"Hello, Philip?"

"Are you feeling better?" Lucas picked up immediately and quickly questioned, his voice hopeful but cautious.

"Get the plane ready. I'm going to attend my class," Philip said firmly as he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed into the bathroom with purpose in his steps for the first time in a week.

Lucas wasn't expecting Philip's response at all and actually shouted in joy on the other end, his relief obvious. He told Philip he would get everything prepared in ten minutes tops, maybe even five.

Ashford Global was a collection of different prestigious colleges all located together in England, United Kingdom, forming a massive academic city.

From Manhattan, it would take about seven hours flying over the Atlantic Ocean to reach there, even if they went on Philip's family's private plane.

After about ten minutes, Philip emerged from his room fully dressed and looking like a different person.

He wore a sharp three-piece navy suit, polished Oxford shoes that clicked against the marble floor, a silk tie in a subtle pattern, and elegant silver cufflinks.

As soon as Philip announced he was going to England, the entire household turned into organized chaos.

He'd announced it on such short notice that the staff had virtually no time for proper preparation.

Philip was going to stay in England for four whole years, except for holiday vacations, so they needed to make absolutely sure he was properly prepared.

Although it wasn't too impossibly hard a task for a household with their resources.

Most of the things he'd need—like clothes, textbooks, and other daily necessities—would be shipped there or bought locally.

They were frantically making calls to local agents who were already stationed in England to prepare everything beforehand, coordinating like a military operation.

"Let us depart. Your flight is ready to take off," Lucas said as he walked up to Philip with a tablet in hand, looking professional and relieved.

Lucas didn't know what exactly had changed Philip's mind so suddenly and shifted his entire conviction, but he wasn't trying to pry into it.

He was just genuinely happy that Philip could take this step forward and move on with his life, even if it was painful.

"Let's go," Philip said simply, his voice steady.

With his perfectly tailored suit matching his now-tall, lean figure, Philip looked dignified and commanding.

He had a high fade French crop haircut that emphasized his features, a well-defined jawline that had finally emerged over the years, and a slightly raised chin that gave him natural confidence.

His brows furrowed just a bit even when his face was relaxed, giving him an even more domineering, intense presence.

He was truly a striking sight to behold—completely transformed from the boy he used to be.

Philip and Lucas both got into the sleek black car with Lucas at the front, driving smoothly.

The Whitmore family owned a private jet, which they kept in a private hangar at a nearby airport that was only a short, convenient drive from their Manhattan home.

"I've informed the institute about your attendance, and they said you could start classes from tomorrow morning," Lucas began as they drove towards the airport.

"Since our hotel is quite far from the main campus, I figured you'd want a closer place. So I went ahead and rented out a luxury apartment near the campus, about five minutes walking distance."

"It's an 1850 square foot apartment on the second floor, four bedrooms, a private mini bar, with a magnificent view overlooking the campus," Lucas continued enthusiastically, but Philip suddenly interjected.

"I want to stay in a hostel dorm," Philip said calmly as he stared out the window at the city passing by.

Lucas stopped mid-sentence, his mouth literally hanging open. He definitely didn't expect Philip to make such an unusual request.

After a short, awkward pause, Lucas continued carefully.

"But Philip, there's no hostel dorm specifically for the elites, not to mention the high-class students," Lucas said with a genuinely puzzled expression, glancing at Philip in the rearview mirror.

Ashford Global was a united corporation of institutes founded in the year 2011, funded by multiple powerful corporations pooling resources.

Several different colleges for different academic departments were built inside the sprawling campus, and admission to it was notoriously fierce and competitive.

Different people from vastly different backgrounds gathered from all over the world to study here—it was truly international.

After years of undergoing different social changes and power dynamics, the students had created an unspoken but rigidly followed hierarchy among themselves.

Students who came from financially stable households, but weren't overly wealthy, were called middle class—your average doctor's or lawyer's kid.

Promising students with high intellect who enrolled through merit-based scholarships were initially called the lower class, but that term was later changed to the "normal class" after complaints.

Students with genuinely rich backgrounds who didn't have to worry about money at all were simply called high-class—trust fund kids, basically.

And among the high class, there were a select few students who were categorized as "elite" even among the already wealthy high class.

These were mostly second-generation heirs of big-name families and major corporations, usually from the very families who had funded the institute's creation.

Philip was absolutely one such elite.

Being the only heir to the Whitmore family, which owned multiple five-star luxury hotels across the globe, massive real estate holdings, and entire commercial towers in major cities—

Plus, they had private international banks, powerful investment firms, and successful hedge funds. Their multiple interlocking businesses put their name out as one of the most influential families in the entire world.

Still, over seventy percent of students who enrolled at Ashford were middle class and normal class.

Most of them were scholarship students who'd worked incredibly hard to get there.

The sheer amount of talented, driven graduates pumping out of Ashford every year was one of the main reasons it had made its name as one of the absolute best university colleges in the world.