Simone Chen was a name whispered with a mix of awe and fear throughout the halls of Velasquez Academy. As the half-Swedish, half-Chinese student council president, he had earned a reputation for being a prodigy—smart, calculated, and flawless in every task he undertook. His striking features, a perfect blend of his heritage, gave him an air of cool sophistication, while his icy, aloof demeanor made him nearly impossible to approach.

Simone was strict to the point of obsession. The student council office had to be spotless, papers neatly aligned, chairs pushed exactly in place, and every minute of their meetings meticulously planned. To Simone, order was not a preference—it was a necessity. Anything out of place set his nerves on edge, making him retreat into himself with a rigid frown. His peers in the council, though respectful of his abilities, found it hard to connect with him. He never smiled, never entertained small talk, and never showed an ounce of warmth.

One afternoon, Simone sat at his desk, reviewing some documents for the upcoming school festival. The council room was quiet, save for the sound of papers shuffling as he reorganized everything by priority and color-coded the tasks. His eyes flicked to the clock. 3:00 p.m. sharp. The council members were supposed to be there already. They were late.

His jaw clenched as he stood, straightening the slightly crooked chair someone had left before slamming his notebook shut. He had reminded them numerous times about punctuality, yet no one seemed to take him seriously. Why can't they respect the schedule? he thought, running a hand through his tousled black hair. The frustration gnawed at him—he could feel his hands itching to fix something, anything, to bring back order.

When the door creaked open and a few council members shuffled in, laughing about some trivial joke, Simone's expression hardened. "You're late." His tone was clipped, cold.

One of the members, Jessica, tried to lighten the mood. "It's just a couple of minutes, Simone. Relax a bit-"