Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 93

Chapter 93 — Wayne Academy Silver Island Field Trip — Day 3, Evening

Soft classical music drifted through the restaurant, weaving beneath the hum of conversation and the delicate clink of silverware against porcelain.

The lights had dimmed just enough. Just enough to make the massive aquarium walls glow.

Outside the glass, schools of neon fish drifted past like living jewels, their colors pulsing gently in the dark water. Occasionally, something larger passed behind them.

At one table, however, the atmosphere was... complicated.

Jayson exhaled slowly, the kind of sigh that came from years of tolerating chaos in human form.

Across from him, Asha was chewing like a tragic heroine in the final act of a play.

"Can you please chew like a normal person?" Jayson muttered, not even looking up from his drink.
"I am not performing the Heimlich maneuver because you decided to perish by scallop."

Asha didn't respond immediately. She stared at her plate as it had personally betrayed her.

Then, softly—

"Let me suffer, bro," she whispered.
"Let me mourn in seafood."

Jayson closed his eyes. "Unbelievable."

Across from them, Miexha's small hand trembled under the pristine white tablecloth.

But then Zatariel's hand found hers. No hesitation this time.

His fingers curled gently around her own, steady, grounding—like he was anchoring her back into the moment.

She looked up.

The shifting glow of jellyfish light reflected in his eyes, turning them into something softer, something quieter.

He gave her a small, almost awkward smile.

She smiled back.

Just a moment— The noise faded.

Just two teenagers, sitting too close, secretly holding hands under a table.

But elsewhere, the room turned colder.

Section 8 sat tucked into a far corner, their table half-hidden in shadow.

Velvet chairs. Crystal glasses. And tension thick enough to choke on.

Clarisse leaned back in her seat, posture loose but eyes sharp—like someone who had already decided the ending of a story.

Her drink remained untouched, swirling slowly as her fingers tapped against the glass.

Around her, the other girls sat stiffly, their earlier arrogance dulled into something quieter.

Something uneasy.

They followed her gaze, straight to Miexha.

"She's not special," Clarisse said softly. "I know her secret."

No one spoke.

"I'm not a bully," she continued, tilting her glass slightly, watching the liquid catch the light.
"I slapped her because someone had to."

A pause. "All her life, she's been coddled. Protected. Treated like some rare little orchid."

Her lips curved. "But she's just a monster in disguise."

One of the girls shifted uncomfortably.

"Clarisse... maybe just—leave it. We already got disqualified—"