The sound of footsteps filled the marble-floored hallway like a tide rolling in. Leather soles, rubber sneakers, boots that squeaked with each stride, there was a rhythm to it, a kind of sleepy Monday morning shuffle, as students streamed toward the auditorium in their uniforms, murmuring half-formed complaints under breath.
The warm scent of starch and cologne floated in the air, undercut by the more subtle, bitter sting of cheap school-issued cleaning fluid.
Adam walked with his hands in his blazer pockets, his tie knotted loosely around his neck. His hair, still slightly damp from the rushed shower earlier, clung to his forehead in stubborn strands.
Monday, September twenty-sixth, he thought dryly, mentally flipping the calendar forward. One week closer to midterms. One more Monday I'm not ready for.
He glanced up as a few more students turned into the main hallway and joined the crowd. Bryce walked just behind him, yawning loud enough to draw an annoyed glare from a prefect.
A couple of classmates tagged along too, Jasper with his earbuds dangling, and Nia scrolling her phone despite the strict no-devices rule. None of them spoke much. Just the usual morning haze.
The air changed slightly as they passed through the grand wooden doors into the school auditorium. There was a slight electric chill to it, like walking into a room that held so much weight, A room where traditions were kept, art was shared, and news was spread.
Adam felt it. He couldn't name it exactly, but he sensed it in the way the teachers stood at the back, arms folded. The way the rows were already half full and unusually quiet. The way the student council members gathered off to the side in their matching blazers, speaking in hushed tones.
"Something's up," Bryce muttered under his breath as they took seats near the front. "They never make us sit this far forward unless it's serious."
Adam nodded absently. "Yeah. Shouldn't you be with the other members?"
"Yeah. I just don't feel like it today." Bryce rubbed his forearms. "Good to just be a student sometimes."
The massive burgundy curtains behind the stage rustled slightly, then parted with an old mechanical groan. Out stepped Hakeem Morris, the student council president.
The room fell quiet. Not the usual hush. This one had weight.
Hakeem walked calmly to the podium, posture upright, a man far too composed for a high school senior. His deep crimson blazer was pristine, badge shining under the dim spotlight that illuminated the stage. He adjusted the mic with a practiced hand and cleared his throat once.
Tap-tap.
A feedback crackle jolted through the auditorium as the light dimmed and a spot light lit.
He began.
"Good morning," he said, voice smooth and clear, echoing into the stillness. "I'm aware most of you would prefer to be in class or better yet, back in bed. But I ask for your full attention."
His eyes scanned the crowd slowly. They didn't smile. They didn't soften. They simply looked, and in that silence, you could hear a pin drop.
Adam sat up a little straighter.
"This past Saturday," Morris continued, "an unsanctioned gathering was held just off school grounds. A party, attended by several Moonstone students, some of whom hold, or held, positions of trust within this institution. Not only was the party in violation of school policy, but it also resulted in reckless behavior, injuries, and unfortunately... the involvement of the local police."
Gasps and murmurs followed that.
Adam blinked. He hadn't expected this to reach the assembly stage, let alone this quickly.
"Because of these events," Morris went on, "disciplinary measures have been reviewed and approved by the administration. And as Student Council President, it is my duty to enforce them."
He looked down, unfolded a sheet of paper, and spoke clearly into the mic.
"The following students will now come forward: Lian Ryker. Amelia West. Donovan Taye. Felix Monroe. And Kaleb Darren."
There was a murmur of whispers. The crowd turned to watch as five students stood up from different sections of the hall, walking slowly to the stage. Adam recognized the last name immediately. Kaleb, the guy who had nearly started a fight with him for talking to Sasha at the party.
All of them were older. Third years. Faces taut with apprehension.
Morris waited for them to stand in a straight line beside him before he spoke again.
"These five are not only confirmed as central figures in the organization of the party, but they are also, until today members of the Student Council. That position carries responsibility, and where responsibility is abused, consequence must follow."
He turned slightly, facing them directly now.
"By the authority vested in me, and with full administrative backing... you are hereby removed from your positions within the Student Council."
The words hit like a silent slap.
The murmurs turned into gasps, stunned glances flying around the room. One girl covered her mouth. One of the five, Amelia looked like she might cry. Kaleb's jaw tensed, but he didn't flinch.
