[Editing]

A sharp voice cut through the chatter like a blade.

"Wow. Handbags and Instagram likes. Such profound contributions to society," Jacklyn said, her words dripping with sarcasm and disdain. "I'm sure history books will be written about this table."

The room fell into a momentary hush as her gaze swept over the table, daring someone to challenge her. No one did. They never did.

The others exchanged uneasy glances, brushing off her comment with forced laughter, as though her words were a harmless joke. They were used to Jacklyn's bluntness. After all, we had been "friends" since primary school, and this was simply part of her fiery personality.

Ah, Jacklyn Yae. Fiery, unpredictable, and brutally honest. Her family's star power made her indispensable to my mother's plans, which meant I had to endure her sharp tongue and volatile moods. She was a double-edged sword. Dangerous but one my mother insisted I wield carefully.

As the brunch wound down, the girls began gathering their Hermès and Chanel handbags, exchanging air kisses and perfectly curated goodbyes.

"I'll see you all at the gala!" Lia called out, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she sauntered toward the door.

I lingered my smile still perfectly in place. When the last of them turned to leave, I made my move.

"Jacklyn," I called softly, my tone as sweet as jasmine tea. "Would you mind staying for a moment? I have something I wanted to discuss with you."

She stopped mid-step, her curiosity piqued. Turning back to face me, her expression softened just enough to show intrigue. 

"Sure," she said, setting her designer bag back down on the chair. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to check in with you," I began. "You've seemed a little... tense lately. Is everything alright?"

Jacklyn blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden concern. "Tense? Nah, I'm fine. Just... a lot of stuff going on, I guess."

"Stuff?" I tilted my head, letting an air of sincerity cloak my words. "You know you can tell me anything, right? We're friends, after all."

For a moment, her expression faltered, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her face, though she quickly masked it with a nonchalant laugh.

"It's nothing I can't handle."

I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial murmur. 

"You're so strong, Jacklyn. Honestly, I admire that about you. You're not afraid to say what's on your mind or put people in their place. It's refreshing."

A faint flush colored her cheeks, though she tried to shrug off the compliment. 

"Someone's gotta keep things interesting around here."

"True," I agreed, letting a soft chuckle slip through. "But I've noticed you seem to have a particular... focus when it comes to Audrey. She's been on the receiving end of your attention more than anyone else lately."

Her expression darkened slightly. "Audrey's just... annoying. Always acting like she's better than everyone else. I can't stand her."

I made a sympathetic noise, reaching out to place a light hand on her arm. 

"That must be exhausting for you. Always having to deal with her. But..." I let the pause hang just long enough to pique her curiosity.

"But what?" she prompted, her tone sharp but interested.

"Well, I just wonder if she's worth your time. Someone as amazing as you shouldn't have to lower yourself to deal with someone like her. You know, I've always believed that holding onto anger only gives the other person power over you. But maybe that's just me."

Jacklyn's brows knitted together, her gaze dropping to the table as she mulled over my words. "What are you saying?"

"I'm just saying," I continued, letting my tone grow honeyed, "maybe you don't have to do anything at all. People like Audrey... they always trip over their own feet eventually. And Jacklyn, is bullying her really worth it? It doesn't make you look stronger. If anything, it makes it seem like you're still stuck in the past."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze distant.

"Someone like you doesn't need to prove anything to anyone," I added gently. "You've already got the upper hand. Why waste your energy on her?"

Her lips twitched upward, and I thought I saw a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. "Thanks, Desiree. You're... alright."

My smile widened, perfectly serene, though inside, I was already thinking several steps ahead. 

"Anytime, Jacklyn. That's what friends are for."

As she walked away, I remained seated, my composure unbroken.

It was almost too easy.

Stepping outside, the crisp air greeted me, carrying the scent of falling leaves and faint hints of smoke from distant chimneys. My steps faltered as I noticed a familiar figure by the sidewalk, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.

Hansel... again.

Her blotchy, tear-streaked face was hard to miss, and something inside me hesitated. The old me would have brushed this off or seen it as an opportunity to gain favor. But Wallace's words lingered in my mind, stinging more than I wanted to admit.

You look lonely, even when you're surrounded by people.

I wasn't sure why I cared, but something urged me to approach. Perhaps it was my own desire to prove him wrong, or maybe to prove something to myself.

Taking a slow breath, I walked toward Hansel, my heels clicking softly against the pavement.

