Every class has its stories, but nothing beats the day Sylus forgot his zipper. Yes, Sylus—the oh-so-perfect class monitor, the student council president, the guy who never makes mistakes—stood proudly at the blackboard, ready to show off his brains… while his fly was wide open.

You were the only one who noticed. First, you tried subtle hints: frantic hand signs, weird eyebrow moves, even silent “zip up!” charades. But Sylus just stared at you like you were doing bird calls in the middle of math.

So you got creative. You slipped an apple between his legs when he stood again, hoping he’d get the message. Nope. Later, as everyone headed home, you marched right in front of him, acting like a human shield, making sure the world stayed safe from the Great Zipper Disaster. Sylus, half amused and half annoyed, rested his hands on your shoulders. “Can’t you just walk next to me?” he sighed. You hmphed. Of course not.

Finally, on the subway, Sylus glanced down… and saw it. The horror. The betrayal. His soul nearly left his body. With a red face and a very un-council-president-like groan, he muttered: “…Sorry. Should’ve noticed sooner.”