FINANCIAL PRESSURE

Marcus stared at his organic chemistry textbook, but the molecular diagrams kept shifting in his mind, transforming from hydrocarbon chains into ink formulations. Instead of studying saponification reactions, he found himself calculating the optimal mixture of soot, tree resin, and oil that would create a printing ink viscous enough to transfer cleanly but thin enough to spread evenly.

"Focus," he muttered to himself, forcing his attention back to the page. Dr. Martinez's first progress check was tomorrow, and he needed to demonstrate mastery of three chapters' worth of material.

But within minutes, his mind wandered again. How would he bind the ink particles? Medieval scribes used gum arabic, but that might be too expensive in Drakmoor. Maybe tree sap from local species? He could ask Sara about her father's millwright experience. She might know which trees produced the most useful saps.

His phone buzzed with a text from Jake: "Study group in 20 minutes. Common room. Bring molecular model kit."

Marcus realized he'd been sitting with the same page open for forty-five minutes without absorbing anything. This was exactly the kind of distraction that had gotten him into academic trouble in the first place.

He tried again, focusing on a practice problem about reaction mechanisms. But as he worked through the steps, he found himself thinking about how these same chemical principles could improve his soap formulations. The superfat percentages he'd been experimenting with were controlled incomplete reactions, leaving beneficial oils unsaponified...

His phone rang, interrupting the thought. "Dad" appeared on the screen.

"Hey, Marcus," his father's familiar voice came through. "How's school going? Your mother mentioned you've been having some struggles this semester."

Marcus felt a familiar knot of guilt in his stomach. "It's... complicated, Dad. I hit some rough patches, but I'm working with professors to get back on track."

"What kind of rough patches? Problems with roommates? Money issues? Social adjustment?"

"Academic focus problems," Marcus admitted. "I got distracted by... other interests. Entrepreneurship stuff. I lost sight of my academic priorities."

There was a pause, and Marcus could almost hear his father thinking. David Chen had always been the more flexible parent, the one who encouraged Marcus to explore different paths rather than following rigid expectations.

"Marcus, you know your mother and I immigrated here so you could have opportunities we never had. Educational opportunities, career choices, the freedom to build whatever life you want."

"I know, Dad. I'm not taking it for granted..."

"Let me finish," his father interrupted gently. "What I'm saying is that 'whatever life you want' includes the freedom to choose a different path if that's what makes sense for you. Your mother has specific ideas about success. Doctor, lawyer, engineer. But I've always believed that success means finding something you're passionate about and becoming excellent at it."

Marcus felt unexpected relief at his father's words. "So you're not angry about the academic problems?"

"I'm concerned. There's a difference. I want to understand what's happening and help you figure out the best way forward." His father paused. "This entrepreneurship stuff. Is it serious? Do you think it might be a real career path for you?"

Marcus thought about his printing press prototype, his soap business partnership, the innovations he was developing that could transform commerce in an entire kingdom. "I think it might be. I seem to have a talent for seeing business opportunities and figuring out creative solutions to practical problems."

"Then maybe we need to have a serious conversation about whether pre-med is the right path. Not now, over the phone, but when you come home for winter break. Your mother might need time to adjust to the idea, but we both want you to be happy and successful in whatever you choose to do."

After the call ended, Marcus felt emotionally lighter but intellectually more conflicted. His father's support for alternative career paths made his academic struggles feel less catastrophic, but it also made his commitment to Dr. Martinez feel less essential. If he wasn't going to medical school anyway, why was he forcing himself through chemistry courses he found boring?

But he'd made a promise to Dr. Martinez, and more importantly, he'd made a commitment to proving he could follow through on his obligations. Even if he changed career paths, he needed to demonstrate that he could finish what he started.

Marcus checked his schedule and realized he had lab in thirty minutes. Despite his wandering mind, he gathered his materials and headed to the chemistry building. At least in lab, the hands-on work might help him focus better than reading textbooks.

The lab session went surprisingly well. Working with actual chemicals and equipment felt more concrete than theoretical problems, and Marcus found himself genuinely engaged with the synthesis experiment. His lab partner even complimented his technique, noting how steady his hands were during the delicate measurements.

"You seem like you've done this before," she observed as Marcus carefully titrated their solution.

"Just lots of practice with... cooking," Marcus replied, thinking of his soap-making experiments in both worlds.

When he returned to the dorm, Tyler was already there, streaming a strategy game to his modest but growing audience.

"How'd the lab go?" Tyler asked during a loading screen, not looking away from his monitor.

"Better than I expected."

"Good, because Jake was worried you were gonna spiral into complete academic failure." Tyler paused his stream and turned around. "Speaking of which, I've been noticing some weird stuff about you lately."

Marcus felt his heart rate increase. "Weird how?"

"Your sleep patterns are completely erratic. Sometimes you sleep for twelve hours straight, sometimes you're awake for like thirty-six hours and then crash for four. And you mutter in your sleep in what sounds like a foreign language."

"A foreign language?"

"Not Spanish or anything normal. Something older sounding, like medieval or something." Tyler studied Marcus with his analytical gamer expression. "Plus, I checked the wifi analytics, and you've been researching medieval printing technology, ink recipes, and historical crafting methods. What's that about?"

Marcus realized he'd been less careful than he thought. "It's... a hobby. Historical recreation stuff. I find it relaxing."

"More relaxing than passing your classes?"

"I went to lab today," Marcus pointed out.

"True. But dude, your browser history looks like you're trying to time travel to the Renaissance. Are you working on some kind of project? Because if you are, that's pretty cool. I could help you document it, maybe make some content about historical accuracy in games."

Tyler paused, then added, "Actually, if you're into that medieval stuff, you should join the school's D&D club. They meet Wednesday nights in the student union. They're always looking for people who know about historical stuff."

Marcus's mind immediately jumped to possibilities. A D&D club couldn't have insights about commerce and logistics that could apply to his Valdris business ventures.

"I'll look into that D&D club," Marcus said.

"Cool. But the sleep thing is still weird. Are you dealing with stress or something? Because there are campus resources if you need help."

"Just adjusting to college life, I think. The schedule's been tough."

Tyler nodded and turned back to his stream. "Fair enough. But seriously, if you need anything, just ask. I know I'm usually focused on my content, but I do care about whether my roommate is losing his mind."

"Thanks, Tyler. I appreciate that."

After Tyler resumed his stream, Marcus sat at his desk with his chemistry homework. The successful lab session had given him some confidence, but his mind kept drifting to ink formulations and printing press mechanics. He needed to solve those problems soon, but at least today he'd proven he could still function in his real-world responsibilities when he put his mind to it.

Marcus opened his textbook and managed to complete several problem sets before his thoughts returned to Valdris. Tomorrow's progress check with Dr. Martinez might go better than expected, but the bigger challenge was maintaining this balance between his two increasingly demanding lives.

As he finally fell asleep that night, Marcus felt cautiously optimistic about his ability to manage both worlds. Though he suspected that optimism might be premature.