Chapter 6
SIX
Beckett Harrington
All my life, anxiety had lived in my chest, fed by my father’s relentless expectations.
Today was supposed to be different. Today, I was choosing myself—stepping out from under his shadow—but the decision only sharpened the fear instead of easing it.
I woke tangled in damp sheets, sweat cooling against my skin, my heart already sprinting ahead of me.
The Academic Counseling Office loomed in my thoughts like a verdict waiting to be handed down.
After a rushed shower—hot water beating against my shoulders until my pulse slowed—I dressed carefully.
I refused to walk in there smelling like panic.
I didn’t know what I wanted. Not really.
That was the problem. I knew what fascinated me, what kept me up reading long past midnight, but a future beyond the one my father mapped out had never felt like an option.
He’d decided my life years ago. Imagining alternatives would’ve been pointless—dangerous, even.
In my family, having personal wants wasn’t independence; it was betrayal.
Still, the advisor’s job was to help people figure things out. I clung to that thought like a lifeline.
I’d done what Theo suggested the night before—start a FanFeed Creator account—and when I checked my phone that morning, an approval email waited for me.
Suddenly, everything felt real. Too real. The same panic crept in, sharp and relentless. What if no one liked my content? What if the page failed? I had nothing to fall back on if it did.
The questions spiraled. Was I supposed to get a normal job?
Could that even cover tuition? My father had insisted on a prestigious business school with a price tag I’d never been allowed to see.
I didn’t know what other universities cost. I didn’t know what anything cost—not freedom, not failure, not the future I was standing on the edge of choosing.
And yet, for the first time, it was mine to choose.
Thankfully, I’d noticed the counseling office yesterday while wandering the building, my nerves too loud to ignore anything else. That small bit of luck steadied me now. The Academic Counseling Office sat on the bottom floor, almost directly below the Financial Services Office.
A few people occupied the waiting area, their voices low, their bodies relaxed.
It wasn’t nearly as crowded as the other office had been.
I figured most students didn’t end up here this early—at least not until classes actually started and regret set in.
Ten in the morning still belonged to optimism.
The woman at the front desk looked up as soon as I approached, a real smile spreading across her face. Not the polite, rehearsed kind, but something warm and unguarded. It caught me off balance after yesterday’s cold indifference.
She looked young, close to my age, maybe even a student herself. The thought surprised me. Maybe they hired students here. Or maybe kindness just stood out when I was so used to being overlooked.
“Hi,” I said, stopping at the desk. The words stuck in my throat. “I need to meet with my advisor about classes.” I cleared my throat, heat creeping up my neck as my voice betrayed me.
She tilted her head, fingers still resting on the keyboard. “Do you know who that is?”
There was no edge to it—no sigh, no raised brow. Just a pause, patient enough that my shoulders loosened a fraction.
“No,” I admitted. “I’ve… never been here before. Never needed one.” The confession landed heavier than I had expected.
She waved it off with an easy flick of her hand. “That’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Don’t you need my name?” I asked, one eyebrow lifting before I could stop it.
She laughed, light and quick. “Of course I know who Beckett is.”
My mouth curved into a smile on instinct, a reflex to mask the jolt in my chest.
For a split second, it felt like being seen under a spotlight—but of course she’d know.
I had made a reputation for myself, and my name carried weight.
Maybe it had nothing to do with my dad being on the news for being arrested, but now I’d be wondering everywhere I went what people were thinking of me.
She turned back to her computer, keys clicking as her eyes narrowed at the screen. A few seconds passed. Then she looked up again. “Vivian Walker,” she said. “She’s in—and free.”
Relief slid through me, warm and unexpected.
“I’ll let her know you’re here. Go ahead and take a seat.”
She gestured behind me, already reaching for the phone. I followed her motion, the chair creaking softly as I sat, listening to her voice drop into a low murmur as she made the call—my future apparently only one sentence away.
It only took a minute before the advisor showed up and called my name, and she was friendly while she walked me to her office. It was the opposite of what I had dealt with yesterday.
Her office surprised me. Soft light pooled across the shelves, and the chairs looked lived-in rather than staged. I took the seat across from her desk, my hands folding together before I realized I was nervous.
