Locke had originally thought the month leading up to the Knowledge Competition was the most exhausting.
Clearly, he had been too optimistic.
In these five days of campaign preparation, Locke could swear that riding a horse from one end of Texas to the other wouldn't have been as draining as this. This wasn't physical fatigue; it was mental exhaustion.
*Click!*
"Good, good! Now, turn around."
"..."
Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit and classic leather oxfords, Locke remained silent for a moment before following the photographer's hand signals. He turned slowly and looked at Gwen, who was standing nearby. "Do we really need this many photos? I feel like we've taken at least a hundred already."
Betty, clutching her files, smiled from the side. "Your looks are your greatest advantage. We have to utilize them to the fullest."
Locke's mouth twitched. "For example?"
Cindy, who had tagged along, added with a grin, "My sorority is pooling ten thousand dollars to collaborate with Betty's Media Department. We're going to bind these photos into a book and sell them to students here and girls at other schools in New York. Trust me, it's a gold mine. With the profits, the Student Council won't lack funding once you're in office. You could throw a gala every month without a problem."
And more importantly, these photos would lock in the female vote. A total win-win!
Locke's brow twitched as he looked at Gwen. "You think this is a good idea too?"
'This is basically selling my soul and face,' he thought. And God knows what those girls will do with my photos. Will they be 'using' them in private or sticking them onto their boyfriends' faces?
Gwen threw her hands up. "Being able to bring in funding for the Student Council is a huge bonus point."
The reason Nina Bell became Vice President last year was precisely because she secured sponsorships from off-campus animal rights and human rights organizations.
Betty added, "Moreover, I heard those two associations have signaled that if Nina Bell becomes President, they'll increase their sponsorship budget."
That news had leaked two days ago. The subtext was crystal clear: get elected, get more money. If she failed, whether they'd even maintain current funding was up in the air.
"Because of this, most of this year's seniors have already leaned toward Nina Bell," Cindy noted. "I heard she privately promised that if she wins, this year's Senior Prom will be held in the ballroom of the Hilton Hotel."
"So," Cindy looked at Locke, "you have to win. This little sacrifice is worth it. You don't want to see the school turned upside down by those two organizations, do you?"
Locke opened his mouth, his gaze drifting to Gwen.
Gwen met his eyes, her expression serious. "I heard Mrs. Codd mention yesterday that Nina Bell is very confident. Before the campaign even officially started, she submitted a proposal to the School Board. They call it a 'proposal,' but it's actually a demand for Midtown High to immediately implement 'Equity Education.'"
Locke raised an eyebrow.
Good grief.
The Student Council at a school like Midtown wasn't some powerless club; they actually participated in daily management alongside the administration.
Locke looked back at the photographer—a man of somewhat ambiguous orientation whose eyes were currently sparkling—and asked, "Do you need me to take my shirt off for a few shots?"
The photographer's eyes lit up.
Gwen's face instantly darkened.
Taking photos in clothes was the bottom line she had set after Cindy and Betty persuaded her. Taking them off? Not a chance.
Locke didn't actually mind, but seeing Gwen's dangerous, protective glare, he abandoned the thought.
...
By afternoon, in a spare office:
The campaign posters and badges were ready. After Gwen double-checked the items, Locke signed the bill. The school would cover the initial costs.
Cindy walked in while finishing a phone call. "It's done! A sorority sister's uncle owns a printing plant in New Jersey. They're working overtime. The sample for Locke's photo book will be ready tomorrow morning. Mass production starts Sunday, and the first batch will be out Monday morning."
"Sunday?"
"Perfect. I'll give a copy to every girl in my sorority," Cindy said with absolute certainty. "Then, when the campaign officially kicks off next week, we'll set up a booth. We're going to make a killing."
She looked at Locke. "Your handsome face is about to be in the bedsheets of every girl in New York between sixteen and twenty-one."
'Every girl? Sixteen to twenty-one? Bedsheets?'
Betty chimed in playfully, "Not just girls. I'm sure some boys will appreciate it too."
Cindy's eyes lit up. "Oh right! So our sales estimates were too low?"
Betty nodded. They were perfectly in sync. Locke's forehead began to throb as he looked at Gwen with a helpless gaze.
Gwen looked a bit dazed. It seemed she hadn't fully processed the imagery Cindy had just described.
Now that she had, she looked at Locke with a "regret" written all over her face.
Locke let out a short laugh and gave her a look that said: 'I'm just following my Campaign Manager's orders.'
Gwen was speechless.
...
That evening, at dinner:
Helen noticed the internal struggle written all over Gwen's face and asked what was wrong. After hearing the explanation, Helen seemed very interested, not missing a chance to tease her daughter. "Locke's photo book? That sounds great. Reserve a copy for me."
"No!"
"Absolutely not!"
Locke, who was quietly eating lemon sea bass, and the two younger brothers watched as Gwen and George yelled in unison.
George almost sprayed his wine. He glared at Locke, then looked at Helen. "Dear, let's not get involved in this nonsense."
Locke felt a bit helpless under George's glare. He hadn't come up with the idea. Even if he was getting a 30% cut of the profits, the mastermind was his campaign manager, Gwen. It had nothing to do with him!
Gwen sided with her father for once, telling Helen, "Mom, please don't join in. I already regret it."
The thought of her boyfriend's photos under the covers of 90% of the city's female students was bad enough... but her own mother?
Good Lord!
Gwen was numb.
Helen laughed at the agitated father-daughter duo. "Locke is very exceptional. If I were his age, I would also li—"
"MOM!" Gwen dropped her fork and grabbed Locke's arm, dragging him toward the stairs. "We're full! Enjoy your meal!"
If they stayed any longer, Locke's life might be in danger; George's hand was already moving toward his waist.
...
In Gwen's room:
*Thud.* Gwen pulled Locke inside and immediately double-locked the door as if something outside were trying to steal him.
Their eyes met, the atmosphere warming—but then, *ring ring ring!* Gwen's phone went off.
It was Cindy.
"Hello?"
"Gwen, get on the school forum. Now! That b*tch couldn't wait any longer."
Gwen froze, a thought crossing her mind. She looked up at Locke.
A moment later, they were staring at the Midtown High forum on a laptop screen. The top trending post was about Locke.
Just like the leak that had taken down Sam Malik, this wasn't a direct attack. It was written from the perspective of an "impartial third party" titled: A Deep Dive into the Two Main Candidates for Student Council President.
The section on Locke was full of Spring and Autumn brushstrokes (subtle but pointed writing). It mentioned he was from Texas—specifically emphasizing that it's a Republican stronghold. It detailed his previous schools, noting that both had been the site of protests by minority groups in the past.
Then it moved to New York. It pointed out that Locke lives in the Star Tower, mentioning the "fun fact" that the building is under some form of legal litigation for 300 out of 365 days a year.
Finally, it showed photos of last year's Chemistry competition and this year's Grand Slam team—highlighting the "uniform skin color" of the participants.
The section on Nina Bell was far more flattering. It focused heavily on her involvement in "Equity" and social justice activism.
On the surface, it looked unbiased. But a closer look revealed the trap: while the post never used the word "discrimination," every sentence accused Locke of it.
Gwen's face turned grim. Locke, however, simply smiled.
Just then, his own phone rang. Locke checked the ID and raised an eyebrow.
It was Sam Malik.
***
200 stones bonus.
Next goal 300 like usual.
Thanks for reading 🙏
***
Read 40 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666