Later that day, the campus was buzzing with anticipation as the first official assembly of the semester was about to begin. Kim had heard the whispers around campus: it was a spectacle, an event where the students were supposed to learn about the university’s plans for the year and, most importantly, where the powerful students got to flaunt their wealth and privilege.
Kim and Seo-joon made their way to the grand hall, a place that looked more like a high-end conference center than a university building. The entrance was adorned with golden pillars, and the floor gleamed with polished marble. Students moved in a steady stream, some talking excitedly among themselves, others looking detached, as if they already knew how things worked at the university.
The hall was divided into two sections. The VIP area, reserved for the rich and influential students, was at the front, where the best seats were lined with plush velvet chairs. The rest of the students, those on scholarships or from families without the same level of wealth, were relegated to the back, where hard, uncomfortable chairs lined the walls. It was a stark reminder of the separation that existed, of how the wealthier students were treated like royalty while the rest were expected to sit and quietly observe.
Kim’s stomach churned as he looked at the seating arrangement. It was impossible to ignore the message it sent: the rich were at the top, and everyone else was beneath them. He could feel the weight of it pressing down on him. He and Seo-joon were ushered toward the back, where the other scholarship students sat, heads lowered, silently accepting their place in the hierarchy.
As they made their way through the room, Kim couldn’t help but notice how the rich students moved through the hall. They didn’t walk—they glided. Each one seemed to carry an air of superiority, their designer clothing and expensive accessories making it clear they belonged to another world. Kim could almost hear the whispers of envy and awe that followed them as they passed by the scholarship students.
Seo-joon, sensing Kim’s discomfort, leaned in and whispered, “Don’t let them get to you. We’re here for the same reason they are—to learn. They might have money, but they don’t have everything.”
Kim nodded but couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. He had worked so hard to get here, but now that he was on the campus, he couldn’t help but feel like an outsider in a world he wasn’t meant to be a part of.
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As the assembly began, the chancellor walked up to the stage, his voice booming through the speakers. “Welcome, students, to a new year at the university. This is a place of excellence, of opportunity, and of growth. We hope you will all take full advantage of the resources available to you.”
Kim’s attention wandered as the chancellor continued with his speech, talking about the future of the university and its efforts to provide a top-tier education. But Kim’s focus wasn’t on the promises or the platitudes—it was on the glaring disparity that surrounded him.
The rich students at the front barely listened, their eyes glued to their phones or engaged in private conversations. It was clear they had already made up their minds about how the year would unfold—they would continue to dominate, as they always had.
And then, amidst the speeches and the grand promises, something changed.
Han Jae-hyun, who had been sitting in the front row with a group of his friends, caught Kim’s eye. For a moment, their gazes locked, and Kim saw a flash of something in Han’s eyes—something calculating, almost as if he were sizing Kim up, as if this was all a game to him.
Kim’s heart raced. It was as if Han knew exactly what he was thinking. But then, just as quickly, the moment passed, and Han turned away, his attention back on the chancellor.
Kim’s mind began to race again. How could he survive in this world of privilege and power? How could he climb the ladder when every step seemed to be against him? He had already come so far, but there was so much more to go. The temptation to give in, to let the divide between the rich and the poor dictate his future, was strong.
But he wouldn’t let it happen.
As the assembly continued, Kim sat silently, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The university, with all its grandeur and promise, was built on a foundation of inequality. The rich would always have an advantage, but that didn’t mean Kim had to accept it. He could play the game, too. Maybe it wasn’t about fighting against the system—maybe it was about working with it, using it to his advantage.
And as he sat there, watching the wealthy students laugh and chat among themselves, something inside him hardened. He wasn’t going to let them win.
The divide was real. But it wasn’t unbreakable. And Kim was determined to find a way to bridge it—no matter the cost.
As the assembly came to a close and the students began filing out, Kim stood up with a renewed sense of purpose. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, that he would face more challenges and obstacles, but he was ready.
This was just the beginning.