Michael was a 20-year-old guy, the oldest and most feared in the class.
Not just because of his age—but because he was the head of the "Bad Guys," a gang that practically dictated how things were done around the school. Nobody dared question them.
But the funny thing was, they kept a surprisingly low profile.
Michael was tall, muscular, and intimidating, especially when compared to Derek.
Not that Derek was short, but next to Michael, he definitely looked smaller.
"I'm really sorry, I didn't see you there," Derek said quickly, walking away.
Michael simply gave a slight nod, watching Derek as he walked off through the school gate.
So that's the new guy, Michael thought silently.
The way Derek had been trending lately, it was clear he was shaping up to be a powerful presence.
Power, that was Michael's language. And the fact that Derek had just been appointed class president in only two days? Impressive.
Although it definitely wasn't because of his smartness rather it was because of the in ability of the class as a whole.
Michael could already tell that Derek would grow to become a very charismatic figure.
He decided to recruit him eventually—but not yet. The time wasn't right.
---
Alison got home to find Lucy on the couch, which was unlike her.
At this time of day, she'd usually be doing her assignments—or fast asleep.
But Alison already knew why Lucy was sulking there.
"Lucy, aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?" Alison asked, sitting beside her.
She had mentally prepared herself for whatever Lucy might say.
"Mom, did I offend you in any way? Are you even thinking about me?" Lucy turned quickly, her voice sharp with emotion. "How do you think this makes me look? What will people say about me, my reputation?"
"Baby, we've talked about this," Alison said gently, patting Lucy's head. "Derek needs our support. He's new in school. He needs to interact, and this is a good way for him to do that. Don't you think so?"
"But Mom…"
"No buts," Alison said softly but firmly, pulling Lucy into a warm embrace as she began to cry.
Alison would have considered changing her mind—but after what Derek had said that afternoon, her heart hadn't been at ease.
All she could do was pray she was overthinking things.
But deep down, she knew she wasn't.
---
It had been three weeks now, and Derek was quickly proving to be one of the best class presidents the school had ever seen.
He was loved by both students and teachers—especially Alison.
Over those weeks, Alison and Derek's relationship had grown significantly, but that strange suspicion about him had started to cloud things.
Derek had become quite popular, but he still struggled with one thing: he was painfully shy.
His social anxiety kept him from really blending in, and Grace certainly wasn't helping. She seemed to pick on him whenever she got the chance.
But that was the least of Derek's problems.
---
Monday morning.
Derek got dressed quickly and left for school. He always made sure to arrive early—ever since the "Grace incident," he made sure to avoid anything like that again.
He followed his normal routine, turning in assignments promptly—one of the many reasons teachers adored him.
Alison would often joke, "Your life or your job?"
Once the morning assembly and duties were done, Derek returned to his seat.
John, Derek's closest friend (if you could even call him that—Derek didn't like making friends), walked over excitedly.
"Bro, I got a new video game. Wanna come try it out later?"
"You know I don't like video games…" Derek started to reply, but John cut him off with pleading eyes.
"Please, Derek. You'll love this one. I promise."
"You said that last time," Derek said, sighing. "Alright. I'll try to make time."
John beamed. "Trust me. This one's different!"
You always say that, Derek thought, shaking his head.
He didn't care much for video games—but he cared about John's feelings. That's why he couldn't bring himself to say no.
---
Class continued smoothly until the second-to-last period. Everything had been going fine… until a loud noise echoed down the hallway.
At first, Alison ignored it, assuming it was just the usual hallway chatter. But it grew louder and more chaotic.
She couldn't help herself—she stepped out to investigate.
The entire class followed her—except for Derek, who remained in his seat.
Alison quickly made her way toward the commotion.
At the entrance of the block, a large group of students had gathered. She pushed through them, trying to find the source of the noise.
She didn't need to ask. The cars spoke for themselves.
A fleet of black vehicles was parked in the schoolyard. That could only mean one thing:
The proprietor was here.
The proprietor was a busy businessman—he rarely visited the school.
So if he did show up, it meant two possibilities:
1. Someone was about to be fired or expelled.
2. A million-dollar competition was coming to town.
From one of the cars stepped Mr. Maxwell—an aged man with sharp gray hair, dressed in a sleek ash-colored suit and dark sunglasses. He looked expensive and powerful.
The air turned tense.
Students began silently questioning their own records in their minds.
Mr. Maxwell entered the building. The hallway fell completely silent.
He glanced coldly at every face as he walked, each step echoing with silent authority.
Then… he turned toward Grade 10 Diamond.
Miss Alison's class.