From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 679: The Thin Layer

The winter holiday ended quietly, without ceremony. The festive lights were taken down from the streets, the sweet smell of roasted chestnuts disappeared from the campus gates, and the university returned to its usual rhythm. A new semester began.

Micah returned to school with his face half-hidden behind a black mask. It did little to quiet the attention. If anything, the buzz around him had only grown louder.

Students slowed when he walked past. Some whispered. Some openly stared. A few boldly lifted their phones, pretending to scroll while secretly taking photos. His popularity from the advertisement had not faded as he had hoped. Instead, it had spread through every corner of Isatis City, leaving him feeling trapped. Micah kept his head down and walked straight ahead, pretending he heard none of it.

As if the attention at school was not enough, new offers began to pile up on his desk. One of them was particularly absurd. An invitation from the national fashion organisation, asking him to appear at their upcoming spring fashion week as an honorary model. Not only that, but they also offered to feature his designs in their men’s spring collection.

Micah stared at the printed proposal, then slowly lifted his eyes to the woman sitting across from him.

Patricia Mullins sat upright in her chair, elegant as always. She had recently transferred from La Riviere Media after hearing that Liana Shannon had joined Paniz Entertainment. That alone had surprised Micah.

He had assumed Patricia would stay where she was. When she first met him, she had introduced herself as a manager from La Rivière Media. She hadn’t even been associated with his company at the time. Yet she moved without hesitation.

Apparently, according to several insiders, she was a die-hard fan of Sister Liana.

Micah still found that mildly unbelievable.

Now she was here, seated across from him in a quiet café near campus, a porcelain teacup resting delicately between her fingers.

"The organisation is very sincere," Patricia said gently. "They believe your current public attention can draw more viewers. And they are willing to offer you a central position."

Micah lowered his gaze again to the proposal. Sincere? Or opportunistic? Truthfully, he did not even have the energy to judge.

Emotionally, he was not in the right state. His thoughts were slow. His chest felt heavy all the time, like something was pressing down on him. Accepting such an offer would mean publicity, preparation, fittings, interviews, design meetings, and rehearsals.

Too much.

He shook his head. "With my current situation..." His voice came out lower than usual. "I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to appear there."

Patricia quietly set down her teacup. The soft clink against the saucer echoed in the small space. She studied him carefully. He had lost weight. His jawline had become sharper. The brightness that used to sit in his eyes was dimmed. Even the way he held his shoulders felt different, less confident, more guarded. She had heard about the loss in his family recently.

Her tone softened. "I understand," she said. "But they also offered to showcase your designs in their spring collection. Considering your major, this is not just a modelling appearance. This is exposure as a designer."

She paused, then added carefully, "It would look very impressive on your résumé."

Micah raised his hand gently, signalling her to stop. "You don’t have to persuade me further," he said. "I’ve already thought about it." His fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the paper. "I’m not ready to create a new set of designs just for them."

Patricia tilted her head. "Is that what worries you? There is no pressure to create something entirely new. They were very enthusiastic. They mentioned they had already seen your previous designs."

Micah blinked. "What?"

"They said one of your teachers showed your work to them."

For a moment, his mind went blank. Then a familiar face surfaced in his memory. Tall. Confident. Always walking like she was still on a runway.

"Ah..." he murmured. "You probably mean Georgina Malleti."

Georgina Malleti. Patricia’s eyes widened slightly. "The supermodel?"

"She’s the dean of our department," Micah replied.

It made sense.

Georgina had always paid attention to promising students and recommended them. She had once stopped by as a favour to Clyde and studied his sketches. Perhaps she had been planning this.

"In that case," Micah said slowly, "I’ll speak to her first before giving them my final answer."

Patricia’s lips curved into a faint smile. "That sounds reasonable."

She gathered her purse and stood gracefully. "I’ll wait for your response. But truly, Micah... opportunities like this don’t come twice."

He gave a small nod.

She left the café. The door chimed softly behind her.

Micah remained seated, staring at the untouched tea in front of him. He absentmindedly circled his finger along the rim of the cup, feeling the faint warmth still lingering there.

