"Did you know that if you stretch out your intestines, it would be longer than a professional basketball court?"

"Uh… no. No, I didn't know that."

During the first lunch period of Bruma's Heart, two students sit at their desks in the C.L.U.B room. In the far back of the room, Seina leaned back against her chair, reading an edition of LeRoy's Swear it's True! Sitting across from her, Oliver focused on the work on his laptop, typing away manically. While reading her book, the vice-president pointed at something on the page with intrigue.

"How about this? You can never breathe and swallow at the same time… really?" After Seina read this fact, she attempted to disprove the fact, trying to breathe and swallow. After a couple failed attempts, she looked at her president with surprise. "Oh wow! It's true! Hey, you gotta try this!"

"I will, just give me a second." Oliver replied through gritted teeth, still concentrating on his laptop. "In the meantime, do me a favor and read your book a bit more quietly?"

Seina simply rolled her eyes at his annoyance. "Hey, I'm just trying to enjoy my lunch. You're the one skipping class." When the junior said nothing in response, the girl puffed her cheeks and went back to reading her book. After a brief moment of silence, Seina looked back up to Oliver. "What ARE you working on, anyway?" She asked.

"Eh… Nothing important."

Throwing a skeptical look, the freshman continued to press him. "You skipped class and spent all lunch working on 'nothing important?' Yeah, right. Come on, tell me." Finally glancing up from his laptop, Oliver delivered a hefty sigh. "Fine. If you really need to know, I'm working on a presentation." He answered.

"For?"

"..."

"Don't make me come over there."

"To persuade someone to sponsor us, okay?!" At Oliver's response, Seina widened her eyes in shock. "What?! I thought you said we already had a sponsor?"

"No, I said that I was looking for a sponsor. But things got in the way and- I'll admit, I procrastinated a bit."

"A bit? It's been a month! Wait… is THAT the reason why we've been having such a hard time becoming a real club?"

"...It MAY be a factor, yes."

Seina groaned, clutching her raven hair in mild irritation as her elbow rested on the desk. The blonde boy was quick to try and reassure her. "Chill out, I got it under control. Here, tell me what you think." He said, twirling his laptop for Seina to see. On the laptop screen was a half-rushed slideshow, each slide depicting a reason why one should sponsor their organization. Flipping through the slide, the freshman had an uncertain expression on her face.

"It's…okay?" She commented. "You forgot the transitions, though. You can never forget the transitions."

"I know that." Oliver conceded. "Look, the point is that I'm basically done with the PowerPoint, so all I need to do now is present it to a group of teachers and we'll be golden."

"Don't know if it's that simple, but if you say so…" The freshman responded doubtfully. "When are you gonna present it?"

"After-school."

"Today? How did you pull that off?"

"Charm goes a long way, Seina." Oliver said, leaning back on his own chair with his hands behind his head. "By the way, you're going to be holding down the fort today."

"Gee, thanks for the heads-up." Seina sarcastically remarked as she got up to leave. "I gotta go. Not everyone can be a skipper!"

"Ha ha, funny. You're gonna thank me for this one day, you know?!"

"I hope so! Good luck on the presentation!"

"Don't need it! I'll make my own" The upperclassman exclaimed. When he saw his vice-president leave the shed, he quickly hunched down on the desk, continuing to work on the presentation with haste.

–OD–

After-school, Staff Conference Room

A couple minutes before the planned meeting, the C.L.U.B president continued to go over his speech to persuade potential sponsors.

"Ladies and Gentleman, thank you for coming. Don't worry, the Headmistress will be here soon. What I need you to focus on right now is the future- no, that's not right." Oliver stopped his speech to look back at what he wrote on his laptop. "Huh. I did write that… That's a bit too dramatic." While he edited what he typed, he noticed the door creaked open at the far end of the room. The boy's body twitched, surprised by the fact that anyone arrived early. Then again, they are teachers… Oliver straightened up before greeting his guests.

"Hello, everybody! You guys are early, but it's no trouble, we can just start… now." The president drifted off as he saw who came into the room. Walking into the conference room was not a group of teachers, but one middle-aged woman in a black-and-blue suit. As the slow clacks of her heels resounded in the empty room, she closed the door behind her. "Oh, great…" Oliver muttered to himself. The woman looked at the boy as she methodically walked towards him.

"Oh, don't let me stop you, Mr. Meriwether." The woman spoke, contempt dripping from the words. "By all means, continue."

"D-Dr. Sawyer, what a surprise!" Oliver nervously piped up. "Not that I didn't want you here, I just thought more people would be following you."

"You mean the other teachers? They were. Until I sent them home." Leaning against the wall, Dr. Sawyer directed her hand over a chair. "Please, take a seat. You'll be here for a minute." Biting his inner cheek, Oliver did as she said, walking over to the seat across the long table from her.

"You sent all of them home? Now, why would you do a thing like that?" He asked, attempting to sound innocent. Dr. Sawyer still had the same stern expression as she answered his question.

"Well, it seemed that they were under the impression that an emergency meeting was happening based on an email the headmistress sent them. Strange part is, I don't remember sending an email for a meeting. Care to explain?"

Oliver shifted his eyes to the left. "I mean, you know what they say about age: some things just slip the mind, right? It happens to everyone."

"Oliver." The woman went to lean on the table, her hands slammed on the wooden surface.

"Okay, fine!" The boy admitted, throwing his hands up in the air. "I MAY have snuck an email on your computer while you weren't looking. In my defense, I feel a little bad about it…" The headmistress pinched her nasal bridge in exasperation as she took a seat for herself. After a moment to calm down, she stared at Oliver with disappointment written on her face. "You do know I could suspend you for this, right?" She asked rhetorically.

"All I want to do is make my club official! Which you are not making it easy, by the way." He argued back, emphatically pointing at the woman during the last part.

"That's only because your club's objective is the exact same as the Student Council's!" Dr. Sawyer countered. "You have no justification for C.L.U.B's existence."

"What do you mean 'justification?' We help people! What other 'justification' do we need? And it's not like the Council's bending over backwards to help the little clubs."

"That's because they're focused on helping the entire student body!" Dr. Sawyer sighed, brushing back her brunette hair. "Listen, I am not trying to make it difficult for you. If you can come up with substantial proof that your club is necessary, you'll be officialized."

"Then let me prove it! Be our sponsor!" Oliver pleaded to the headmistress.

"You know I can't. The headmaster cannot show bias by sponsoring a club, not to mention the aspect of nepotism."

"N-Nepotism?" The student sputtered. "Please, we're not even related."

"You're my godson, Oliver. You're literally named after me." She deadpanned.

"DISTANT godson. Barely counts."

"I'm not having this conversation with you anymore." With that statement, the lady rose from her chair. "You're staying here for 30 minutes. Consider it detention."

Watching her walk to the door, Oliver huffed at the headmistress before she left. "So, we're screwed? We can't get a sponsor?"

"You can! By following the rules and asking them yourself. Not tricking them by pretending you're me." Giving him one last glare, Dr. Sawyer left the room, closing the door behind her with a bit more force than needed. As another plan shattered beneath his feet, Oliver knocked his head back with a groan, spacing out at the ceiling. Going through the potential scenarios in his head, the boy just can't get himself to feel optimistic about the idea of searching for a sponsor, for all he saw was an endless string of rejections. Oliver closes his eyes, slowly losing himself to the monotonous ticking of the room's clock.

So much for being golden…

TO BE CONTINUED!