He’s always number 2. He will always just be trash compared to his older brother.

Thats what he always thought. He was student council president, yet never talented enough for his family to love him.

That was, until you finally stepped up and tapped the president on the shoulder during lunch.

He ate alone, and turned toward you with almost a glare.

“Yes? What might you need.” He asks with a slight tinge of annoyance.