From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 611: The Guest List (part six/ Archie)

Archie stood half-hidden behind a tall decorative pillar near the edge of the lobby, where the lights softened and the noise thinned just enough for him to breathe. The music drifted lazily above the crowd, smooth and expensive, the kind that never demanded attention but still reminded everyone where they were. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, their reflections breaking apart in the polished marble floor. Every laugh here sounded confident. Every step felt rehearsed.

He rolled the stem of his wineglass between his fingers, slow and restless. The deep red liquid swirled obediently with the motion, climbing the sides of the glass before sliding back down. He watched it like it might give him answers. He never brought the glass to his lips. He was already on edge enough. One little misstep and Archie was sure he would make a fool out of himself. The alcohol could not boost his courage without dulling his sharpness. And tonight he needed every bit of his concentration.

It wasn’t fear or social anxiety that kept him still, hidden in the shadows. Archie didn’t lack confidence, and he wasn’t overwhelmed by crowds. He had stood on stages, shouted instructions through headsets, and commanded five people at once in the middle of high-pressure matches. None of this should have been too much.

But his chest felt heavy tonight.

His shoulders were stiff beneath a jacket he wasn’t used to wearing. He tugged at the cuff once, then stopped himself, letting his arm fall back to his side. The fabric wasn’t cheap, but it wasn’t luxury either. It didn’t belong here. Neither did he.

People passed by him in ones and twos, voices low, laughter soft but assured. Their clothes fit perfectly. Their posture said they had never once worried about whether they were welcome.

Someone like him, from a middle-class family, shouldn’t have been standing in a place like this. A hall like this wasn’t built for people who counted expenses or reused phones for three years. It was built for those who never needed to check prices at all.

And yet, here he was.

The reason was painfully simple: seeking connection and power.

Not for himself. Archie had never cared about climbing social ladders or rubbing shoulders with people who saw others as stepping stones. If it were just for him, he would’ve walked out the moment he stepped inside. But it wasn’t. It was for his team.

The SilverBlade Legion wasn’t just a hobby to him. It was his pride. His responsibility. His proof that he could build something real with his own hands. They had sponsors, yes, but all of them were small companies. Local tech shops. Niche brands. Enough to survive, not enough to soar.

International competitions didn’t care about passion alone. They cared about money. Equipment. Travel. Exposure.

The university had done what it could, and Archie was grateful for that. But gratitude didn’t pay for flights or global tournament fees. If SilverBlade Legion wanted to step onto the world stage, they needed a name behind them that meant something.

They had debated endlessly on how to get the powerful companies to sponsor them. Yet, there had been no connection, whatsoever, to the Isatis city’s tycoons. However, something strange happened. The CQ University had received a handful of invitations, intended to let talented students from the university connect with the upper class. A carefully worded sentence that boiled down to one thing: come and impress us.

A pie falling from the sky.

Archie snorted quietly at the thought, tightening his grip on the wineglass. Nothing fell from the sky without strings attached.

Out of all departments, he had been chosen as one of the representatives. Three other students had come as well, each sent with their own goals, their own silent pressure.

And the moment he stepped inside, Archie felt like he had hit rock bottom. Being here meant smiling politely. Waiting to be noticed. Pitching himself like a product. Selling his talent to people who might not even look him in the eye.

Begging, in prettier words.

He shifted his weight, leaning slightly back into the shadow as another group passed too close. He caught fragments of conversation, stock markets, overseas resorts, and acquisitions. None of it felt real to him.

He recognised a few faces. Celebrities, mostly. People whose names appeared on screens instead of student lists. But none of them knew him.

He watched the other three students from CQ University scattered across the lobby. One laughed too loudly at a joke that wasn’t funny. Another stood rigid, nodding repeatedly while a man twice his age talked down at him. The third hovered near a drink table, eyes darting, clearly unsure where to stand.

Archie’s jaw tightened. This was exactly what he hated. But even that wasn’t the worst part.

The real reason his stomach churned, the reason his feet refused to move him into the light, was much simpler...and much more painful. Micah could be here. No. Not could. Probably was.

Archie closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, gaze dropping to the floor before lifting back to the crowd. The thought alone made his chest ache.

He knew who Micah really was now. Not just the arrogant, short-tempered guy from university who helped Russell deal with Ashley and smirked at the screen when he supported him slay the enemy mid-lane.

Micah Ramsy was the young master of the Ramsy family. Heir to the Ramsy Tech Empire.

The distance between them wasn’t a gap. It was a cliff. A mountain. Not any mountain. Everest Mountain. Something no amount of effort could flatten.

Archie had spent nights staring at his ceiling, replaying memories, piecing everything together. The expensive clothes Micah wore. The way he treated others with arrogant. The strange balance between elegance and warmth in everything he did. It all made sense now. And that knowledge crushed him.

Because no matter how hard Archie tried, no matter what he achieved, he would never stand beside Micah as an equal. He would always be someone looking up.

And tonight, he had to show Micah this side of himself. This version that hovered in shadows, hoping someone powerful would notice him.

Pathetic.

He swallowed hard, fingers tightening again around the glass until his knuckles paled.

He didn’t want to be here. He truly didn’t. But a traitorous part of his heart still yearned to see Micah. Just once. To look at him outside the campus halls and classes. To confirm that Micah was real in his world too, not just someone who belonged to polished floors and inherited power. Someone out of his reach, out of his league.