"Here," I said as I pulled a delicate handkerchief from my bag and held it out to her. "You should really take better care of yourself, Hansel."

Her tear-filled eyes lifted to meet mine, red and swollen from crying. Trembling fingers reached for the handkerchief as she whispered, "Thanks... I just... I don't know what's happening to me." 

She clutched the fabric tightly, as if it might somehow hold her together.

I offered her a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay. Bad days happen to everyone. Just don't let them take over."

Hansel sniffled, dabbing at her face with the handkerchief. Then, almost as if a switch flipped, her expression brightened slightly.

"You know what? I could really use some ice cream right now. I saw that new shop just down the street. Want to come with me?"

Her sudden shift caught me off guard, but I found myself nodding before I could think twice. 

"Sure," I said, surprised by the sincerity in my own voice. "That sounds nice."

The pastel-colored signs of the ice cream shop glowed softly in the evening light as we entered. Hansel picked a swirl of strawberry and vanilla, a reflection of her attempt to uplift herself. I chose a rich chocolate cone, the comforting sweetness matching the bittersweetness of this moment.

We found a small table by the window, where the hum of chatter from other customers filled the silence between us. Hansel's shoulders relaxed slightly as she licked her ice cream, but I could still sense the storm brewing beneath her surface.

"I don't know what to do, Desiree," she began, her voice barely audible over the shop's noise. Her gaze dropped to the melting swirl in her hand. "Albert broke up with me. Just like that. No real reason... at least, none that makes sense to me."

My grip on the cone remained steady, but the name sent a ripple of interest through my thoughts.

Wallace's best friend, Albert Mayer? Or a different Albert?

I leaned forward slightly, keeping my tone gentle. 

"That's awful, Hansel. I'm so sorry he hurt you like that. You didn't deserve it."

Tears welled in her eyes again, spilling over despite her efforts to blink them away. 

"I thought he loved me. Three years, Desiree. We had plans, dreams... and now it's all gone." Her voice cracked as she continued, "He said he was too busy with his part-time job and studies to keep his scholarship, and he didn't want me to feel neglected. But nothing's changed! He was always busy, and I never complained because he always made time for me. So why now? It doesn't make sense."

I swirled my ice cream thoughtfully, choosing my words carefully. 

"Sometimes people make decisions they don't fully explain, Hansel. Maybe he thought he was doing what was best for you, even if it feels like the opposite right now."

Hansel's shoulders trembled as she clutched her cone tightly. "Was it something I did though?" she whispered.

I shook my head firmly. "No, Hansel. This isn't your fault. People have their own battles, their own fears, and sometimes they make mistakes because they don't know how to handle them. You didn't do anything wrong."

Her shoulders trembled, but the tension seemed to ease slightly as my words sank in. She gave a shaky nod, the tears still brimming but no longer spilling over.

"You're stronger than you think," I said quietly. "I know it doesn't feel like it now, but you'll get through this. And you're not alone. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

Her lips trembled as she nodded, her gratitude evident in the way she looked at me.

As we sat there, finishing our ice cream, I realized I wasn't trying to prove Wallace wrong. I was trying to prove to myself that I could be more than what I'd been taught to be.

And maybe, just maybe, I could be someone who truly cared.

๋࣭ °࣪ ִ⭑․𓃠⭒˚.• ݁

The Student Council room was unusually quiet, a rare and fragile silence broken only by the occasional rustle of paper and the muffled hum of conversation from the hallway. The faint smell of old books and floor polish hung in the air, grounding me.

I sat in my usual chair, the one nearest the head of the long mahogany table. The November chill didn't bother me. I was used to colder things.

My gaze swept over the room. The Secretary was absorbed in paperwork, her pen scratching furiously. A few chairs down, Celeste Armitage flipped through her binder with the precision of a jeweler inspecting fine gems.

A faint smile tugged at my lips. Perfect.

I rose, my movements smooth and unhurried. The quiet click of my heels against the polished wooden floor drew Celeste's attention. Her head tilted up as I approached, my expression warm but measured. Pleasant enough to bask in, yet not inviting warmth too close.

"Celeste," I began, my tone lilting like a melody as I stopped beside her. "You've truly outdone yourself with public relations this term. Ethan was just telling me how much he relies on you."

Her eyes widened briefly before she masked it with a modest smile, her cheeks faintly tinged with pink. "Oh, that's kind of him. I'm just doing my part."