"And further," Morris added, "the following disciplinary actions apply. Amelia West, Felix Monroe, and Lian Ryker: you are each suspended for a period of three weeks, effective immediately. Additionally, a twenty-percent deduction will be applied to your cumulative assessment scores."
Felix muttered a curse under his breath.
Adam swallowed. That was brutal, but fair. Maybe.
Morris's voice hardened. "Kaleb Darren and Donovan Taye, due to existing disciplinary records, your actions constitute grounds for permanent expulsion."
That dropped like a bomb.
The entire auditorium was stunned into stillness.
Kaleb blinked once. His eyes glazed, but he stood tall. Donovan took a step back before regaining composure. Neither spoke.
Adam's heart pounded. He wasn't sure why, but watching this unfold—watching Morris wield power like a guillotine, sent a strange chill down his back. How much authority did the student council have here?
"These actions are final," Morris said. "They are not up for debate."
A brief silence.
Then he looked at the sheet again. "For the rest of you... those who attended the party will also face consequences. Attendance at an illegal event, regardless of role, is a violation. Therefore, a 20% deduction will be applied to the midterm scores of all present at the party."
Groans echoed through the room now. People buried their faces. Some cursed under their breath. A few even chuckled nervously, trying to mask the panic.
The student council secretary, a composed, cute-looking girl with a braided ponytail and clipboard in hand, stepped forward and handed Morris a long list.
Morris raised the paper like it weighed bricks and began reading.
Name after name. Dozens of them. The list felt endless.
Adam held his breath.
He waited.
And waited.
But his name never came.
Bryce leaned in. "Wait, you're not on it?"
Adam gave a faint shrug. "I guess... not."
Then, as if reading his mind, Morris looked back to the crowd.
"There is, however, one student who has been officially exempted from these sanctions," he announced.
Adam's stomach dropped.
"Adam Greene."
Every head turned.
His cheeks burned as whispers erupted all around him. Bryce grinned wide. Jasper smirked and muttered, "Look at you, golden boy."
Morris's voice rang out again. "Adam Greene, due to your actions during the incident, particularly in saving the life of another student, you have been recognized by both the Council and the Administration. You are hereby pardoned from any penalties. Furthermore, you are to be commended."
Applause broke out. Not enthusiastic. Not hostile. Just... polite. Confused.
Adam sank lower in his seat, heart thudding. He wished the ground would swallow him whole.
"Adam," Morris called. "Please come to the stage."
He wanted to refuse. Wanted to say no thanks and just slink out a side door.
But he stood.
Walked stiffly up the aisle as the crowd parted for him. The bright overhead lights made everything feel twice as real, twice as sharp. His shoes echoed on the stage steps as he accepted a formal, printed certificate from Morris's outstretched hand.
They shook hands.
Morris leaned in slightly. "You earned it," he murmured. "Stand proud."
Adam nodded once, unsure how to feel.
Then Morris turned to the mic again. "Please welcome Madam Principal Bellhart."
The silence that followed was different this time. Tighter.
The curtains parted again, and Principal Bellhart stepped onto the stage, tall, composed, and dressed in a deep green blazer over black slacks. Her silver hair was pinned back in her usual braid. She never attended assemblies. Not unless something serious was brewing.
When she spoke, her voice was calm but firm.
"I won't waste your time," she said. "This is not merely about discipline. There's something else, something the school feels you must be made aware of."
Every breath held. Every rustle stopped.
"We've received unconfirmed reports," she continued, "of unidentified supernatural activity in the outskirts of Moonstone. Creatures. Entities. Nothing verified... but enough to warrant caution."
She paused.
Adam felt his skin prickle.
"Therefore, effective immediately, the following rules are now in place for the safety of all students."
She raised a hand and counted them off.
"One: Curfew will now be enforced at 10PM. Every student must be inside their designated dormitory by that time. The student council, under President Morris, will conduct checks."
"Two: Students wishing to leave campus over the weekend must be picked up in person by a parent or legal guardian. No exceptions. In addition security around the school will be tightened, so don't be suprised if you see extra armed guards. They're here for your safety"
"And three..." She scanned the room. "Anyone found violating these protocols will face serious consequences."
