Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 20

Chapter 20- Mr. President

Zatariel Wov
His POV

Somehow, I ended up with the title of Student Council President.

Yay, me. Cue confetti. Cue slow clapping. Cue the existential dread.

One day, I was peacefully minding my own business, just breathing campus air, existing without responsibility, and the next, bam!  Mr. I-Win-Everything shoved the presidential crown onto my unsuspecting head.

Now my life is a glamorous mix of chasing club budgets, hosting events, playing referee in teacher-versus-student cold wars, and investigating a missing student case that my so-called best friend conveniently escalated straight to the palace.

And let's not forget worrying about my dumb cousin, who got involved and somehow ended up in the hospital.

For the record, I've forgotten to eat lunch and dinner for three days straight.

I miss my mom. My sisters. Our emotionally manipulative cat. Our chaotic dog. My dad, who pretends he's chill but definitely isn't. And most of all, my judgment-free bed, which never yells at me for procrastinating.

And Thyron? Oh, he's thriving.

The guy practically polishes his ambition every morning. But when it comes to actual work? He dumped the entire presidency on me with a smile so fake I could hear the plastic in his teeth.

If you're so perfect, Thyron, why don't you be president? Complete the set. Hang another title next to your MVP plaques and oversized ego.

Personally, I'd rather be playing DOTA or spiraling down a YouTube rabbit hole about lizard people running the government. But apparently, I'm "responsible" now.

Who decided that? God? Destiny? Thyron's twisted logic?

Thanks to my soul-crushing schedule, like arguing with Harold, debating with elders who think Gen Z is allergic to hard work, and overseeing a million school projects. I haven't talked to Miexha in days.

Weeks, maybe.

She's been busy too. Always rushing somewhere. And despite being ridiculously cute and talented, her exam scores are... concerning.

Like, "Are-you-okay-do-you-need-a-tutor-or-an-exorcism?" concerning.

It doesn't make sense.

She's pretty. Funny. When she talks about music, she glows. But hand her a math test, and it's like her brain hits airplane mode. She's brilliant, yes, just not in the language the school would consider.

And then there's the Thyron Situation. urrrghh.

She lit up around him. Literally. Like he was a human charger and she was running on 2%.

It made my chest feel weird. Like heartbreak? Maybe indigestion. Possibly both. Love is a scam. I stand by that.

Still... I figured I should talk to her. Maybe apologize. Maybe say, Hey. I miss you. Please don't fall in love with Captain Dumbbell.

She's currently in the library, of all places. Sitting there, reading like the fate of the multiverse depended on chapter seven.

I try to act casual. Relaxed. Definitely not stalking.

My heart, however, is doing that annoying stutter-skip thing again.

Then—

"Exy, have you seen Zat?"

I freeze mid-step.

Zat? That's me. That nickname is reserved for elite members of the inner trust circle. Not for public distribution. Not for outsiders. Definitely not for the girl currently performing for an imaginary camera crew in the middle of the library.