Finally Seen

Today's lecture at NYU was surprisingly engaging, and for once, every student in the lecture hall gave the professor their full attention. The topic was captivating—American poetry and its influence on modern storytelling. The professor, a tall, middle-aged man with a booming voice and a passion for literature, walked back and forth as he explained the roots of romanticism and its ties to nature, love, and loss.

After an hour of vibrant discussion, the professor suddenly paused, reached into his desk, and began handing out sheets of paper. A ripple of confusion spread through the room.

"This," he said, raising a brow, "is a short test. I want to see how well you've all absorbed what we've covered in the past few months."

The moment the papers hit the desks, the classroom atmosphere shifted dramatically. Several students groaned, and others exchanged nervous glances. Murmurs filled the room as they scanned the questions—each one more complex than the last.

Azuka's eyes skimmed the paper with mild surprise. They weren't impossible, but they definitely required deep concentration. He heard someone sigh beside him and turned to see Peni staring at her test sheet like it had personally offended her. Then, she glanced at him with wide, pleading eyes, a silent question hovering in the air: Do you know the answers?

Without thinking twice, Azuka stood up and casually moved to the empty seat next to her. He lowered his head and began scribbling answers, then subtly tilted his paper so she could see.

"Please use your own words," he whispered, not wanting her to get in trouble for copying. She nodded quickly, grateful for the help.

The test dragged on with an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the sound of frantic writing and sighs of frustration. Many students had not been consistent in attending classes, and the shock of the impromptu test hit them like a wave. Azuka, though slightly worried they might get caught, couldn't help but feel good for helping Peni.

When the time was up, the professor collected the papers. Peni exhaled deeply, a mix of relief and exhaustion washing over her. She leaned toward Azuka with a thankful smile.

"Thank you," she mouthed sincerely, her heart full. Despite all the pressure she was under, especially from that monster Scorpion who wanted her to betray Azuka, she couldn't do it. Not to him. She liked him—not just his looks or charm, but the way he treated people, especially her.

She zipped up her bag, stealing one last glance at Azuka before heading to lunch. He gave her a small nod and a grin. Somehow, that made all the chaos fade for a moment.

---

At Chen Enterprises, the atmosphere was thick with formality and ambition.

Xavier sat confidently at the head of the long mahogany conference table, flanked by the company's top board members and stakeholders. Among them was Mr. Paul, who wore a tight smile that never quite reached his eyes. It was election day—time to appoint the company's new Chief Operating Officer.

"After much deliberation and consideration," Xavier announced, "we have come to a unanimous decision."

He turned to the man seated to his right.

"Congratulations, Attorney Raymond. You've been officially elected as the new COO of Chen Enterprises."

The room erupted in polite applause.

Raymond's eyes widened in disbelief. He stood, holding back the overwhelming emotions threatening to bubble to the surface. Just a few years ago, he had nothing. Orphaned, abandoned, and living on the harsh streets, his life had been void of hope—until Xavier's parents took him in, gave him a home, and funded his education.

Today, he was no longer that lost boy in the slums. Today, he was somebody—respected, powerful, and finally, seen.

"Thank you," Raymond said, his voice thick with gratitude. "I promise to uphold the legacy of this company with honor. I owe everything to the Chen family."

Xavier nodded, pleased with the decision. He saw Raymond not just as an asset to the company, but as family. His parents had seen potential in the boy when no one else had. They had believed in him—and now, Xavier was doing the same.

But Mr. Paul's expression remained unreadable. Something dark flickered behind his eyes as he stared at the newly promoted Raymond. It wasn't admiration. It was something else entirely.