The chairs in the auditorium were unusually cold that morning. The polished wooden planks of the stage glinted under the white ceiling lights, immaculate and almost too formal for the sleepy haze hanging over Adam's eyes.
He sat near the back, third row from the end, far right, slouched in his uniform, blazer open, tie crooked, one shoelace untied and dragging against the floor like a lazy snake. He blinked hard, then yawned into his fist, trying to muffle it.
His legs were sore from the awkward crouch he'd slept in last night, hunched between two bookshelves in the dorm's common room mini library. Reproductive system diagrams were still swimming behind his eyelids, Fallopian tubes, vas deferens, a million arrows pointing at unlabeled organs.
The buzz of idle chatter floated through the auditorium like white noise. Dozens of students shuffled in their seats, yawning, nudging each other, checking the time. Some teachers stood by the walls, arms folded, watching the crowd settle. Morning sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, splashing long streaks of red, yellow, and blue across the room. It looked like someone had spilled paint across a grayscale film.
Adam tapped his thigh nervously. He wasn't just here for the usual announcements and motivational fluff. Something was supposed to happen today. Bryce had told him in passing, between classes, over a bag of chips—that the new student council would be announced. Said it casually, like it wasn't a big deal. But Adam knew better.
The whole process was kinda mysterious. It always started with the current president, this time, Morris. The dude basically handpicked a few names, gave them to admin, and waited to hear if they'd passed the vetting. If more than one did, there'd be an election. If only one? Game over. New president, no contest.
Adam scratched his cheek, eyes narrowing. That's what was odd. Bryce had said Morris only submitted one name. Just one. Like he was so confident the administration wouldn't dare say no. Like he wanted there to be no election. It was gutsy... borderline arrogant.
And then, the lights dimmed.
A spotlight slid across the stage and landed on Morris, standing center-stage in a clean, crimson-red uniform that looked freshly ironed. The school's emblem, a silver crescent moon over a pine tree—glinted from his breast pocket. His buzz afro had been neatly shaped, and his voice was smooth and confident as he gripped the podium.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Students. Faculty. Good morning."
Polite applause followed. A few claps came late, like people had just woken up mid-motion.
"I want to start by saying... thank you. Thank you for giving me the honor to serve as your student council president this past term. It's been a journey, and not always an easy one."
Behind him stood the full council, eighteen members. Minus the five that had been removed, all dressed in matching navy sashes. Bryce stood in the back-left corner, arms behind his back, chin raised slightly. His posture was perfect, his expression unreadable.
"I've watched many of you grow. I've seen challenges faced, battles fought—not just academically, but in the hearts of everyone here. Some days we failed. Others, we rose higher than we thought possible. But through it all, I've been proud. Proud to lead. Proud to serve. And proud to now say..."
He paused. A low murmur swept through the room.
"...I officially dissolve the current student council. Effective immediately."
There was a beat of silence before the applause came. Polite again. Measured. A few students leaned forward, anticipating the next move. Adam blinked, jolted slightly by the finality of it.
Morris turned to shake hands with each council member, starting from one end and ending with Bryce. Then, after a nod of farewell, he stepped aside.
Only Bryce remained.
He walked forward to the podium, footsteps echoing against the wooden stage. Adam could feel the shift. The room had gone quiet, like the air had thickened. Bryce took the mic with a calm, sure grip.
"Good morning," he said, his voice clear and steady. "First off... thank you. To Morris. For being not just a president, but a leader, and a friend. His shoes are big. I don't plan on filling them... I plan on making my own path."
There were a few nods. A girl in the front row clapped once, then awkwardly stopped.
"I know a lot of you weren't expecting this, me standing here. Hell, I wasn't expecting it either. But someone believed in me. And I intend to prove they were right. As the new president, i want to solemnly promise that this term... will be a term to remember."
His smile was dazzling. The kind that could sell toothpaste or win elections.
"Now, I need to address something. Due to... unforeseen circumstances, the student council has been reduced from twenty-two members... to ten."
That broke the room.
Gasps. Whispers. Students turning to each other with open mouths. Even a teacher frowned and began whispering something to the one beside her.
Bryce didn't flinch. He held up his hand for calm.
"I get it. It sounds harsh. But this is a change we need. A tighter team. More efficiency. No excess. The ten people I've selected are the best of the best. And I trust them to bring something fresh, something real."
He turned and picked up a printed sheet from the side of the podium.