“Hi, I’m Vivian Walker,” she said with an easy smile. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, Beckett? We’ve never officially met. You’ve never needed my services before, and your father made it clear you were on a very strict business track.”
I let out a slow breath. “Well… he’s not controlling my schooling anymore.
I’m paying for it myself now.” Saying it out loud made it feel heavier.
More real. “So I’m choosing my own classes.
Changing my major. I just—” I trailed off, the words tangling.
“I don’t know what I want to do anymore. My path was always laid out for me.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It gave my thoughts room to crowd in. Responsibility pressed down on my chest, unfamiliar and uncomfortable. I couldn’t believe I even had an academic advisor, let alone that I was sitting here, asking for help.
“I’m proud of you for taking that step and finding your way here,” Vivian said.
The words landed harder than I expected. No one had ever said that to me before. Something shifted in my chest, warm and disorienting, a feeling I didn’t have a name for.
She tilted her head slightly, studying me. “As for figuring out what you want to do with your life, tell me what you enjoy. Not what looks good on paper.” Her smile softened. “I already know your grades. I want to hear about the things I won’t find in your GPA.”
I stared at the edge of her desk, searching myself for answers.
“I’ve lived a pretty sheltered life,” I admitted.
“Thinking for myself like this is new.” I hesitated, then pushed on.
“I love biology. I like tutoring. And film.” I shrugged.
“I need a future that can sustain me. I grew up wealthy. I’m used to a certain lifestyle. ”
The words sounded shallow even to my own ears, but they were honest. Most of the families I knew had generational wealth, billion-dollar companies passed down like heirlooms. I didn’t know if school could ever replace that.
Vivian tapped her pen against her chin, thoughtful.
“You could teach, but that won’t get you where you want to be financially.
” She glanced back at her screen. “Let’s get you into a few film courses this semester so you can explore that world.
We’ll add some more biology too. You might enjoy veterinary science or marine biology. ”
She met my gaze. “Try not to think about money for a moment. Think about what would actually make you happy.”
I laughed under my breath. “Money,” I said honestly. Then I nodded. “But I agree with your plan. I’d like to explore film and something science-based.”
They didn’t fit neatly together, but neither did my life anymore. If it took an extra semester to figure it out, so be it. “I’d also like to keep my Monday, Wednesday, and Friday schedule if possible.”
Vivian turned to her computer, typing quietly. A printer hummed a moment later, and she handed me a fresh schedule. I scanned it, surprised by the flicker of excitement I felt. For the first time in a long while, my classes didn’t feel like a sentence.
“Don’t worry about attending today,” she said. “Start Wednesday so your professors have notice of the change.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“I’ll email you near the end of the semester so we can check in and decide next steps,” she said. “I’m looking forward to seeing how you grow, Beckett. Everyone deserves to be passionate about something.”
I folded the schedule carefully, as if it might disappear if I didn’t.
My vision blurred before I could stop it. I blinked hard, forcing the sting back. Vivian’s words lingered, gentle and steady, the kind of reassurance I’d always wanted from my family and learned not to expect.
I left her office lighter than I’d entered. Not fixed, not certain, but moving. For the first time, the future didn’t feel like a wall. It felt like a direction.
I didn’t plan on telling my parents about the change. It wasn’t worth the argument. Dad couldn’t run my life from a prison cell, and he couldn’t dictate my education when he wasn’t the one paying for it. That had been the agreement, whether he liked it or not.
Theo was the first person who came to mind. I couldn’t go to his place since he had classes, but he’d promised to come by mine tonight. The thought settled me. On my way back, I detoured to the campus convenience store to pick up a few of his favorite snacks.
Money still sat uneasily in the back of my mind. I had a plan now, but plans didn’t magically refill bank accounts. I counted what little cash I had left, unsure when my first real paycheck would come through.
Lucas had helped me open my own bank account the night before. I’d told him it was for general expenses, not the FanFeed page. The card would arrive in the mail soon. My first debit card. Not an extension of my father’s credit, not something handed to me with strings attached.