Welcome to ¼ of Paradiso 3

I’ve always had a major distaste for crowds, or just being in any place with too many people in general. And this? This right here wasn’t any exception.

The parking lot was crammed with various vehicles, including a news van with its crew already setting up equipment.

Media coverage...?

I’d really prefer not to get caught on camera. Not that anyone would care—but still, no thanks. With my luck, they’d probably catch me mid-yawn or picking my nose, and just like that, I’d be immortalized in the media as that guy.

Now, here I was, in the chaotic expanse of Lakeridge University’s campus, navigating my way through the mess toward the heart of the event while scanning for an open seat. Naturally, being last-minute meant options were nearly nonexistent. But by some miracle, a seat in the back row opened up just as I made my approach, and I calmly headed straight for it.

This spot was perfect. No need to squirm through a sea of people when it was time to leave, though I’d still have to awkwardly navigate past seated individuals, dodging shoes and bumping elbows along the way.

The seat beside me was empty, save for a bag resting neatly on it. The brand and design seemed familiar, and though I couldn’t be sure, I had a gut feeling I knew whose it was. Then again, this wasn’t exactly a rare bag. Could’ve been anyone’s.

I leaned back, closed my eyes, and let the static hum of the air settle in.

“Good morning. The ceremony will begin in one minute and forty-five seconds, with opening remarks from a special guest. I repeat—”

Probably the reason for the media coverage. A special guest could warrant attention.

As I relaxed, the seconds ticked away, and then I heard a long, annoyed sigh. I snapped my eyes open, suddenly worried I’d taken someone else’s seat. Leaving it unoccupied during such a packed event would be dumb.

Don’t tell me.

It didn’t take long to place the source of the sigh: the same girl from earlier, the one in the baseball cap. I mentally exhaled, irritated by my luck. Of course, I ended up next to her. But really, it wasn’t entirely my fault. We had arrived at roughly the same time, and the seats were practically gone.

“Ugh, it’s you again.”

I wasn’t sure if my presence bothered her, but I wasn’t going to apologize. This was one of the few available spots left, so we’d both just have to deal with it.

“I guess you could say so,” I muttered.

She glanced at me from the corner of her eye as she resettled into her seat.

Her perfume wafted through the air again, but it wasn’t overpowering—actually kind of pleasant. I breathed in deeper than usual, but then another thought popped up. I decided to go for it.

“What did you mean by someone being sent to observe you?” I asked, referring back to what she said earlier. The words had stuck with me.

“Didn’t I tell you to erase that from your memory?” She shot back immediately.

Not surprising.

I closed my eyes again and let out a slow exhale, before opening them once more.

Nope, nothing happened.

“You’re asking the impossible. I can’t just pick and choose what to forget. If I could, my life would be astronomically peaceful.”

“Should I lend you my assistance?” she offered, her tone flat, without a hint of hesitation.

Most people would’ve shown some empathy. But this stranger? She was different.

“I’d have to decline. If I had to guess, your method probably involves some form of physical violence?”

“Physical violence isn’t the only method in the world, you know,” she replied, unbothered.

Was she implying... psychological manipulation? That was a bit alarming.

She continued, unfazed, “Although, physical violence isn’t out of the question. It just depends on the intensity and purpose.”

“That sounds a bit ominous,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll stick with my original choice, thanks.”

“Is that so?”

“Unless you have a problem with that.”

“Why would I have a problem with someone’s personal choice, especially a stranger’s to boot?”

I smiled slightly.

“Well, if you wanted, we could both introduce ourselves to make this less awkward.”

“I’ll pass, thanks,” she said, cutting me off before I could extend a hand.

Before I could process the rejection, the announcement came through the speakers, and the ceremony kicked off.

“Thank you for your patience. We now begin the welcoming ceremony. Please welcome our first special guest, who will be delivering the opening remarks.”

Silver hair slicked back, a sharply pressed suit—this guy looked like he meant business. The crowd’s attention shifted toward him, and beside me, I could feel the girl’s gaze narrow.

“This can’t be happening right now,” She muttered loudly under her breath, probably unaware I heard her.

The man confidently approached the microphone, scanning the room before locking eyes with someone in the crowd—no, with the person beside me—before starting his speech.

“Good morning. My name is Victor Bellefontaine, and it’s a pleasure to address all of you incoming students—at the request of your stakeholders. It’s an honor to do so.”

I kept my attention on him.

Bellefontaine. I’d heard the name before—one of Paradiso’s founding families. But this was the first time I’d ever put a face to it. Honestly? Couldn’t care less about such irrelevant information.

“So, I ask that you please take good care of my daughter, Ophelia Bellefontaine, who will be joining the student body as of today,” Mr. Bellefontaine continued, his eyes never once straying from the girl seated next to me. That was all it took. The murmurs were immediate, and I watched a dozen heads snap in our direction—the spark of recognition spreading like wildfire.

I gave a quick side-eye, just to gauge her current reaction.

“I refuse to believe this is happening,” Ophelia muttered, lowering the bill of her cap as she sank further into the seat. But it was too late—people had already started to take note of her.

Victor Bellefontaine smiled as he basked in the growing attention.

Meanwhile, Ophelia? She shot him a glare that could cut glass.

“Now, back to the speech, shall we?” he said smoothly, taking the crowd’s attention back.

So father and daughter, huh?

******

The first half of the ceremony wrapped up, and the crowd began to rise for a brief intermission. Ophelia stood up gracefully as a human frame made its approach from behind.

Given the seating arrangement—at the very back of the room—someone could easily slip in without being noticed. And sure enough, Ophelia picked up on this immediately. Well, not like this person had attempted to be stealthy.

Her eyes narrowed for a second.

“Now is not a good time, Enzo.”

Despite the biting tone, there was a familiarity there.

Enzo, a well-built man in a sharp suit, removed his hat before speaking with a respectful tone. The streaks of gray in his hair gave away his age.

“Good morning, Miss Bellefontaine. I’m glad to see you’re doing well. Mr. Bellefontaine has requested your presence. Please refrain from causing a scene.”

His words were polite, but firm.

“Tch. I really don’t want to see him right now,” Ophelia snapped, irritation radiating off her as she turned to walk away. Enzo stepped cleanly into her path, his eyes briefly flicking toward me.

“Unfortunately, this is a request from Mr. Bellefontaine. You’ll have to come with me, or take a seat. Your choice, of course.”

Ophelia exhaled loudly in frustration but reluctantly complied, following him in the direction of her father.

If she had chosen the latter, they would’ve asked me and everyone nearby to leave anyway.