The drive to her work was silent. Victoria stole glances at him, but Dick didn't acknowledge them. Pulling up to the curb outside her office, Dick finally spoke. "Get out."
Victoria blinked, hesitating for just a second before fumbling for the door. As she stepped onto the pavement, she turned back toward him, her lips parting as if to say something, but the sharp look he gave her froze the words in her throat. She swallowed hard and nodded once more, closing the door without another sound.
Dick didn't bother watching her walk into the building. He shifted gears and sped off, the engine purring as he left her behind. As the university loomed in the distance, his phone buzzed. He glanced down—Paige. No surprise there. She had been particularly eager after their last few sessions. He let the message sit unread.
The McLaren slid smoothly into a parking spot near the campus gym. Dick stepped out, stretching his arms as a few students threw curious glances his way. The car was a new addition, and many had never seen him drive before. A couple of girls gave him interested smiles, and Dick returned the gestures with a cool smile. He entered the building, brushing past the crowded hallways.
He had two classes in the morning and two more after lunch, a busy schedule. Paige wouldn't be seeing him today. He had no intention to spend his 1 hour break at the gym. The first class was dull, some basic lecture he barely paid attention to. Class ended. He stood up, stretching lazily before heading to the next room. The second class also ended, and he stood again, moving with the crowd toward the exit. His next break was only an hour, and he wasn't about to waste it in the gym.
His phone buzzed again. This time, he checked the message.
Lana: Can I see you today?
Dick: Busy today. Tomorrow.
Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Dick made his way toward the administration building. It was time to settle on a major. He'd put it off long enough, but after everything that had happened recently, he finally had a direction in mind.
Inside, the waiting area was quiet. A few students sat around, flipping through their phones or half-heartedly chatting. Dick scanned the room until he spotted Nate sitting near the back. They'd met on the first day of classes—a chance encounter, but one that stuck.
"Dick!" Nate waved, standing up as Dick approached. "You finally choosing a major, too?"
"Yeah," Dick replied, giving him a nod. "About time, right?"
Nate chuckled. "Tell me about it. I've been stuck between economics and political science for weeks now. You?"
Dick shrugged, keeping his answer vague. "I've got something in mind." They made small talk for a moment before a secretary called Nate's name, signaling it was his turn. Dick leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as he waited.
Nate emerged from the office a few minutes later, looking relieved. "Well, that's one thing off my plate," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Good luck in there, man. Hope you make the right choice."
After he got out, Dick said, "Political science?"
Nate nodded, stiffening slightly. "Yeah."
"Your mother's choice?"
Nate froze, eyes narrowing as a flicker of surprise crossed his face. "How the hell you know that?"
Dick shrugged casually, a smirk playing at his lips. "Lucky guess."
Nate let out a half-hearted laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, something like that. She thinks it'll keep me 'well-rounded,' whatever that means."
Dick cocked his head, studying Nate for a moment. "And what do you think?"
Nate hesitated, clearly not expecting the question. He glanced around the room, as if searching for an answer before finally sighing. "Honestly? I don't know. Feels like I'm just doing what everyone else expects."
Dick chuckled. "Yeah, that's usually how it goes. Everyone's got a plan for you, but no one bothers asking what you actually want."
Nate raised an eyebrow, surprised by the comment. "And you? Got your future all figured out?"
Dick didn't miss a beat. "Something like that."
Nate gave a small nod, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Guess we'll see how it all plays out."
The secretary called Dick's name, snapping him back to the present. He gave Nate a nod before heading into the office.
Inside, the advisor barely glanced up from her computer. "Major?"
"Psychology," Dick said smoothly, watching for any reaction. None came, just a nod as she typed it into the system.
"You'll need to declare a minor by the end of the semester," she added, eyes still glued to the screen. "Anything else?"
"Nope," Dick replied, turning on his heel and heading for the door. As he stepped back into the hallway, Nate was already gone.