She let the words hang.
Then, quietly:
"Stay vigilant. Study hard. Dismissed."
The assembly ended like a snapped thread. No cheers. No laughter. Just the sound of feet as the students shuffled about and a low tide of murmuring students, all carrying a weight they hadn't walked in with.
Adam walked back to class, certificate in hand, Bryce trailing behind him with wide eyes.
"You're a damn hero now," Bryce said, nudging him. "Kind of hot."
Adam chuckled but didn't answer.
Because somewhere, deep inside, he didn't feel like a hero.
***
The lunchroom buzzed with the usual midday chaos, the clatter of trays, the murmur of overlapping conversations, the occasional high-pitched laughter echoing off the high ceilings. Despite the noise, the corner table by the far window felt like a quiet island carved out for just four people.
Sunlight poured through the tall arched windows, casting long golden rays across the table where Adam, Bryce, Aiva, and Morris sat. Their meals were halfway eaten, fries dipped idly in sauce, rice stirred with plastic forks, drinks sweating on the trays.
The air smelled of cafeteria food: bland but oddly comforting. The four of them sat with a strange ease, like soldiers taking a break between battles.
"So," Aiva said, popping a carrot stick into her mouth, "guess who now has to study like her life depends on it?" She chewed dramatically. "Me. Because someone decided to slap a 20% deduction on our midterm scores."
Bryce snorted. "It's not that bad. You're a brainiac. You'll probably just end up beating us with a smaller margin."
Morris chuckled, the sound low and smooth in his deep voice. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that," he said, pushing a spoon around in his mashed potatoes. "Believe me, if the police hadn't gotten involved, I could've kept the whole thing under wraps."
Adam blinked at that, brows rising slightly. Aiva gave Morris a sideways look. "Wait… you really would've just let it go?"
"Of course," Morris replied calmly, leaning back in his seat, voice carrying just enough weight to be honest but not too loud to invite eavesdroppers. "Wouldn't be the first time. Besides, no one got hurt bad, except maybe, Brandon. And we could have made a fake story for that. Not to mention the student council was already in on it. But once the authorities stepped in, and trust me, they reported it straight to the principal, the administration had to make an example."
Bryce shook his head, sipping his soda. "Of course they did. Gotta save face. Nothing says 'we're in control' like punishing the students hardest."
Adam quietly scooped up the last of his rice, chewing slowly as he watched the group exchange glances. The mood hadn't turned sour exactly, but a little more thoughtful. The gravity behind Morris' calm tone hinted at more than just damage control.
Morris sighed, clearly debating with himself for a second before leaning forward, elbows resting on the table. His eyes swept the group. "I'm only telling you this because I trust you guys," he said, voice quieter now. "This should stay between us."
All three heads turned toward him with varying degrees of interest. Adam kept chewing. Bryce's eyes narrowed a little. Aiva tilted her head.
Morris didn't wait for confirmation. "Because some of the council members were directly involved in the party," he said, "the administration blames the large size of the council. Claims the president is unable to control his people. So they've decided to shrink the student government. Starting with next term."
Bryce blinked. "Wait—what?"
"They want the council smaller," Morris said, speaking directly to him now. "Fewer people, less potential for… chaos, I guess. It's mostly symbolic, but still. Ten members."
"Ten?!" Aiva gasped, sitting up straighter. "That's more than half!"
Adam glanced between them but didn't speak. He could tell by their reactions that this was a big deal. He'd only recently started paying attention to the whole council structure, and even then, it was mostly because he kept getting dragged into drama orbiting it.
'The council must have had alot of members' Adam thought.
Bryce was clearly stunned. "And here I thought you were grooming me to handle the same structure you did," he said to Morris.
"I was," Morris replied. "But times change. The administration's breathing down our necks. They want control, not competence."
"Great," Aiva muttered. "So we're just… tightening the noose for no reason."
Morris shrugged faintly. "It's still salvageable. A tight team, the right people. We make it work." He looked around again, his smile faint but real. "That's why I'm asking for help."
Adam's attention sharpened.
"Curfew watch," Morris said casually, as if it were nothing serious. "Administration wants extra eyes and ears during evening hours. Not a full patrol, just… presence. I'm recruiting people I can count on. I've already got a few signed up, but I'd love to have familiar faces."
