New week, new rules.
First thing Monday, an anonymous poll is up on every social app: "Who's really running the school?" Four choices—none subtle, all dangerous. I'm not even a candidate; the best jobs work from the shadows.
Locker doors slam. Minji is already at mine, phone in hand.
"You see this circus?"
I lean against the lockers. "It isn't a circus unless someone's selling tickets."
Jay straggles in, hair sleep-creased, munching a breakfast bar. Dao hangs back by the stairs, nodding at two first years who suddenly find a reason to be somewhere else.
Minji passes me the phone. The poll results refresh every second: Vasco, Sungho, Jay, 'Other'. My bets are always on 'Other'—the future can't be a dynasty if it's decided by yesterday's kings.
In class, Ms. Park tries to lecture on world history, but the group chat is exploding. "Did you hear Vasco and Zack got called to the office? Word is something's going down after school—like, big."
Every hand is moving under the desks, typing, reacting, feeding the beast.
I tap out a line of my own: "Sometimes, the best leader is the one you never see."
Jay glances up, catching my eye. "You're messing with them."
I tap my temple. "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist."
Jay almost smiles, but he's too busy reading the room.
Lunch, the courtyard buzzes. Groups form and shift like cells under a microscope.
Dao sits with me and Minji. "Rumor is, whoever wins the poll calls the shots at tonight's Meet."
Minji leans in. "They say there's money in it now. Some seniors are taking bets."
I tear open a juice box, hand one to Minji. "You ever play chess?"
She grins, eyes bright. "Only if I get to be the queen."
I wink. "That's the trick—most people play not to lose. Only the wild ones play to win."
Suddenly, a hush: Daniel Park, flanked by Zack Lee and Jace, approaches the tables, his presence pulling heads like a magnet. His height is less intimidating than the way he carries himself—calm, calculated.
"Mind if I join?" Daniel's tone is polite, but it's the kind of question you can't say no to.
I gesture to the open seat. "Anyone looking for war should study peace first."
He sits, gaze direct but not unkind. "Rumors fly when they run out of facts. You want to clear the air, or add smoke?"
I shrug. "The truth's a lot less dramatic than the headlines."
Dao blurts, "He started half the rumors, Daniel. He just does it with style."
Daniel smiles—small, but real. "Style scores points, but it also paints targets."
Jay, never missing a beat, adds, "Then some of us better learn to run."
Minji glances at me sideways, question flickering in her grin.
I answer, low, "Sometimes, to win big, you've got to fake a loss."
Class after lunch drags, half the room staring at phones, the other half pretending not to. Ms. Park calls on me twice, but I answer with just enough bite they let me slide.
By dismissal, the air is static. Kids don't leave in groups—everyone watches, waiting to see the first move. Jay's gone quiet; Minji's bouncing one leg, nerves covered by attitude.
I find a flyer by my locker: "THE MEET — Old Gym. 7 PM. All Factions. No Adults. No Excuses." Underneath, a crude sketch of a crown, and a graffiti scrawl: "Bring your loyalty, leave your mask."
Dao and Minji fall in step beside me. "Who's orchestrating this?" Minji asks.
"The world loves a masquerade," I reply. "And every revolution starts with an invitation."
Jay's voice trails from behind, dry as bone: "Just remember, when you look into the abyss, sometimes the abyss looks back."
We swing by the roof, where the city sprawls limitless and uncaring under a bruised sky. I stand at the edge, letting tension simmer.
Dao mutters, "You sure it's safe?"
I grin, toss my bag down. "Safe is for people who don't move the plot."
He looks away, but he's smiling. Minji joins me, outstretched arms, face to the wind. "You think we pick our stories, or do they just use us up?"
I look down at the shadows wriggling between buildings. "People don't change the world. They just get used to remind it why it should."
A pause, then, almost to himself, Jay murmurs, "Every legend starts as a whisper."
By the time we reach the gym, music already pulses through open windows. Kids line the halls, some rivals, some potential friends, all sizing up the crowd. Calls and shoves bounce off cinderblock walls—Vasco's crew jawing with Sungho's, Zack scouting for new muscle, Jace and Daniel quietly eyeing every group.
The poll results hang above the door on an old monitor: "Other" leading by a landslide.
I nod to Minji. She flips her hood up. "Ready for chaos?"
I start down the steps, all eyes tracking.
"Born ready," I say. "You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough."