Reggie found himself back at a coffee shop. It didn't matter which one around the campus he stumbled into on Sunday morning, he just needed the caffeine. Preferably to go because he wanted to get a head start on fixing up his robot and program the audio component.

He'd felt like a weight was on his chest ever since he'd left Alanna and Shane together so that they could troubleshoot Shane's robot. Alanna would never consider it, because she was just being helpful, but she was actively working against Reggie by helping Shane. Only one robot would make it to the collegiate competition from the Sim State robotics program. Reggie was hoping it would be his spybot, but there was no doubt Shane Calhoun was a heavy contender.

He didn't feel right either, with how he and Alanna had parted. He got the distinct feeling she was annoyed with him as soon as he'd snapped out at her. He'd need to figure out something to do to make up for it.

He also could not shake the sight of Franz Schoulsburg running from the premises of the fight night location. Reggie had stayed up very late wandering around the seedy back streets of Scandalica City looking for that place.

Reggie had missed the event by only about fifteen minutes but found out from the spectators that had been present that the next fight was tonight. He would go again now that he knew where it was exactly and see if Franz was actually one of the fighters—that was Reggie's assumption anyway, and if his theory was correct, it would be proof enough to show Alanna that he had been right all along about Franz's violent nature. Then maybe she'd drop her blinders and stop hanging around Franz and making excuses for him once and for all. Some charity cases just weren't worth it.

Reggie paid for and received his coffee in a container and was about to head out to the engineering building to get to work when an obnoxious voice reached his ears. It oozed with faux charm and had a slight whine to it. He turned an eye toward the sound and saw Marshall Cosgrove trying to hit on a girl who looked to be minding her own business.


Reggie frowned slightly. He knew Marshall; their fathers had been friends for years and had even gone to university together. They were in Hoh Fruhm together. Which was why it infuriated Reggie to no end that he still wasn't in the Greek Society! He was a legacy! He had every right to be in that fraternity but kept getting denied membership. He should have gotten in as easily as Marshall.

Marshall went to the prep school in Isla Del Kashmire so Reggie and he never really had the chance to be friends in their youth but looking at him, Reggie doubted he could tolerate Marshall's company for more than five minutes.

"Hey, um Marshall?" Reggie said to catch his notice. Marshall and his frat buddy turned their attention toward Reggie; Marshall recognized him immediately despite not having seen each other for a few years.

"What do you want, Orbinson?"

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Reggie asked, making a slight nod toward behind him where they would be on the other side of the wall out of earshot from others. Marshall looked highly inconvenienced but sauntered over to where Reggie was. Reggie kept unconsciously tightening and loosening his grip on his coffee container. He wasn't scared of Marshall, but was a bit nervous. Marshall always played up the 'son-of-an-important-man' card well and had the seamless confidence to go with it, plus, he was Hoh Fruhm's president.

"Can't you see I was having a lovely conversation?" Marshall bit with annoyance and gestured toward the girl who now was being hit on by Marshall's frat brother. She looked kind of miserable, in Reggie's opinion.

"Sorry, but I heard there was an opening at Hoh Fruhm," Reggie said. He'd actually overheard it at this very coffee shop.

Marshall rolled his eyes, seemingly remembering the events that had led to the vacancy, "Yeah so?"

"So, I was wondering if you could take a look at my application—maybe get me voted in this time," Reggie said and Marshall seemed to consider the request for a few seconds before he belted out a sardonic laugh.


"No way, Orbinson. You have like a zero percent chance of getting in," he said, pulling his laugh into a serious frown and holding out his hand in a clear gesture that he wouldn’t reconsider. Reggie felt his gut fall in disappointment before it was replaced with heavy frustration at not understanding why.


"But I'm legacy!"

"Listen, I'm not supposed to let you in. So, I'm not."

Marshall began to return to what he had been doing before but Reggie reached out and grabbed him by his shoulder, "What are you talking about? Who told you to blacklist me?"

Instead of giving a straight answer, Marshall shrugged Reggie off in the same annoyed manner and replied sharply—"Why don't you ask your father?"

What. The. Fuck.

Marshall's cryptic answer left Reggie reeling with questions but the conversation was done as far as the fraternity president was concerned and so Reggie was left standing there while his coffee turned cold.


Robotics would have to wait.

Reggie wanted answers.

He hurriedly drove to the business district of Scandalica City since he'd tracked his father's location to the city hall. It was a Sunday, and the man really shouldn't have been working, however, since it was an election year, his father put in constant overtime to run a campaign and do government business simultaneously.

Parking was, thankfully, easy since it was the weekend. He finished off his coffee and tossed the container into a trash bin outside of the city hall before he started up the stairs to the entrance. The caffeine was hitting him now. He felt very energized. He was on a mission, a mission for answers.

His father had been the mayor of Kashmire since Reggie was in junior high, so Reggie knew the ins and outs of the building quite well. He had even been a city hall page and interned a couple of summers to get extra credit for his government classes. As the only Orbinson son, he'd been groomed for a political life—taking debate, running for student council, participating in youth leadership workshops—yet he still didn't know if that was his true calling. He just hadn't found anything better yet.


As he took the corridor up into the East wing toward the mayor's office, he passed an open doorway, and a beat later a stern voice carried out to him, "Reginald Orbinson, where do you think you are going?"

He froze in place before taking a few steps backward and sheepishly peered into Millicent Conway's office. Though her voice had sounded stern, she still had a playful spark behind her eyes when she regarded him.

Millicent was his father's assistant and had been for many years, even before his dad was the mayor. She was just out of university when she was hired on to work on Lawrence Orbinson's first campaign for the position. Reggie remembered having the biggest crush on her in his early adolescence, mostly based on how pretty she was, and it was a fact she still looked very well for her age.


"I was just going to see Dad."

"He's busy."

"He's expecting me," Reggie insisted. He had even called beforehand and told him he was on his way.

Millicent twisted her steely features into thoughtful consideration and then stood, gathered up an armful of books, and said, "Fine, but I'll lead you in. It's my job."

Reggie made a groan with a highly exasperated nature. Couldn't they forgo formalities? It was Sunday after all. He let her walk past him and followed, knowing that arguing with her was pointless.

"You're at uni now, right?" She asked as she led him down the remainder of the corridor.

"Yeah, a junior."

"What's your major? Oh, let me guess. Political Science."

Reggie's silence was telling so Millicent nodded to herself, "figures." Then she made a small gasp followed by a grumble, "Shoot, I forgot to grab him a coffee."


She gave a few knocks on the double door to the mayor's office and they heard him bid them enter.

"Here's those books you requested," Millicent walked straight in and delivered them to the top of his desk, "I also brought you your wayward son."

"Take a seat, Reginald," his dad requested and Reggie removed his messenger bag and set it on the sofa next to him as he fell into it.

Lawrence Orbinson's office was grandiose. Decorated with a rich blue theme; there were fresh flowers in tall vases, long draped curtains, and a new addition was the large rug that covered most of the room that was a gift from Takemizu's ambassador. He had stacks of papers next to his computer and Reggie figured that's what was keeping him here on a Sunday.

"Coffee?" The mayor raised an eyebrow at his assistant, seeing it was missing.


"Sorry sir, I forgot it when I grabbed the books—but I can go get you one—" Millicent admitted but was interrupted by a dismissive wave of the mayor's hand.

"Don't worry yourself. Go home and relax; I shouldn't be keeping you here over the weekend anyway but your help is very much appreciated."

"Thank you, sir," Millicent seemed entirely relieved and quickly left, eager to have the rest of the day free to herself after weeks of overtime assisting the mayor.

In Reggie's opinion, Millicent deserved a break. He couldn't imagine it was easy keeping up with his father's demands.


"I take it that whatever you wanted to speak to me about was of utmost urgency for you to come down here on a holiday weekend," his father said as he started taking papers off their stacks and signing them. He didn't glance up at his son but maintained an open ear while he was busying himself with other matters.

Well, to be fair, Reggie didn't have any holiday plans except building more on his robot. He wasn't the type to go to Kashmire Point, hit the nightclubs of Scandalica City, or go out with friends—because he didn't really have any. He did want to play more Rush Hour, but his best opponent hadn't been online for a few days and he kept winning all his matches. That reminded him that he needed to explore more on his theory that Violet_Fire could actually be Alanna because she had mentioned she was studying all weekend and that could have been the reason Violet_Fire was offline.

Anyway, Reggie had to push that question aside and focus on getting answers for a more vital one.