"I'm in," Aiva said instantly, scooting her tray aside. "I feel safer doing something than just locking my doors and praying."
Bryce gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Why not? Can't let you two get eaten out there alone."
"Why can't the student council handle it?" Adam asked curiosuly.
"Most of the council members are third years and we're to busy preparing for the graduation and finals. So what do you say?"
Everyone turned to Adam, who hadn't said a word since Morris brought this up. He swallowed the last of his food, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and offered a noncommittal shrug.
"I think I'll pass," he said, tone polite but distant. "Not really my thing."
Morris smiled again, that warm-but-knowing kind of smile Adam was starting to associate with trouble. "Fair enough," he said. "But, uh…" He trailed off, eyes narrowing ever so slightly in amusement. "This might sound crazy, especially after what you just said."
Adam looked up from where he was folding his napkin. "Yeah?"
"I want you to join the student council," Morris said. "When Bryce becomes president."
There was a beat of silence.
Adam stared at him, then let out a short, startled laugh. "You're kidding."
But Morris wasn't laughing. He just held Adam's gaze with a steady expression, almost unreadable except for the faint trace of sincerity behind his eyes.
"You're not kidding," Adam said, the smile falling slowly from his face.
"You've got potential," Morris said plainly. "Leadership's not about wanting the spotlight. It's about what you do when people are watching, and more importantly, when they're not."
Adam looked away, suddenly feeling the heat of the sun through the windows a little too strongly on the side of his neck. He stood up, collecting his tray. "I'll… think about it."
Morris nodded, undeterred. "No rush. Council selection isn't till Wednesday. Just keep it in mind."
"I will," Adam lied, turning toward the tray return station.
Behind him, the conversation at the table picked up again, but his thoughts had already drifted elsewhere.
The quiet of the classroom later that afternoon was a blessing.
The ticking wall clock, the soft rustle of pages, and the faint humming from the overhead lights blended into a dull lullaby as Adam sat at his desk, textbooks open in front of him. Outside the window, clouds drifted lazily across the sky.
He didn't even notice Luna slip into the seat beside him until she dropped her book onto the desk with a soft thump.
"You gonna join?" she asked, eyes still on her textbook.
Adam blinked, turning slowly. "Join what?"
"The student council," Luna said, flipping a page.
Adam gave her a look. "Were you eavesdropping?"
"You guys weren't exactly whispering," she replied dryly. "Also, I have excellent hearing."
He smirked, leaning back. "Stalker much?"
Luna raised a brow, still not looking at him. "Says the guy who's constantly sketching people from behind bushes."
Adam chuckled, looking down at his notes. "Touché."
They sat in silence for a while, only the sound of pencil scribbles and page turning between them.
Then Luna spoke again, her voice low. "You should do it."
Adam glanced at her. "Why?"
"Because you're meant to be a leader," she said without hesitation. "And the longer you run from that, the more of an identity crisis you'll stumble into without even realizing it."
Adam frowned. "You really think you know me that well?"
Luna finally looked at him. Her eyes were calm, steady. "I know enough."
He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off, voice flat and blunt: "Do you really want to live in the shadows forever?"
He hesitated.
Then she smirked, tilted her head, and dropped the bomb.
"Doesn't suit you, 'nigga'."
Adam's eyes widened. "Luna!"
"What?" she asked innocently, going back to her book. "You're the one acting like you can blend into the walls."
He stared at her in disbelief for a second, mouth half-open, and then, slowly, he laughed. A real laugh. Soft, a little breathless.
She didn't laugh with him. Just kept reading.
But her point had landed.
He glanced back at his open book but wasn't really seeing the words anymore.
What if she was right? What if he was made for more than just surviving? More than just… hiding?
His father would probably love the idea. A leader, standing up, doing the right thing. Maybe this was the next step. Maybe it was a way to prove himself.
To the school.
To his dad.
To himself.
But was that really him?
Was it ever?
Adam sat still in his seat, eyes unfocused, lost in thought.
The clock ticked on.
The sunlight drifted across the floor, shadows shifting with time.
And somewhere deep inside him, the decision began to stir, not formed, not spoken. But rising.
Waiting.
Watching.