Fashion. His interest in it had started because of his grandmother. He could still remember sitting beside her as a child, watching her examine jewellery pieces under the sunlight. The way she would touch the jewellery accessory with her fingers and say, "Jade, gold, titanium... all of them have personality too. Matching them with the clothes is not an easy feat."

Would she be proud if she saw him now? Would she want him to go?

He leaned back slightly in his chair. The problem was not the runway. It was the designs. Almost all his past works were women’s clothing. Elegant silhouettes. Flowing skirts. Structured jackets. Except for that one period. That one impulsive time. When he had been inspired by Clyde.

He had stayed up late for days sketching men’s suits, coats, layered looks. Every line had been drawn with a specific person in mind. Clyde’s shoulders. Clyde’s height. Clyde’s posture.

Those designs were not generic. They were personal. Would they even look right on someone else?

Micah exhaled slowly and pulled his mask higher over his nose.

He stood up and left the café.

The afternoon air was cold, brushing against his cheeks as he stepped outside. He adjusted his scarf and began walking toward the waiting car parked by the curb.

He was not paying attention. A figure suddenly rushed past him and collided directly into his shoulder. The impact knocked him off balance.

Micah stumbled backward, his heel catching awkwardly against the pavement. For a split second, he braced himself for the sharp pain of hitting the wall behind him.

But instead... A firm hand caught him by the arm. Another hand pressed lightly against his back, absorbing the force before he could crash.

Micah blinked rapidly. Dark eyes met his. His expression changed immediately. He straightened himself, pulling away.

"Thank you," he muttered quickly, voice stiff. He turned his head, ready to leave.

"Wait!" The voice came urgently. "Please. I need to talk to you."

Micah’s jaw tightened. He did not want to talk. He did not want to hear whatever excuse or explanation was about to come out of that mouth.

He quickened his pace and made a beeline for the car with an open door. He slipped inside swiftly. The door shut. The outside noise was instantly muffled. Micah leaned back against the seat and let out a long breath.

Why was that idiot Luca McKay here again? Was he stalking him?

Micah rubbed his temples. He did not know what kind of potion those four men had been drinking recently, but their behaviour had become completely absurd. They were trying to curry favour with him.

Him.

As if they had any kind of normal relationship in the first place. After that online incident months ago, something had shifted.

Micah had felt it clearly. Clyde had become overprotective. Darcy had started sticking to him like glue.

And those four... They appeared far too often. Too coincidental.

Archie, even after being disgraced by campus rumours and sent to rehabilitation, had returned and lingered outside the university gates like a madman.

Micah had seen it several times. Every time he exited campus, Clyde’s men appeared and drove Archie away before he could approach. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Micah had pretended not to notice. He had also seen Silas in the hospital lobby when Zhou Ruyan was admitted. Not once. Multiple times. Silas would stand near the elevator or in the hallway, as if waiting for someone.

Leo and Aidan had been subtler.

Leo used corporate connections to trace his schedule through company channels.

Aidan had somehow convinced Gu Donghai and Gu Feifie to snoop around Ramsy Mansion.

Micah was not blind. He was not stupid. He knew something was wrong. But Clyde’s people, or Darcy, always intercepted them. They blocked them. Kept them at a distance. Ensured no one crossed the line.

And Micah?

He played the role of a clueless young man. Because the truth was... He did not want answers. There was a thin, fragile layer separating him from that painful past. If he asked why they were searching for him... If he demanded to know what they wanted... That protective layer would shatter. And everything ugly would resurface. He was not ready. So he chose ignorance. He turned a blind eye. He allowed Clyde and Darcy to quietly shield him. But now they were getting bolder.

Sending Luca to mediate again? What next? Would Leo send Sergeant Seth to his door? Would Silas involve his mother? Would Archie use his younger brother to gain sympathy? Would Aidan revert to his old methods and attempt something drastic like kidnapping?

Micah’s expression darkened. His fingers curled slightly against his coat sleeve. Like hell he would sit still and let them stir chaos in his life again. Fortunately, the New Year holiday was approaching soon. He could disappear for a while.

Go somewhere quiet. Somewhere they could not find him. Somewhere he did not have to constantly look over his shoulder.

Micah closed his eyes briefly as the car pulled away from the curb. He did not know whether running was cowardly. But right now...Running felt safer than facing whatever storm was gathering behind him.