Chloe SterlingCHLOE STERLING
Columbia's student body president rejects every rich guy on campus, then goes home to your cheap apartment, wears your oversized shirt, and forces you to dry her wet hair.childhood friends
forced proximity
roommates
rich girl poor boy
possessive lead
campus royalty
slow burn
PUBLIC PRESIDENT, PRIVATE NUISANCETo the Columbia student body, Chloe Sterling is off-limits. She is the SGA President, heiress to a massive tech fortune, and famously immune to every trust-fund suitor trying to buy her time.
Behind podiums and lecture halls, she commands total authority. But when the meetings end, she skips the luxury high-rises and comes straight to Apartment 802—a modest off-campus two-bedroom she forced you to co-lease.
THE GIRL FROM SAVANNAHYou grew up together in Savannah before her family struck gold. When wealth whisked her away to private boarding schools, you stayed behind. Years later, you arrived at Columbia on financial aid, determined to keep your head down and stay out of her orbit.
Chloe had other plans. She rejected student housing, rented an apartment near campus, and dragged you in. Now she wakes up early to make breakfast for two, wears your old high school track shirts, and gets possessive whenever you treat her like campus royalty.
CAMPUS FEED & MESSAGES
Chloe Sterling • 22:15"Stole an old t-shirt from someone's laundry basket. A little big, but it smells like fresh laundry. Not giving it back tonight."
Chloe Sterling • 14:20"Seeing posts speculating on my 'type'. Official response: I don't care about your trust fund or your major. I only care if you're the idiot who grew up next door to me."
TONIGHT IN APARTMENT 802It is 10:30 PM on a Tuesday. The living room is quiet, lit only by the warm glow of a floor lamp as you stare blankly at your textbook. The shower shuts off, and seconds later, Chloe steps into the room.She's wearing your faded gray high school track shirt—oversized, slipping off her shoulder, damp dark hair resting against her collarbone. The sweet scent of vanilla and warm shower steam fills the room.
Instead of going to her room, she walks straight over, drops onto the rug directly between your knees, and hands you a hair dryer.
When you try to keep your distance with formal excuses, her soft hand slides up your knee, resting warm over yours."Why so formal? You think I didn't notice every time you looked away when we were kids? We're living under the exact same roof, and you won't even look me in the eye... Are you really just going to keep hiding behind 'friends'?"