Leon remembered the day Iris stopped visiting.

  He'd been 10, waiting by the window like he did every Saturday. She was supposed to come at noon. By three, she still hadn't arrived. His grandfather found him there, still watching the empty driveway.

  "She's not coming today, Leon."

  "But she said—"

  "She has business to attend to. Important business."

  Even then, Leon hadn't fully understood. Business? She was only twelve. What kind of business could she possibly have?

  But the visits became less frequent after that. Then they stopped entirely. Iris had entered a world he couldn't follow—meetings with executives, learning to run companies, making decisions that affected thousands of people.

  And Leon had wanted to follow her there. Into that world of glass towers and important conversations. The world where people like Iris belonged.

  He'd been a kid with a childish dream. But it had been real.

  Now, sitting in his apartment with college applications open on his laptop, that old dream felt almost laughable. What had he actually done to make it real? Nothing. He'd survived, scraped by, worked minimum wage jobs and barely passed his classes.

  Not exactly elite material.

  Leon closed the laptop and got ready for his shift. Tuesday evening, the KFC would be busy. He needed to focus on that, not on impossible dreams from childhood.

  The week continued its usual rhythm. School, work, homework, sleep. Repeat.

  Thursday during lunch, the cafeteria TV was showing some news segment. Leon wasn't paying attention until Marcus pointed at the screen.

  "Hey, isn't that the place your dad wanted you to apply to?" he asked Daniel.

  Daniel glanced up. "Valorian Academy? Yeah. He's obsessed with it."

  "What's that?" Sophie asked.

  "Super elite school. Like, if Harvard and Yale had a baby and that baby was raised by billionaires."

  On the screen, footage showed a sprawling campus that looked more like a small city. Modern buildings, manicured grounds, students in expensive-looking uniforms.

  "Valorian Academy announces record enrollment numbers," the news anchor said. "With 1,600 students from around the globe, the institution continues to set the standard for elite education. This year's graduating class of 400 has already seen unprecedented recruitment from major corporations..."

  "Only 400 students graduate per year?" Sophie said. "That's tiny."

  "That's the point," Daniel replied. "It's exclusive. World leaders send their kids there. CEOs, politicians, old money families. If you graduate from Valorian, you're basically guaranteed success."

  The segment continued, showing more footage. State-of-the-art facilities, accomplished faculty, interviews with students who spoke multiple languages and casually mentioned internships at Fortune 500 companies.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "Major sponsor Amigos Innovation, owned by the Remeria Foundation, has increased its scholarship fund," the anchor continued. "The top one percent of Valorian graduates are offered prestigious positions within Remeria's global network of industries."

  Leon's attention sharpened at the mention of Remeria.

  Of course. Of course Iris's companies would be involved.

  "My dad says getting into Valorian is harder than getting into any college," Daniel said. "You need perfect grades, recommendations from important people, and usually family connections. He's been trying to get me to apply but there's no way I'd get in."

  "Would you even want to?" Sophie asked. "Sounds intense."

  "I don't know. Maybe? The opportunities are insane."

  Marcus turned to Leon. "You're quiet. What do you think?"

  "About what?"

  "About places like that. Ever think about applying somewhere prestigious?"

  Leon shook his head. "Not realistic for me."

  "Why not? Your grades are decent."

  "Decent isn't enough for places like that. And I don't have connections or money or any of the things they actually care about."

  "Still. Doesn't hurt to dream, right?"

  Leon looked at the screen. The campus did look impressive. A whole city dedicated to grooming future leaders. The kind of place where someone could actually build the life he'd imagined as a kid.

  "Yeah," he said quietly. "Doesn't hurt to dream."

  The conversation moved on. The news segment ended, replaced by weather and sports. Leon finished his lunch and tried not to think about it.

  That night, alone in his apartment, Leon found himself searching for Valorian Academy.

  Their website was sleek, professional, intimidating. Requirements listed in clean fonts: exceptional academic record, leadership experience, letters of recommendation from notable figures, substantial application essay, interview with admissions board.

  He clicked through pages showing campus life, student achievements, notable alumni. Everyone looked confident, polished, like they belonged there.

  Leon looked at his own reflection in the dark window. Worn KFC uniform. Tired eyes. Cheap apartment.

  He didn't belong in there.

  But for just a moment, he let himself imagine it. Walking those pristine pathways, sitting in those high-tech classrooms, & a chance to believe that he had come at least even a little closer to her.

  Leon closed the browser. Stupid. It was a stupid fantasy from childhood that he needed to let go of. He had real problems to deal with—graduation coming up in a few weeks, finding a more stable job, figuring out which community college he could actually afford.

  Practical things.

  Not dreams about elite academies for people who lived in a completely different world.

  He turned off his laptop and got ready for bed. Tomorrow was Friday, double shift after school. He needed sleep.

  Friday's classes dragged. His Chemistry teacher returned their recent tests—Leon had gotten a B, better than expected. Mrs. Peterson praised their festival project in history, confirming they'd both gotten A's.

  Small victories.

  After school, he headed straight to work. The dinner rush was brutal—everyone seemed to want fried chicken at the same time. Leon worked the register, took orders, smiling automatically.

  Around 8:00 PM, during a brief lull, his manager came out from the back.

  "Leon, you've been doing good work. I'm putting you on the schedule for some day shifts next week if you want them."

  "Yeah, that works. Thanks."

  "You graduating soon?"

  "Few weeks."

  "Got plans after?"

  Leon paused. "Still figuring it out."

  "Well, let me know if you want more hours. We could use reliable people."

  More hours at KFC. That was his future, apparently.

  It wasn't bad. It was income. It was something.

  Just not... what he'd imagined.

  The rest of the shift passed. Leon cleaned the fryers, took out trash, helped close up. By the time he walked out into the night air, his feet ached and he smelled like grease.

  The bus ride home was quiet. Late enough that only a few other tired workers were on it. He stared out the window at the passing city.

  Leon got off at his stop and walked the remaining blocks to his apartment. Climbed the stairs. Unlocked his door. Dropped his bag inside.

  Tomorrow was Saturday. He had the morning off, at least. Maybe he'd actually get some real sleep.

  He fell into bed without bothering to change, exhaustion pulling him under almost immediately.

  Dreams, he'd learned, were for people who could afford them.

  Everyone else just had to survive.