Chapter 1
689 Words
𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘢'𝘴 𝘗𝘖𝘝
For a Monday morning, the pavilion was too loud.
Too alive.
Too… irritating.
Or maybe it was just me.
Grade 12–STEM Polaris was buzzing with weekend gossip and half-finished modules, but all I wanted was peace five minutes of silence before Ma’am Torres started discussing the ten-millionth requirement for the quarter.
But peace was impossible in a class where Lucien Arcadio existed.
I could feel him even without looking.
His stupid confidence occupied space like it was a living thing.
And I hated that I noticed.
Ma’am Torres entered the room with a clipboard pressed to her chest, her expression serious.
Uh-oh.
“Good morning, class. Before anything else, I have an announcement.”
Yssa leaned closer, whispering behind her hand, “Girl, feeling ko na ‘to. Leadership elections.”
My stomach dropped.
No. Not yet. I wasn’t ready mentally, emotionally, spiritually, academically… existentially. I thought we still had weeks before—
“The administration has finalized the schedule for the SSLG Presidential Elections,” Ma’am continued. “The campaign period begins next Monday. Debates will be held next Friday.”
I blinked.
My heartbeat stumbled.
Around me, the class gasped in a mix of panic and excitement. Me? I was frozen.
This was it.
The big thing.
The thing everyone had been whispering about since June.
“Soleyna Velasco and Lucien Arcadio,” Ma’am said, adjusting her glasses, “you have both been pre-nominated by the council.”
What.
WHAT.
Yssa squealed next to me, shaking my arm like she was trying to detach it.
“SOL! Tangina, girl, ikaw ‘yan! Diyos ko—”
I barely heard her.
My ears were ringing.
My chest felt tight.
My brain couldn’t decide whether to combust or collapse.
Me? President?
Against… him?
I forced myself to look at Lucien.
He was already looking at me.
That smirk that annoyingly calm, controlled, bordering-on-arrogant smirk spread slowly across his face.
He sat up straighter, eyes sharpening like he’d just been handed his favorite challenge.
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
This was going to be a nightmare.
My nightmare.
Ma’am Torres kept talking rules, campaign guidelines, deadlines but all I could feel was Lucien’s gaze on me. Heavy. Testing. Curious.
As if he was already imagining the battlefield.
Class finally ended, and I shoved my notebooks into my bag, ready to escape before anyone could shove “So, President Velasco?” jokes in my face.
But when I reached the door—
A hand blocked my path.
Of course.
Lucien stood there, leaning slightly forward, his lanyard swinging against his chest. He wasn’t smirking now not fully. Just that tiny curve of his lips, the one that meant I’m enjoying this.
“Running for President, Secretary Velasco?” he asked.
I crossed my arms, lifting my chin. My voice came out steadier than I felt.
“Why? Planning to forfeit before the competition starts?”
His eyes glittered annoyingly pretty, annoyingly sharp.
He looked at me like I was a puzzle he wanted to dismantle piece by piece.
“So you are running,” he said softly. “Good.”
He stepped just a little closer.
Close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
Close enough that my pulse jumped without my permission.
“I wouldn’t want an easy opponent,” he added.
I matched his step, refusing to back away.
“Don’t worry. You won’t get one.”
He inhaled a tiny, almost unnoticeable pause before his smirk deepened.
“You won’t lose, Sol,” he murmured.
I swallowed.
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
Then he leaned just a fraction closer and whispered,
“You’ll crumble.”
That snapped me out of it.
I pushed past him, my shoulder brushing his as I walked away.
“Dream harder, Arcadio.”
But the moment I turned the corner, my heart finally reacted.
Thundering.
Exploding.
Completely betraying me.
I pressed a hand over my chest, trying to calm myself.
This wasn’t just politics.
This wasn’t just leadership.
This was war.
And the worst part?
A tiny, traitorous part of me was excited.
- Writer
