopes of preserving their social status. Like herd mentality, only with the goal of protecting popularity rather than life and limb.

Blake had never had a group of friends like that, so she couldn't really understand. To her, a handful of close friends was more than enough. No one needed to be 'better' than anyone else. No one needed to be ranked higher or lower than anyone else. Maybe she considered some of them to be closer friends than others but, in a group, they were equals.

Just like the party last night, she didn't necessarily understand it. But she had more important things to do than analyze the lives of sorority girls and their resident supermodel - like figuring out what she was going to do for her project. That goal meant she had to go home, where a stack of previous capstones and, hopefully, a genius idea awaited her.