ch.2 || mean

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As the days went by, you and Scaramouche found yourselves in the spotlight more than ever. The school buzzed with rumors and speculation about their dynamic.

During the next student council meeting, they presented their compromise budget proposal to the rest of the council members. To keep up appearances, you deliberately inserted subtle jabs at each other while discussing the proposal. As they continued to argue, their fellow council members exchanged anxious looks, unsure of how to react.

"Of course, we can't just throw money around like Y/N wants," Scaramouche stated firmly, throwing a pointed glance at the president.

"And we can't be too stingy like Scaramouche suggests, or the festival will be dull and uninspired," You retorted with a challenging tone.

Their performance was so convincing that some council members even attempted to mediate, not realizing that you and Scaramouche had already reached a compromise behind the scenes. But as you both engaged in your banter, you exchanged secret glances that betrayed the facade you were putting on for everyone else.

After the dreaded meeting, you found yourself in the company of Dehya and Nilou, gathering in a cozy corner of the school garden.

Dehya sipped her drink, raising an eyebrow. "Spill it, girl. What's the latest Scaramouche drama?" You laughed at their curiosity but tell them nonetheless.

"Oh, you know. Just him being him once again." You start. "I proposed that we go all out for the festival and he looked at me like I had three heads."

"What if he's secretly a budget wizard?" You laughed at Dehya's attempt to joke. "He seems to know every calculation by heart." She adds.

Nilou nodded, her smile broadening. "He must be channeling his inner financial advisor or something."

"He's definitely got a reputation for being all business." Dehya chimed in. "But I wonder what he's like when he's not busy being all of that."

You attempt to conceal your grin as you recalled your secret moments together with him. "Who knows? Maybe he is into astrology or a closet fan of cheesy romantic movies."

The two of your closest friends burst into a series of laughter, imagining Scaramouche in such roles. Little did they know that these playful speculations were closer to the truth than they could imagine.




Your weary eyes stared at the marked date on the calendar. It was drawing closer and closer, which meant expecting more stress for the next few days.

Rubbing your temple, you sat and glanced at the heap of papers you had to go through for the school festival. The sight of it already makes you feel sick and dizzy.

"A great way to end the day." You chuckled to yourself.

Only the sound of birds chirping and the gentle whisper of the wind accompanied you whilst going over the mounted papers on the desk. You were alone and it almost felt comforting as you were used to this.

Maybe you did like doing this, having way much more workload than you could afford to do. There was a sense of fulfillment when you were relied on, it was your job to do as the president of the student body and lead the school but beneath all of it, there was a nagging sense of inadequacy lingered.

Even though your accomplishments and achievements came in, you still do not feel whole, and only left you yearning for more.

At that moment, your thoughts turned to Scaramouche, the vice president. Despite their indifferences and arguments in public, he was the only one who saw through your polished image and understood you.

You couldn't help but smile at the secret moments you had together. The stolen glances, the hidden touches, and the laughter you shared when no one was watching. Maybe, at some point, Scaramouche helped fill that pothole of void in your heart.

"Mind if I join you?"

As if on cue, Scaramouche appeared by the door, walking towards her with a soft smile. "Not at all. It's nice here, isn't it?"

"What nice? Reading this amount of papers?" He sat beside her, the evening breeze brushing against their skin.

"You could help me if you want," Your slim fingers flipped through the pages. "You're the vice president after all." Scaramouche chuckles lightly at that.

"Yeah, it's nice in here if that's what it is to you," He changes the topic. "But I know there's more on your mind than just this." Your eyes followed his index finger, pointing at what you were reading.

"You always manage to see through me, don't you?"

"I try to do my best, because you're my partner, not only in the student council and...in other things." Your heart skipped a beat at the subtle hint. "I know you like the back of my hand, Y/N."

"Yeah, you're right." You flashed him a warm smile, appreciating his perceptiveness.

Scaramouche took your hand in his. "You don't have to push yourself too hard, you don't have to be the perfect student all the time and it's alright to get tired. It's what makes you human."

A rush of comfort washed over you. "Thanks for reminding me of that."

He leaned in, your foreheads touching gently. "You're the most amazing person I know."

"You sound cheesy. Is this from one of those romantic movies you've been watching?" Scaramouche snorts at your accusation.

"And what was that? 'It's what makes you human'? Am I a robot or something?"

"If I have to be honest, you do act like one...sometimes."

In the end, Scaramouche reluctantly lent you a hand, his cocky demeanor waning a bit. With him by your side, all the work you had to do didn't seem as overwhelming. His tough exterior and attitude were a stark contrast to your own sense of responsibility and self-doubt, but somehow, that was what made the two of you work out.

You found reassurance in his presence because you realized you didn't have to bear the burden of perfection alone and that he was aware of the pressures that came with holding a position of authority. As the two of you spent more time together, you came to understand how much he had already assimilated into your life.

Although he does tease you mercilessly and push your buttons at every chance he gets in public, he also offered unwavering support when you needed it the most when you were alone.

He was someone unexpected, he was your reigned mortal enemy in others' eyes, yet he was the one who knew your deepest fears and dreams. He listened when you needed to vent, offering a shoulder to cry on even if he grumbled about it. His genuine care for your well-being touched your heart in ways you never thought possible.



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