The Myth of Forever

CHAPTER 4

I glanced at Drake, carefully scanning his profile, he's wearing a gray hoodie and a pair of dark jeans. I hadn't expected him to be so tall; he was almost towering over the doorframe, casting a long shadow across the room.

So this was the vice president Gene wanted to pair with me? My instincts kicked in; something about his aura felt off—he seemed too casual, too relaxed. It made me question whether he was truly reliable or serious about this role.

Turning my attention back to his biography, I noticed the glaring gaps in his experience. "He doesn't have enough activities listed here," I suggested, trying to keep my tone light but firm. "Maybe we should look for another profile."

"Hey, you know that I can hear you," Drake replied, his tone playful as he walked toward us. He settled comfortably beside Gene, as if he had already been part of the group for ages.

I raised an eyebrow at his casualness. "That's kind of the point," I shot back, crossing my arms defensively. His ease only added to my uncertainty about him. Did he even realize the weight of the position he was being considered for?

"I'm up for anything," Drake said confidently, fist-bumping Gene with an ease that grated on my nerves. No. I hated his stance. There was something about his demeanor that screamed self-importance, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was full of himself.

"Yay, welcome, Drake!" Bab exclaimed cheerfully, completely oblivious to my reservations.

"Hey, you're not even part of the student council," I interjected, shooting her a disapproving glance.

She waved me off, her enthusiasm undeterred. "I just think he'll be great! Look at him; he has charisma!"

"Yeah, I've heard. Students next semester might pile up for enrollment because of me," he boasted, a cocky grin plastered across his face.

What the hell? Was this for real? This was the kind of vice president I was expected to work with? I shot a glare at Gene, my frustration mounting. He, however, merely looked at me, trying to stifle a smile at Drake's unshakeable self-confidence.

Without thinking, I reached out and pulled Drake's arm, dragging him outside. The air was cooler in the hallway, providing a refreshing contrast to the stuffy atmosphere inside the lounge. I could feel the tension in my shoulders begin to ease slightly as I stepped away from the chatter and laughter.

"Listen," I said, turning to face him, my voice low but firm. "This isn't some popularity contest. You need to take this role seriously."

Drake leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with that infuriatingly relaxed demeanor. "I am taking it seriously. Just trying to lighten the mood, you know?"

"I'll attend the radio station segment for you," he suggested, the hint of a challenge in his tone.

That was such a relief to hear. I felt the tight knot of anxiety in my chest loosen slightly. Maybe he was capable of stepping up after all.

"See? I could be reliable, you know," he added, a playful smirk crossing his face as if he could sense my inner conflict.

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Reliable? You mean if it suits your agenda," I replied, crossing my arms. "But fine, if you can handle it, I won't stop you. Just don't mess it up."

I stepped back into the lounge, the energy in the room shifting as I declared, "We'll have a meeting at 5 PM. Those who can't attend will need to submit 100 ideas to work on this school year." My tone left no room for negotiation.

"Woah, why are you ordering him?" Drake interjected, his cocky grin still plastered on his face. "Why don't you ask him nicely?"

Gene shot a glance between us, trying to gauge the tension. "It's okay, Drake," he said, waving off the comment. He turned his attention back to me, a hint of amusement in his expression. "I'll make sure to relay the message to everyone."