The layers of Kaid Isherwood (The 1st book in the 'Layers' series)

Chapter 8

Once again, I was rudely awakened by Lucan. I squinted at him through bleary eyes as he stood there, perfectly composed, tying his tie with the precision of a man who had never experienced the cruel injustice of an early morning.

"Do you know anything about the Student Council President?" he asked, his voice cutting through my groggy haze. I rubbed my eyes, wishing I could rewind time to the point where I was still blissfully unaware that mornings like this existed.

"Well, I know he's known as Mr. Student Council President," I muttered, my voice thick with sleep, "and I also know he voted on a decree to not ask me questions. His vote was the decisive one, by the way. So, yeah, that's about all anyone knows about him." I said this with my usual stoic expression, though on the inside, I was grinning like a maniac. The absurdity of it all amused me greatly.

"Wouldn't the Student Council know more about him?" Lucan asked, leaning against the doorframe, trying to coax me out of my semi-comatose state. I blinked at the ceiling, wondering if I could fall back asleep right where I was.

"Nope," I replied, with a touch of finality, "They've never met him. We know he's either a senior or a junior, but we're not entirely sure which one. And, really, that's it."

Lucan's eyes narrowed as he walked toward me. "At least pretend you're awake. If you don't, I'll end up carrying you again," he said, looking at me with that all-too-familiar smugness.

"If you carry me," I shot back, now fully turning my head to face him, "I'll punch you in the face when I wake up." I stood up slowly, making sure to stretch out the kinks in my body. "But, hey, I do need my daily shower, so I'll be awake eventually. I might even change my hair color. We'll see." I grabbed some random clothes from the pile on the floor and started heading for the bathroom.

Lucan raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing Mr. Student Council President came by here?" he asked, holding up a piece of paper with a note on it.

"Yep," I replied, glancing over at the paper in his hand. "Guess he wants you on his side. Be careful, though. He's got more fangirls than any human should ever have. If they get their hands on that letter, they'll find a way to trace him down. They'll fingerprint it, analyze the ink, probably run a DNA test on it, too. It's insane." I walked into the bathroom as I spoke, my voice trailing off.

I wasn't exaggerating. Mr. Student Council President had an absurdly large and equally terrifying fanbase. Millina had filled me in on the details—apparently, ten girls in her dorm alone were part of some insane fan club dedicated to the guy. It was disturbing, to say the least. And the worst part? Millina didn't even know I was Mr. SCP (Student Council President). She just thought the fan club was nuts, and honestly, I couldn't disagree with her. The thought of what they would do if they knew my secret sent shivers down my spine.

I made the decision to dye my hair Fuchsia. It was one of the wild colors I had bought the other day, and it felt like the right choice. Who needs subtlety when you can look like a walking neon sign? I had long since decided that if I was going to dye my hair any outrageous color, it would be a color that looked like Barney threw up on my head. And when I did it, I'd make sure it looked absolutely amazing. No half-measures here.

Was it a great decision? Eh, probably not. But, then again, when it came to making decisions, I wasn't exactly the best judge. I had perfected the art of avoiding leaving my dorm. I only ventured out when it was absolutely necessary, or when something was important enough to pry me away from my cozy cave. But my hair? That, I could rock.

After the shower, I felt like a new person. All the knots in my back had miraculously disappeared. Honestly, spending hours hunched over on a staircase probably wasn't the best idea, but I didn't exactly lose any sleep over it. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked out of the bathroom. By now, everyone else was long gone—no surprises there. It took a while to dye your hair and unwind in the shower, and people in my dorm had no patience for that sort of thing.

Now, I just needed to eat and find something to occupy my time. I couldn't really find a phone game that intrigued me, so I ended up doing what I always do: listening to music. I was absolutely obsessed with it. There's something about the way music flows that just captivates me. I turned it on, closed my eyes, and let the beats wash over me. Before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep. No dreams—just the sound of music echoing in my head. And you know what? I didn't mind one bit. Music was my escape. It was better than any phone game, and a lot less stressful than trying to figure out how to win some dumb game.

A loud pinging sound jolted me awake. I groggily grabbed my phone. It was an email from Mina Stightson, the Student Council Vice President. I tapped the notification eagerly, ready to see what the Student Council President had been up to today.

Dear Mr. Student Council President,

Lucan Ashworth has visited the Council room. While he hasn't confirmed his membership, he was making sure the letter you sent was authentic. After his confirmation, I have destroyed the letter to ensure it doesn't fall into the hands of his crazy fangirls. We cannot afford to let them get ahold of it.

Best regards,
Mina Stightson,
Vice President, Student Council

Mina always had the perfect email format. Straight to the point, no fluff. I appreciated that. It didn't waste my time, and lord knows, I didn't have time to waste. Some people—some people who somehow managed to get my email address—did not understand the importance of brevity. That kind of thing really ticked me off.