Con Artist

On the first day of school, my childhood sweetheart boyfriend, Xander Harris, took me to school, but we met a two-faced roommate.

She flattered him, praising his exceptional maturity for his age.

Yet, she accused me of being vain, carrying a knock-off designer bag, and creating a rich persona.

As I tidied my bed, she dramatically gasped. "Wasn't that wealthy older benefactor who accompanied you yesterday supposed to rent you a place near campus? What happened? Did he change his mind?"

When she learned that my boyfriend and I planned to marry right after graduation, she shouted loud, "You can't be serious! Are there still gold diggers who want to get something for nothing and rely on men?"

Inside, I was laughing hysterically.

Wealthy older benefactor? That was my dad!

And my boyfriend? Just the son of my dad's driver.

...

On the first day of my college, Xander accompanied me for registration.

He had just earned my parents' approval, and it was time for him to make a good impression.

He dressed in the outfit I recently gifted him from our tailor, and my dad even specially approved a Maybach for me and had Xander be responsible for my transportation throughout college.

Upon arriving at the school, I headed to the dormitory to greet my roommates, concerned that someone might be changing clothes, making it awkward for Xander to come up later.

To my surprise, the dorm door was wide open, yet the room was empty.

As I was about to toss my bag onto a bed I felt drawn to, a harsh voice sounded from the doorway, "What are you doing? That's my bed!"

I turned to see a woman standing angrily by the door.