Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – The First Note

Zatariel Wov
His POV

June 7, 2011 – First Day at Wayne Academy

It felt like just yesterday I was celebrating middle school graduation with a lukewarm Coke and a medal that said "First Honor."

And now, here I am.

My first day of high school.

Seriously, who hit fast-forward on my life?

Two months of glorious nothingness vanished in a blink! I didn't even finish the game I was grinding or binge the anime I kept lying to myself I'd start "tomorrow."

Now here I am, ignoring the speech number four of what felt like a bees buzzing into my ear while I slouch on a plastic chair in the freezing auditorium.

"Blah blah, welcome to Wayne Academy. Blah blah, excellence. Blah blah, values."

Principal Sebastian's "Vision and Mission" monologue was long enough to qualify as an audiobook. I zoned out somewhere between "lifelong learners" and "global citizens," mentally switching to Call of Duty mode—strategizing loadouts, imagining flanking routes. Why am I even here, when I am supposed to be in my bedroom playing with my buddies. tsk.

Oh yeah, High school, I decided, was just another campaign. Probably on Hard Mode.
More quest. Less respaaaawn. "yawn"

And then............

"And now, from the Top 1 of this batch... Zatariel Wov!"

Wait....... What?

I blinked fast trying to process.

Did I mishear it? Or did she really call me on stage? Ah... I felt their gazes in my direction. I guess she really did mention me.

"Shit," I really don't wanna get up.

Why me? WHY???!!!

Damn, those people started clapping. The girl in the bonnet beside me gave me a thumbs-up.

Fantastic. Now I had to go up there and talk shit.

I had prepared absolutely nothing. Zero. Nada.... honestly I believed Jayson would outperform me on the entrance exam. He told me that he did well on the test... But that traitor—

I shot him a deadly glare as I passed his seat. Oh, the traitor couldn't even face me. He just looked away, giggling like he didn't just shatter my expectations.

The emcee handed me the mic with a smile that screamed, "Good luck, kid."

I gripped the mic like it was my last lifeline. My palms were soaked. My heartbeat was louder than the auditorium's busted speakers, like literally.

I stared out at a sea of strangers, all waiting for the "Top 1" to say something profound. Inspiring maybe. Something life-changing. No pressure or anything comforting.

Meanwhile, I felt like a default avatar stuck in a laggy loading screen—mentally buffering. Mind completely blank. Seconds away from saying something that might actually make the principal faint.

I cleared my throat.

"To our beloved Director, Mrs. Cienna Verra... Principal Jenna Sebastian... Deans... Teachers... Guests... and, um... all 128 fellow freshmen... good morning."

Nice. Formal. Not comedic... yet.

I took a shaky breath.

"So... today's the start of our high school journey. We're supposed to look back on this moment someday and say, 'Ah yes. The day it all began.'"