"Here are your new council members."
He began listing the names, starting with General Secretary.
"Aiva Brown."
Adam's eyes shot to the front row. Aiva stood slowly, wearing a calm expression. She brushed her braids back over her shoulder and walked to the stage as if she'd rehearsed it. Which she probably had.
Then came the department heads. Discipline and Academics. Health and Environment. One by one, students rose from the front rows and took their place. Adam noticed how calm they were. Not one looked surprised.
They already knew.
Then Bryce announced:
"Head of Sports and Clubs: Damian Salazar. And his deputy..."
There was a pause. Bryce's eyes scanned the room.
"Adam Greene."
Adam froze.
There was a second of dead air. Then someone nudged him. The guy beside him, same year, football team, elbowed him and gestured forward.
"Yo, that's you, man."
Adam's mind blanked. He barely registered the stares as people turned, chairs creaking, eyes all landing on him like searchlights. Some confused, others amused. He stood awkwardly, his blazer crumpled, one sock half-fallen inside his shoe.
Bryce called again, softer:
"Adam."
Adam swallowed. His throat was dry.
As he stepped into the aisle, the slow roll of applause followed. Polite. Prompted. Bryce had raised his hand slightly, cueing them. It felt orchestrated. Scripted.
He walked stiffly down the aisle, heart pounding like a war drum. His face burned. All he could think was:
What the fuck is happening? My shoe's untied. shit! shit!
Bryce stood waiting at the podium, that same charming smile on his face. He extended his hand, and Adam shook it, too hard, too fast. Their palms slapped like wet paper. A few students chuckled.
"Welcome aboard," Bryce whispered, just loud enough for Adam to hear.
Then he turned back to the mic and kept talking, something about initiatives and new projects. But Adam didn't hear any of it, his ears were ringing.
He stood off to the side, behind Aiva, beside a tall girl he barely recognized, his hands clasped awkwardly in front of him. The crowd blurred. His heartbeat was louder than Bryce's voice.
He didn't tell me...
Why didn't he tell me...?
Adam glanced sideways at Bryce.
That smug little cheeky smile.
The one he'd had before assembly started.
It wasn't a prank.
And it wasn't over.
Later in the day, the sky was beginning to burn into a pale orange when the student council room stirred with the soft murmur of voices and shuffling feet. Perched on the highest floor of the administration wing, the new council room felt like a secret lair of the elite. Inside, everything gleamed under the soft glow of concealed lighting.
A long oval table stretched across the room's heart like a polished burgundy spine, its lacquered surface reflecting faces of the ten newly appointed members. The chairs were high-backed, cushioned in dark suede, and spaced with symmetry that made every person feel they had weight and purpose. Twin monitors flanked opposite ends of the room, currently in sleep mode, their black screens dimly reflecting the clean, soft-lit ambiance.
To one side stood a sleek snack bar, glassy black counter, built-in espresso machine, and stacked rows of coffee pods, biscuits, croissants, and energy bars. Beyond it, enormous windows sprawled from ceiling to floor, opening a dramatic panorama of Moonstone Academy.
One could see the sunlit school gardens down below, the stone-paved paths winding between buildings, and farther in the distance, the rooftops of the dormitory houses scattered like orderly settlements along a private road.
Bryce Farren stood at the head of the table, his posture effortlessly poised yet relaxed. He was in his element now, eyes calm, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable but faintly pleased. His voice, rich and composed, had just finished assigning duties to each of the members seated before him.
"That concludes the briefing," he said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "You each have a role to play now. I'm trusting every one of you to live up to the title. No passengers. We're a lean team now, only ten of us. That makes every seat vital."
Next to him sat Aiva. She wore a smart black blazer with her signature amulet still visible under her collar. Her notebook was pristine, pen poised between her fingers like a dagger. She turned a page, glanced around at the council with a finality in her gaze, and then spoke clearly:
"First official meeting of the reformed Student Council, marked and logged. Date: Wednesday, 28th of September. Time: 16:00 hours. One member absent."
There was a beat of silence. Eyes shifted subtly toward the empty seat near the far end. Aiva didn't look at Bryce, but she didn't need to. Everyone could guess.
"Meeting adjourned," Bryce said with a nod.
Chairs creaked and scraped as students gathered their notes and bags. Mutters of polite farewells and casual comments filled the air before the room steadily emptied. The door clicked shut after the last member left, leaving only Bryce and Aiva in the spacious chamber.