"I ran into Marshall Cosgrove this morning, and when I asked about the status of my Greek Society membership, he told me I'm never getting it and to ask you why," Reggie folded his arms as his father finally, did briefly glance up but not with any amount of surprise. Reggie leaned forward with a pointed frown, "What did you do?"

His father returned his concentration to the papers in front of him, continued signing the current one, and then set his pen down. Next, he pushed his chair back and stood up, walking around his desk, and motioned Reggie to follow him.

Reggie also rose to his feet, curiously taking steps after his father before realizing they were going into the private room. It wasn't somewhere Reggie ever was allowed to be when he visited City Hall—to him it was just a door off to the side of the Mayor's office but he'd seen his father take private meetings inside it before. Whatever his father had to tell him, it couldn't be overheard by anyone and it caused Reggie to be very concerned.

The room was small, and intimate, and had the original hardwood flooring from when the city hall was first built. There were two vintage sofas, a bookshelf, and most notably a dart board with his father's political rival's face tacked behind it.

His father picked out a handful of darts from their holder and stood back from the dartboard.

This was no time for games! Reggie crossed his arms again and frowned while clearing his throat—impatient for an answer.

"A few years ago, legislation came across my desk—" His father finally started to say, throwing a dart hard at the board. It whizzed past Reggie and stuck three rings from the bulls-eye. "It concerned a partition of land in Isla Del Kashmire that was found to be the habitat of a rare species of squirrel."

Reggie tried very hard but failed to see what a rare species of squirrel had to do with him being denied a spot at the most prestigious fraternity at Sim State University.

"The naturalists were in a frenzy to get that protection law passed; they blasted this issue all over the media, it was suddenly a very unpopular prospect to deny these squirrels a protected home—therefore, the council rushed it through and the only thing delaying it was my signature," his father threw a second dart and it landed closer to the center target. Reggie wondered how much time his father played darts here in his private room.

"So, I signed it to avoid the backlash of public opinion."

"Nice story...but—" Reggie uncrossed his arms and started but his dad threw him a look that indicated he wasn't finished and silently admonished him for interrupting. Reggie folded his arms again with frustration.

"Pryce Cosgrove had been gunning for that exact same land for a development project—he said it would have vitalized the neighborhood but that project died as soon as the land went under park services' protection. Cosgrove lost out on millions of potential revenue and I thought our friendship was strong enough to survive this...but..."

Now it all started to make sense.

"...I never expected him to be so petty about the loss. Not only did he stop speaking to me, but he convinced Calhoun to run against me this election cycle, probably to only have that land protection repealed. I also suspect that he's instructed his son to deny your application to the fraternity."

The final dart was thrown but went off-kilter and ended up piercing the area right above Elm Calhoun's forehead in the poster behind the board. His father seemed unconcerned about the shoddy shot and went to retrieve his darts.

So, in a sense, Reggie's predicament was his father's fault. Really, how important was a species of squirrel? There were tons of them around and what did it matter if it was a different type than the rest? Unless it had laser vision and could fly, Reggie couldn't care less. He was livid that his father was more worried about public perception than his son's future. It wasn't fair! Then an angry thought suddenly caught in his mind and he snapped, "So how come Evie got into the Cosgrove Scholarship House?"

The Cosgrove family funded a scholarship program and Evie received it her very first year at Academie Le Tour.

"I suppose she was awarded that spot as a gesture of goodwill. She entered right about the time the legislation was being considered," his father ruminated and aimed his next throw. A small, wry, smile appeared on his face before he launched it, "Though can you imagine if Evie was denied? I doubt she would have accepted such a decision."


Reggie narrowed his eyes. What was his father implying? That Evie was more competent at being an Orbinson than him? Yeah right! He was as clean as a whistle and he doubted his parents even knew she was carrying on an affair with the maestro; it was so obvious the way she was always 'collaborating' with him, which she had been doing since she was eighteen. He just didn't get the appeal as to why she kept it up all these years. His sister probably had many secrets that could ruin the family if unveiled.

He had to admit, his dad still had a point—Evelyn Jane, for all her scheming and manipulations, had always been very good at getting what she wanted. So, in this situation, the question now was 'what would Evelyn Jane do?' The answer was quite clear—Reggie couldn't stand by anymore and simply hope things would go his way. He would have to actively make it so.

By any means necessary.