It seemed nothing in my life was going according to my charted-out plan. As I typed out the letter and waited for my old printer to spit the inked paper out, I hoped the letter would be the one destined to work in my favor. All the emails I had sent received the standard auto-response and not a single word more. Now, I hoped and prayed that a physical letter would do the magic needed to get my concerns across…

[To,

Mr. Nicholas Rowe,

I am writing to you directly since every other medium of communication with you regarding the Rowe Scholarship has been blocked and exhausted.

I, Willow Taylor, am currently a student at your alma mater, Atkins High School. Three weeks ago, I received a letter from your employee Julia Reyes which stated that I had been selected as the recipient of your prestigious scholarship. As it is awarded to a final-year student with outstanding scholastic aptitude from Atkins High School, I received the news with great excitement.

Upon realizing that my entire college tuition would be sponsored, I accepted my admission to my first choice of college, Quentin Central University, to start as a first-year student. Further, I sent Quentin Central University a non-refundable deposit for my room and boarding. This has significantly impacted my personal savings, which I have spent the last five years working towards in preparation for the above.

However, a week after I received the news that I had secured the scholarship, I was informed by the same employee, Miss Julia Reyes, that there had been a grave miscommunication. A fellow classmate of mine was the initial recipient of the scholarship. You can imagine that this has crushed me both financially and emotionally.

While it is perfectly understandable that a mishap of this nature can occur in a prestigious enterprise such as yours, I pray that you pay attention to my situation. It would be a great honor if you reassessed the aforementioned circumstance and made an exception and fund both the now-appointed winner and me.

I am including a copy of my most recent scholastic transcripts as well as the original essay submission for the scholarship.

Sincerely,

Willow Taylor]

One painful week passed with me checking the mailbox every few hours in a single day. Finally, at the end of the week, I received a response. I rushed to the front door, threw my bag aside, and ripped the envelope open like a savage. Usually, I was the kind who would carefully take out the contents, but my anxiety made me be at the edge. I opened the letter and read the contents.

[Miss Taylor,

Thank you for your interest in Rowe-Hampton, Inc. We are pleased to report that since the merger with Hampton Entertainment, Rowe-Hampton Incorporated has become one of the leading media institutions in the world. As a company, we engage in the production and marketing of entertainment, information products, and OTT services to a global customer base.

I have included a pamphlet on our charitable vertical in response to your inquiry.

All of us at RHI thank you for your viewership and support.

Regards,

Nicholas Rowe

CEO, Rowe-Hampton, Inc.]

My blood boiled hotter with every word I read. I had gotten a copy-paste response. Even the signature was digitally placed. Meaning, Nicholas hadn't even paid attention to the letter.

After all the hoops I had jumped through! My head was about to explode with the weight of explicits threatening to escape my lips.

They had written off their mistake as miscommunication while my entire future was shrouded in darkness because of it. And they had the gall to treat me like an insect who kept lurking around them without cause. There was no way I would take this slight lying down .

If Nicholas Rowe thought he had gotten rid of it, he was grossly incorrect.

"Can you believe the audacity? What a bunch of nincompoops, all of them," I grumbled.

I had just finished ranting about the contents of the letter I had received the day before to my best friend Lorelei Adams. With only a couple of weeks left before we graduated high school, it was a chore to get up and ready to attend school. But we were driving towards it together. I sat in the passenger of her Dad's old car and cursed the never-ending bad luck.

"You don't need to be at their mercy like this. Just come to Quentin with me and we will figure something out."

I shook my head.

Lory and I had been best friends since we were toddlers. I met her in the neighborhood park in the evening and played with her when my mother was around. We were a year apart but our dreams had lined up. We wanted to get out of Atkins and live in the biggest city in the country… Quentin. The fact that Quentin was over three thousand miles away was considered a bonus, in my opinion.

"I told you already, even if I could get loans on my own, they'd never cover everything." I didn't add that I hated the thought of being knee-deep in debt after graduation. Moreover, no matter how much I tried, I didn't have anything to leverage a loan against. "And I am absolutely not taking any money from your parents." I looked over at her to make sure she understood. I knew she was thinking about it. "No way," I hammered it in.

I had gotten great grades but I still wasn't as good as some of my peers. They had good family backgrounds and more time to study than I had after I worked jobs to save up for college. The fact I was a year older than my peers didn't help either. The only reason I had pushed through all the load was because of Lory. Her enthusiastic and rose-tinted approach to life helped to lighten the gloom that surrounded me at all times.

When we pulled in, she turned to me with a question, "So what do you want to do? What is the plan?"

I could see she was just as stressed about it as I was. I had tried to minimize the damage the blow had on my mental state, but she had caught it nonetheless. We had strung our dreams together as we grew up and though it had changed since we were still hoping to be together. She had been admitted to Havens University, and I was accepted into QCU, both in the same city.

I bit back my tears, unwilling to fall into despair. Lory didn't need to see this.

Everything would have been perfect if I'd received the Rowe Scholarship. I could work a job while taking classes and make enough for my dorm fees. My fists clenched with anger that it was instead going to that piece of turd, Chris Grant. He was headed to the university a stone's throw away from his house. His family could afford his tuition in full and then some. He would probably use the extra money to stock up on alcohol and snacks that would clog his arteries.

I hoped he choked on them. Idiot.

But it was not Grant's fault. He had gone through the same procedure as I had. I could only direct my anger towards Mr. Nicholas Rowe, whose employee made the mistake and I had to pay for it. Mr. High and Mighty, whose employee employees seemed to think it was perfectly acceptable to toy with people's lives and crush their dreams. They promised me everything and then ripped it away, and now they didn't even have the decency to discuss it with me. Even the initial apology had seemed so insincere. That was one of the reasons why I persisted in seeking Mr. Rowe out.

"I have to get in contact with Mr. Rowe." That was the only option I had left.

"And how do you intend on doing that?" Lory asked anxiously.

"I have no idea. But I have to find a way to talk to him." I sighed.

"You mean try to get his non-work email address or phone number?"

I nod at her, feeling determined. "Exactly. I need to get both."