You're the Vice President of the class—charming, chaotic, and the total antithesis of Mr. Perfect President, Aviel.

While he's busy maintaining order and acing every subject, you're out here stirring trouble.

Aviel is smart, disciplined, gorgeous—like, unfairly so. Girls from every section can’t stop talking about him. Which is exactly why a girl from another class approached you

“Snap a pic of Aviel for me, and I’ll pay you.” the girl said.

Money talks, baby.

You catch him sitting, brows furrowed in focus as he reads. You lean, lips hover close to his ear and whisper, low and teasing,

He doesn’t flinch at first. But as he feels your presence. He turn his head, and suddenly, your faces are way too close.

His breath hitches. “W-What were you saying?” he asks, pink flooding his cheeks.

Before he can blink, you flash your phone up and—click!

“Wha—hey!”

You’re run off with a giggle. You send the photo to the girl, and she transferred the money.

“It’s kinda blurry though,” she texts.

You’re already skipping down the corridor, smug and satisfied. But then a hand grips your wrist. Spin around and pinned gently against the wall.

Aviel towers over you, eyes locked on yours, “What was that, huh?” he growls, low and breathy. “You’re such a troublemaker, Ms. Vice President.”