Psychology. It wasn't a bad choice. Hell, it was perfect for what he had in mind. Understanding people, getting into their heads, knowing exactly how to pull their strings. It all tied into what he was building. Control wasn't just physical; it was mental, emotional. And if there was one thing he had learned, it was that everyone had a breaking point. You just had to know where to apply pressure.
He also had plans after graduating. He would open an office, and rich married women would flock to him, talking about their marital problems, seeking solutions. But Dick wouldn't just listen; he'd use their vulnerability, their loneliness, to get close. Cuckolding their husbands was the natural next step. It wasn't even about the thrill anymore—it was easy NP. Every confession, every tear shed in that office would be an opening to twist their loyalty, pull them deeper into his orbit until they couldn't imagine a life without him.
Checking his phone, Dick noticed he still had more than half an hour left. "Enough time to eat," he muttered, heading toward the campus cafeteria. He skipped breakfast, he was going to eat outside, but Victoria's arrival chnge his plans, and now hunger gnawed at him.
The cafeteria buzzed with the usual midday crowd. Dick walked in, glancing around. The smell of food hit his senses. After waiting in line for a few minutes, he stepped up to the cashier, pulling out his wallet, only to see the sign—no cash accepted.
A voice behind him cut through his thoughts, "They don't take cash here. You gotta put credits on your school ID." He turned, locking eyes with a girl standing next in line. She looked at the line behind him, eyebrows raised as if to say, "You're screwed if you have to start over."
Dick sighed, scanning the crowded room. "Guess I'll—"
"Here, I got you," she interrupted, holding out her student ID. "It's not a big deal."
He didn't hesitate. "Thanks," he said, stepping aside while she paid for both meals. As they moved away from the register, he shot her a look.
"No problem," she said, her tone casual, not lingering on the act like she was expecting anything in return.
They grabbed trays, navigating through the packed tables. She gestured toward a small spot near the windows, and they both sat down. Dick watched her, noting how easily she fit into this place, like she'd been here forever.
"I'm Alice, by the way," she offered, stabbing at her salad.
"Dick," he replied, leaning back in his chair, eyes casually drifting over the crowd, then back to her. She didn't seem phased by his name, which was a good sign.
"So, what brings you to campus so late in the semester?" she asked between bites.
Dick sighed, "I'm not new, actually. Just haven't been to the cafeteria much."
Alice raised an eyebrow, her fork pausing mid-air. "Really? Didn't you pay attention during orientation?"
Dick smiled faintly, leaning back in his chair. "Who even listens to that stuff?"
She chuckled, shaking her head. "Fair enough. I guess most people don't."
The conversation flowed easily as they ate, the awkwardness that usually hung over new encounters surprisingly absent. Dick noted the way Alice carried herself—confident, comfortable, the kind of person who didn't seem fazed by much.
"Psych major?" she asked between bites, glancing at him.
"Yeah. You?"
"Lit and philosophy." She smirked, sensing his skepticism. "Yeah, I know. Super practical, right? But hey, it's what I'm into."
Dick raised his hands with a grin. "Not judging. I heard about a guy disarming someone with Shakespeare quotes, so why not?"
Alice chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. "Yeah, well, I doubt that's happening anytime soon in my classes. But I'll keep the 'To be or not to be' in my back pocket, just in case."
"So, what got you into lit and philosophy? Looking to be the next great thinker or something?" Dick asked, genuinely curious.
Alice smirked. "Something like that. I guess I just enjoy asking the big questions, you know? The kind most people avoid. Besides, there's something about dissecting stories, finding the meaning behind the words... it just clicks for me."
Dick nodded, taking another big bite. "Yeah, I get that. Psychology's kind of the same. Figuring people out, understanding what makes them tick."
Alice's eyes flickered with interest. "You really believe that? That you can figure people out just by studying them?"
He tilted his head, sensing a challenge in her tone. "Everyone has patterns. Habits, triggers. It's all there if you pay attention long enough."
Her lips curled into a thoughtful smile. "Maybe. But people can surprise you."
Dick shrugged. "Maybe. But most don't."
She looked eager. "How about you do me?"
Dick smirked. "You might want to rephrase that."
Alice blinked, then a blush crept up her neck. "I mean… analyze me."
Dick leaned back in his chair, shrugging casually. "Alright. I'm just a freshman, but let's see what I've got."
His mind sharpened as he activated his Analytical Thinking, eyes scanning her quickly but thoroughly. Alice was confident, sure of herself, but there were little signs—subtle, barely noticeable shifts in her posture, quick glances when she wasn't speaking—that gave away the cracks in that armor.
"You're smart. No doubt about that. You like reading between the lines, finding meaning in things other people overlook," he started, watching her reaction. Alice leaned forward, intrigued. "But you're also skeptical. About people, mostly. You don't trust easily, and you're always looking for that angle, the catch. You're not the type to take anything at face value."
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow, though her expression showed she was impressed. "Okay, not bad so far."
Dick continued, his tone casual but his mind focused. "You're good at deflecting, though. You use humor to keep people at a distance. Keeps you in control of the conversation, makes sure things don't get too serious. But deep down, you've got questions—ones you don't ask out loud because you're afraid of the answers."
Alice's smirk faltered slightly, her eyes narrowing as if trying to figure out how much of that was a guess and how much was real observation. "Go on."
He leaned in a little, keeping his voice low, almost conspiratorial. "You didn't come to this school because of some grand career plan, did you? You're here to figure yourself out. Lit and Philosophy weren't just random picks—they were an act of rebellion. A way to break free from whoever's got their claws in you. Someone who makes every choice for you, controls every move you make. Probably your mother."
Alice's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked it with a sharp smile. "And now we're reaching, huh?"
"No, I'm not." Dick's tone was steady, unwavering. "She set your path, made sure you followed their rules, her expectations. But this," he gestured between them, "this is you breaking out of that. Lit, Philosophy—it's your way of saying 'fuck you' to whoever thinks they own your life."
Alice's smirk faded. For a moment, she looked away, her arms still crossed, but less defiant. She was quiet for a moment, her fingers toying with the edge of her tray. "Damn," she muttered softly, half to herself. "You're… really good at this."
Dick gave a casual shrug. "Like I said, it's all about paying attention."
Alice's expression softened, the playfulness dimming a bit as she studied him. "Alright, hotshot, you've got me. So… what about you?"
Dick tilted his head. "What about me?"
"You seem pretty good at reading others. But what's your deal? You hiding anything?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm an open book. What you see is what you get."
Alice smirked but didn't push further, though he could tell she wasn't entirely convinced. That was fine. The less she knew, the better.
"Well, you're full of surprises," she admitted, finishing off her drink. "Might have to keep an eye on you, Graves."
Dick stood up, tossing his tray into the bin. "Maybe. Or you could just trust me."
She laughed, standing up to join him. "Yeah, I don't think that's happening anytime soon."
As they walked out of the cafeteria, the midday sun hit their faces, the campus alive with students going about their day. Alice turned to him, her expression thoughtful. "You know, you're not like most of the guys around here."
"Is that a good thing?" he asked, a teasing edge to his voice.
"Maybe," she said, her lips curving into a small smile. "We'll see."
Dick watched her walk off, his eyes following her for a moment before he turned and headed in the opposite direction.
Not everyone was a target. Like Paige, Alice had potential. She was sharp, fun to talk to, and not like the girls who just floated around for attention. Dick found himself genuinely enjoying their banter, a rare break from the constant grind for NP. It was refreshing, and he didn't mind having someone in his life who wasn't there just to be manipulated.
He slid into his next class, the room already half-full with students chatting among themselves. The professor was late as usual, so Dick took a seat by the window, letting his mind drift as the hum of conversation filled the room. When the professor finally arrived, Dick barely paid attention to the lecture. He was already ahead in his studies. By the time his last class of the day ended, Dick was ready to head back to the home. He headed toward the parking lot where his new McLaren waited.