Isabella Vanceâs awakening was never interrupted by loud alarms, but by the gentle adjustment of the smart curtains that allowed the filtered light from the Upper Zone to bathe her room in a warm, golden glow.
Unlike Lohan, who woke up amid the smell of mold and the flickering light of a broken refrigerator in the darkness caused by the polluted, heavy clouds of the Lower Zone, Isabella opened her eyes surrounded by synthetic silk sheets that regulated her body temperature to what she found most pleasant.
As soon as she sat up, two servants silently entered the room, bringing heated towels and a selection of essential oils for her morning hygiene. As she went through the ritual of being pampered, Isabella felt a slight disappointment. With Evelyn once again absent to attend to Vance Group business, her routine was returning to normal, and that included breakfast prepared by her personal cook.
At the marble table on the veranda, overlooking the hanging gardens floating above the smog, Isabella savored an omelet made with fine herbs and fresh fruit harvested from one of the familyâs agricultural colonies.
As she ate, she consulted Synâs golden hologram, rereading Hayesâs teasing remarks about the "sensual massage" he had promised in Elysium. A small smile, one she rarely showed in public, lit up her face as she tried to find a way to get back at him.
"Lohan Hayes..." she murmured, recalling the full name sheâd heard the professor utter in class.
Determined not to be just the unattainable "Ice Queen" that day, she headed to her closet. Isabella chose a white silk ensemble that highlighted the impeccable symmetry of her body and the pearly whiteness of her skin. She spent a few extra minutes adjusting her makeup so it looked natural, yet accentuated the golden sparkle in her eyes.
Without her realizing it, a sense of anticipation arose in her mind... she knew she would be in the same room as her guild partner, and thinking about his reaction upon seeing her made her excited to go to class.
As she went down to the private garage, Isabella ignored the chauffeurs and opted for her own sports car.
A Ferrari Luceferro, the first car developed by the brand after the Vance Groupâs acquisition a few centuries ago.
Even though it was a car at least 200 years old, it was precisely because this car was a Classico that it had become Isabellaâs favorite.
The carâs yellow color further accentuated her red hair, while complementing the girlâs striking golden eyes.
The flying engine emitted an almost inaudible hum as she gained altitude, accelerating steadily until she disappeared over the horizon toward the college in the sky.
Unlike the tumultuous, exhausting, and smelly commute Lohan had to endure daily to get to college on the flying bus, Isabellaâs flight in the Ferrari was the complete opposite.
A peaceful, refreshing, and totally carefree journey unfolded behind the wheel.
As she parked in the section reserved for the elite, Isabella didnât even glance a second time at the car that drew envy even from the students of the Upper Zone; she took a deep breath of the campusâs purified, sweet air, adjusted the backpack made by a renowned designer on her shoulders, and walked with confidence and anticipation.
Wherever she passed, people stopped what they were doing to look, hoping she would look back at them, and that an exchange of glances might lead to a chance conversation.
But to these peopleâs disappointment, Isabella didnât look at anyone and walked straight to her classroom.
Upon entering the room, she was surprised to see that it was emptier than she remembered. Looking around expectantly, while trying to hide it so no one would notice, disappointment set in when she realized that the person she was looking for wasnât there.
Isabella sat down in her usual seat, maintaining her impeccable posture and the customary "Ice Queen" expression she always wore there. However, behind her golden eyes, there was a restlessness she rarely allowed to show. She opened her privacy hologram, pretending to read reports from the Vance Group, but her attention was focused on the motion sensor of the roomâs automatic door.
"Isabella, have you seen the new ethereal silk outfits that the Noctis Group posted on the Syn forum?" A girl from her social circle in the Upper Zone approached, leaning lightly on Isabellaâs table with a nervous, unnatural smile. "They say they cost at least $600,000 credits, but theyâre so beautiful... are you thinking of buying one for yourself?"
Isabella barely looked up from her golden screen, giving a nod so brief it bordered on disdain.
"Interesting, Chloe. But the cut looked poorly done to me; I suspect theyâre trying to cut costs even further by using the same production robots theyâve been using for 10 years." She replied without paying much attention, just so she wouldnât be considered completely rude.
But for Chloe, hearing Isabella respond in a seemingly interested way was already amazing, so she kept talking and trying to get Isabellaâs attention.
Every time the hissing sound of the door opening echoed through the lab, Isabella would glance up almost imperceptibly. One student entered, then another, but none were the one she was looking for.
Sarah, one of the girls who orbited Malcolmâs circle, noticed the restlessness and whispered to the side:
"Whatâs up with Isabella today? Sheâs acting like sheâs waiting for the President of the Federation himself. Sheâs looked at that door about ten times since she got here. Thatâs... weird."
With Sarahâs comment, the other students also noticed the strange way Isabella was acting, and grew curious.
It was when the door opened for the last time before the bell that Lohan Hayes entered the room.
Unlike the pale, stooped boy from weeks ago, he now walked with a lightness and firmness that indicated far superior body control, and far more confidence than they saw in any student from the Lower Zone.
However, he still wore the black hoodie under a black overcoat that he always wore, keeping a low profile so as not to attract the attention of Julian Neal or the others.
Lohan entered with complete indifference; his blue eyes didnât even wander over the elite group. He didnât look at Julian, nor at Malcolm, and certainly not at the spot where Isabella Vance was sitting. To him, that room was merely a necessary break between his grind sessions at Elysium.
He sat silently in his isolated seat in a corner row, pulled out his phone with the cracked screen, and began scrolling through the news feed about Elysium, completely oblivious to the world around him.
Isabella, who had spent minutes smoothing out her white silk ensemble and touching up her makeup to look radiant under the classroom lights, felt a pang of disappointment in her chest.
âHe didnât even look at me...â
Given the terrible experiences heâd had with people at this college, the last thing Lohan wanted was to risk making another enemy in this place.
Isabella bit her lower lip for a second, turning her attention back to her own screen, frustrated that he hadnât noticed the extra effort sheâd made that day, even though she knew that, to him, she was still just the untouchable Heiress of the Vance Group from the Upper Zone, and the friend of his that she knew she was.
But someone noticed this change in Isabellaâs attitude, and didnât like it one bit, glaring at Lohan with displeasure.