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. 

"Your part? You've elevated the council's image entirely. I'd say that's far beyond doing your part. You're practically the cornerstone of its success."

Celeste laughed nervously, her fingers brushing over the binder in front of her. "Well, I've handled a few tricky situations, I suppose."

"That's exactly what makes you invaluable," I said, my voice softening as though confiding a personal thought.

My gaze flickered to the window, where golden light caught the dust motes in the air, before returning to her. 

"I was just thinking how the council could use someone like you for challenges beyond events and planning."

Celeste's head tilted slightly, curiosity piqued. "What kind of challenges?"

"Oh, nothing much," I said with a faint shrug, letting a small pause linger, the kind that draws people in. "You've heard the murmurs, haven't you? Some students feeling unsettled... certain behaviors that disrupt the environment."

Her brow furrowed, and her fingers stilled against the edge of a page. "I might have. Why do you ask?"

I kept my tone light, almost dismissive. 

"Nothing specific. It's just that someone with your tact and influence could make a real difference. Imagine if someone stepped forward to address these issues, especially if they involved, say, influential students." 

I allowed the faintest smile to touch my lips. "It could do wonders for the council's credibility. And yours."

Her lips parted slightly in surprise before she recovered. "You think I could... take initiative on something like that?"

"If anyone could, it's you," I said, leaning forward just enough to make her feel like we shared a secret. "You've got a gift for handling delicate matters, especially when it comes to difficult personalities."

"Difficult personalities?" she echoed, her voice dipping lower, more intrigued than cautious.

I let my gaze drift toward the window, as though the thought had just occurred to me.

"You know the type, those who think they can get away with anything because of their family name. It creates a toxic environment. If someone had the courage and the skill to address it, they could set an example for everyone."

She drew a breath, her fingers tightening slightly against the binder. 

"There's been a lot of talk about Jacklyn Yae," she said carefully. "Her behavior toward Audrey has been... troubling. But no one's willing to do anything because of her father."

I tilted my head, letting just a hint of surprise flicker across my face. 

"Jacklyn?" I echoed, as though the idea hadn't occurred to me. "That's... interesting."

Celeste's lips pressed into a thin line. "She's been making Audrey's life miserable, and everyone's too scared to call her out."

I gave her a small, approving nod, my smile subtle yet encouraging.

"Exactly. It takes someone with courage and tact to address someone like Jacklyn. You're the perfect person for it, Celeste. If anyone can approach the administration with a plan, it's you. And I'm sure Ethan would appreciate someone stepping up to improve the school's environment."

She bit her lip, her expression shifting from hesitation to determination. "You think I should... report her?"

I shrugged delicately, my voice light. "It's not my place to say. But if someone were to bring her behavior to light, it would send a powerful message and reflect beautifully on their commitment to the council's values."

She nodded slowly, mulling it over. I offered her a small, encouraging smile before glancing toward the door as more members began to arrive.

"Anyway, it was just a thought. Whatever you decide, I'm sure it'll be the right choice."

Returning to my seat, I watched from the corner of my eye as Celeste sat, deep in thought.

The seed had been planted. Now, I only needed to wait for it to grow.

As the room filled with its usual buzz, the Student Council meeting officially began. Ethan stood at the head of the table, addressing the members with his characteristic confidence.

"We need to foster a safer environment at Fictus Academy," he said, looking at each member in turn. "If anyone knows of specific incidents that need immediate attention, now's the time to bring them up."

I kept my expression neutral, though a flicker of anticipation stirred within me. I didn't need to look at Celeste to know what would happen next.

"I do," Celeste said, her voice steady. All eyes turned toward her, even Ethan's composure momentarily slipping into surprise. "We need to address the ongoing situation with Jacklyn Yae."

The room fell silent, tension thick in the air. Celeste, undeterred, continued. 

"Her behavior has been unacceptable, and it's creating a toxic environment. If we don't act, we're enabling bullying."

Ethan's expression shifted to approval. "That's... a bold suggestion, Celeste. And a necessary one. Thank you for having the courage to bring this up."

I glanced at Celeste, her expression radiant under Ethan's praise.

The pieces had fallen perfectly into place.

As the council debated the best course of action, I leaned back in my chair, my face serene while a quiet triumph bloomed within me. 

Jacklyn's downfall was imminent, and my hands remained spotless. A flawlessly executed move.

...

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