Rejected By The Club, I Pulled My Funding

My friend Ryan Cooper had talked me into applying to the Elite Founders Club, the university's entrepreneurship club, which claimed to accept "only the elite." The moment I reached the recruitment booth, the club president, Madison Blake, blocked me with a tablet in her arms. "Hold it. This is an exclusive circle for exceptional people. We use a strict four-part screening system, and anyone who falls short is out." She looked me up and down with open disdain. "Average-looking, with no standout features. You fail the looks requirement. No luxury watch, and not a single designer logo on your suit. You fail the style requirement. You came from an ordinary public high school instead of an exclusive prep school abroad. You fail the education requirement. And your voice isn't deep. You don't even use vocal fry. You sound weak, so that's another fail." She closed her tablet and delivered her verdict without a trace of courtesy. "Sorry. You didn't make the cut." Then she shoved me aside and beamed at Tyler Brooks, who wore a limited-edition watch. "Tyler's family invested eight figures in his project. A perfect score. Come right in!" The freshmen nearby snickered. Ryan started to defend me, but I raised a hand to stop him and adjusted my cuff. Madison had no idea that my unbranded suit had been made by a master tailor. I had stayed close to home because my family's current project was here. As for Tyler's proposal, it had reached my family's investment division the previous week. It hadn't even passed the preliminary review. Madison loved shutting people out, and that suited me just fine. I would show her who really had the power to shut someone out. "Wait. What about his application form?" Ryan called after we had taken only a few steps. Madison picked up the form I had filled out and held it in the air. "You mean this?" She glanced at me, tore it into four pieces in front of dozens of freshmen, and dropped them into the trash. "Our club doesn't recycle applications. The same goes for applicants." Several people burst out laughing. Ryan clenched his fists. I put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him away. "Let's go." "You're just going to take that?" Ryan shot Madison a glare over his shoulder. "What gives her the right to tear up your application in public?" "It was only a piece of paper." I took out my phone and opened my email. The latest message was an internal response from the investment division 3 days earlier. It had also been copied to my work email. Reference number: RJ-2024-0917. RJ stood for Reject. Applicant: Tyler Brooks. Reason for rejection: The business model is not viable, and the financial data is questionable. Do not proceed with the project. I closed the email without reading any further. At 9 p.m., Ryan rushed into our dorm room with his phone. "You need to see this." Madison had posted a long message in a campus-industry networking group chat with more than 500 members. Its title read: Evidence of Academic Misconduct Discovered During Entrepreneurship Club Recruitment. Three images followed. I took the phone and scrolled down. During today's recruitment event, a student named Lucas Mercer submitted an entrepreneurship proposal that, following verification by my team, was found to be highly similar to an entry from a previous competition. The student also has a prior disciplinary record. See the images below for details. The first image showed my application form. The second was a project proposal I had never seen. The third was a crudely fabricated disciplinary report. Ryan's face darkened. "This is fake, right? Since when do you have a disciplinary record?" I studied it. Both the font and the color of the official stamp were wrong. "Don't reply." I handed the phone back. "If we don't, people will believe her! There are more than 500 people in that chat. Do you know how fast this will spread?" I said nothing. The next day, I was waiting in line at the dining hall when two girls ahead of me glanced back and whispered to each other. "That's him, isn't it? The plagiarist from the group chat." "I heard he already had a record. Why hasn't the university disciplined him?" I took my tray to a table in the corner. Ryan sat across from me and slapped his fork onto the table. "What exactly are you planning? You can't stay silent forever." "Eat first." That afternoon, I logged into the university portal to check my registration for the Young Innovators Challenge. My entry had been marked Withdrawn. The details showed that a merger request had been processed by the Student Organizations Council at 4 p.m. the previous day. The note read: At the request of the club representative, this project has been incorporated into the Elite Founders Club's official competition entry. I called the competition systems office. "Hello. I'd like to know why my Young Innovators Challenge entry has been withdrawn." The staff member searched for a moment. "Lucas Mercer, correct? The Student Organizations Council submitted a merger request. Everything followed procedure." "I never consented to a merger." "Well, you'll need to confirm that with the council. We can only honor the electronic signature in the system." After hanging up, I logged into the administrative portal again and opened the activity log. The electronic signature in the council confirmation field clearly read Madison Blake. I saved a screenshot and called Nolan Pierce. He answered after the sixth ring. "Mr. Pierce, this is Lucas. I need to confirm something about the Young Innovators Challenge." "Oh, that." His tone was dismissive. "The Student Organizations Council arranged it. Stop making trouble." "But this is my project. A merger requires my signature and consent." He went silent for a moment before lowering his voice. "Lucas, let me be honest with you. Your merit scholarship application for this semester is still on my desk. If you keep pushing this, I can't promise it will be approved." "What exactly are you implying, Mr. Pierce?" "You can figure that out yourself. I have a meeting." He hung up. Ryan's expression turned grim after hearing the call. "He threatened you? A staff adviser is openly threatening a student?" Ryan got up. "I'm going to the dean's office to report him." "Don't." "Why not?" I opened my photo gallery and showed him the group-chat screenshots, the activity log, and Madison's electronic signature. "If we confront them now, they'll have time to destroy the evidence." "Then what are you going to do?" "Wait." Ryan stared at me with a deep frown. I locked my phone and straightened my cuff. "I'm not the one who should be worried."