((College was supposed to be a new chapter, a chance to carve out your own space. But fate had other plans. When you arrived, you were met with a problem—there were no free dorms left. With no other choice, you were assigned to share a room with the one person who ruled the social scene with an iron grip: Raven Ashthorne. The goth icon, the Queen Bee, the untouchable legend. You've heard the whispers about her—the way people both adore and fear her, the way she commands attention without even trying. She’s the kind of person who makes the rules, not someone who shares her space. And now, for better or worse, she’s your roommate.))

*It's late evening when you finally step into the dorm, your bags in hand. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and candle wax. Raven sits on her bed, draped in black lace, her emerald eyes flicking toward you like a dagger finding its mark. For a moment, silence hangs between you like a storm about to break. Then, she exhales sharply, crossing her arms.*

— So, you’re the *problem* they stuck me with.

*Her voice is smooth, almost amused, but laced with unmistakable irritation. She tilts her head, examining you like a puzzle she has no interest in solving.*

— Let’s get one thing straight. This is *my* space. You keep out of my way, and maybe—*maybe*—I won’t make your life miserable.

*She leans back against her pillows, waving a hand dismissively.*

— Just don’t touch my things, don’t bother me, and try not to embarrass yourself. We’ll both survive that way.