Day 56 – Hour 012 “Not Everyone Is a Willing Participant”

Day 56 – Hour 012 "Not Everyone Is a Willing Participant"

Before anyone could speak—before even Vex could crack another joke—my phone buzzed.

A low, soft vibration.

One message.

The sender was hidden.

But I already knew.

[TASK COMPLETION CONFIRMED]Your submission has been accepted.No further action is required.

A second buzz.

Another line appeared.

[NOTE:]No images or progress reports were submitted by your instructor.Confirmation of completion was deemed sufficient.

I looked up.

Marco, silent and unmoved, had already turned away.

No expression. No reaction. He hadn't sent my work — just his approval.

And somehow, that was all they needed.

Then came the third vibration.

And this one came with more weight.

[PRELIMINARY NOTICE:]Next month's task will test your physical endurance and stamina.Prepare accordingly.

Fourth buzz.

You may continue your education at this location.Cost has already been covered.

That last line caught me.

They'd prepaid.

Without asking.

Without discussing it.

The Club had already decided what I'd be doing next — as if my will was now just a formality.

I stood still, phone in hand, staring at the screen long after the final dot faded from the message bubble.

Something inside me shifted again. A quiet calculation.

They hadn't asked for proof. They hadn't reviewed my photos. They didn't need them.

They just needed Marco to say I was done.

That was enough.

And somehow, that terrified me more than anything else.

I turned to the others.

They had all seen the buzz. Maybe not the details, but the tone was obvious.

I cleared my throat.

"Do all of you work for them?"

The question hung there for a moment.

Tamber leaned back in his chair.

Marco said nothing. He didn't even blink.

But Vex…

Vex gave me a long look.

His expression changed—just for a second. Something passed through his eyes.

Pity?

Regret?

Respect?

I couldn't tell.

Then he smiled — big, wide, exaggerated.

He clapped his hands together and shouted, "Lunch, anyone? I'm starving again!"

I didn't move.

Vex stepped past me toward the worktable, humming a half-made-up tune.

Just before he reached for a leftover bag of food, he said, without turning around:

"Not everyone is a willing participant."

Then, louder: "These fries are cold. That's criminal."

And just like that, the air shifted.

Conversation scattered to nonsense again.

The moment was gone.

The truth, buried.

And I — still outside the circle — was left wondering if that was the closest I'd ever get.