Bryce stepped away from the table, walking toward the snack bar. He moved with a slow deliberateness, fingers brushing across the polished surface as he picked out a pod and slipped it into the espresso machine.
"Just as I thought," he said, eyes watching the machine hum to life. "I had a feeling he wouldn't show."
"Adam," Aiva replied, already knowing.
Bryce nodded, pouring the espresso into a small ceramic cup. He added a bit of cream, stirring absentmindedly. "I told him this morning. I gave him time. But I knew he wouldn't come."
Aiva turned in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. "Do you know where he is now?"
He sipped from his cup, the steam rising lazily into his face. "I've got a pretty good guess."
***
The shrill squeak of rubber soles on polished wood echoed through the massive gymnasium.
Adam was a blur of movement under the gym lights, his shirt clinging to his torso with sweat, shoes darting left and right as he slipped past a defender and launched a clean pass across the court. A whistle blew, signaling the end of the play.
Coach Barlow, short, stocky, and always wearing a faded cap, paced to the center of the court, blowing the whistle again.
"Bring it in!"
The team gathered, forming a circle around him, panting and gulping water from their bottles. Adam collapsed cross-legged, wiping his forehead with the hem of his shirt.
Coach gave them a once-over before speaking. "Good work out there today. Some of y'all looked like wolves. Hungry. Fast. I like that."
His eyes scanned the group and stopped on Adam. "Special shoutout to Adam over here. Big improvement. That's the kind of fire I want to see."
Adam blinked in surprise but gave a quick nod. He tried to hide the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Coach turned more serious. "Now, reminder, Saturday's tournament. Don't sleep on it. The Golden Wolves don't lose, and we ain't about to start now. College scouts will be watching. You show heart, they remember that."
He pulled two printed pages from his clipboard. "Roster's here. Two copies. Y'all know the drill."
He passed them out, and like hungry dogs the players rushed to huddle around, fingers trailing down names, scanning for validation.
Adam's heart thudded in his chest. He squinted through the blur of sweat in his eyes, fingers trembling as he found the list… and there it was. "Sun Bench."
His breath came out in a relieved sigh. It wasn't first-five glory, but it wasn't nothing either. He had a place. He had a shot. He'd earned this.
Coach clapped his hands. "Hit the showers, boys. Go home proud."
The group began to disperse, laughter and grumbles echoing as they made their way to the locker room. Adam lingered, walking slower, letting the moment breathe.
He peeled off his damp shirt, stuffed it in his duffle bag, and splashed water on his face. By the time he stepped out, the gym was mostly empty, except for one figure sitting alone in the bleachers.
Bryce.
Still in his school blazer, his legs crossed casually, one hand resting on the bleacher rail.
Adam paused, shoulders tightening.
He walked over.
"Didn't I make myself clear?" Adam said, swinging the duffle onto his shoulder. "I said I don't want any part in this council crap."
Bryce smiled faintly, tilting his head. "That's not exactly what you said. Yesterday, at lunch, you said you'd think about it."
Adam huffed. "And I didn't make a decision, now did I?"
"Nope," Bryce replied, rising to his feet. "But it wasn't a no either. And I'm a hopeful guy. So I acted on the chance it might be yes."
Adam narrowed his eyes. "And what if I say it's a no now?"
Bryce walked past him toward the exit. "Then I'll say it's too late."
Adam turned to follow. "I'll cause trouble. Make you regret putting me there."
Bryce glanced over his shoulder, voice still calm. "You're not that kind of person, Adam. You're a lot of things, but not a saboteur. Deep down, you were meant to lead."
Adam scoffed. "Your political charisma tricks won't work on me."
"Wasn't trying to trick you," Bryce replied with a shrug. "Just saying. The credit you get from being on council? It's gold. Ivy Leagues love leaders. Applications light up when they see council experience. People kill for a shot like this. I just gave it to you on a silver platter. And you're really gonna throw it away?"
He strolled off, not waiting for an answer.
Adam stood there, watching him walk through the gym doors, words echoing in his mind. Silver platter… Ivy League… meant to lead.
He hesitated for a second. Then he jogged forward, catching up.
"I don't know the first thing about being on student council."
Bryce raised a brow. "You would if you came to the meeting."
Adam smirked despite himself.
"Come on," Bryce said, nudging him forward. "We'll walk. I'll fill you in."
They headed out together, side by side, fading into the early evening light.