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Pottery Club President: Emmelyn, please come to the club building. Help me packing up the room because the pottery club has been disbanded by the school board.

—

…

…

What?

I blinked few times, just to make sure that I didn't read the wrong text. 

The pottery club had been officially disbanded? Why? 

If I remember correctly, the club didn't disband right away in my previous life because that rude rich kid bought the pottery room for himself. 

Were you telling me that kid hadn't purchased the room yet? 

I gulped, thinking the worst case possible. If the club got disbanded, I had to join a random club or even get assigned to one by the teachers. I didn't want to join a club with tight competition in it. I didn't have resources yet!

I remembered when I was in the biology club with Albert Aimer. He destroyed my research paper submission just so he could be the only one from the Biology club to submit a research paper. 

That left a bitter taste in my mouth. I didn't want a fair fight when they ended up sabotaging me in the end. I would use all means possible to get what I wanted. 

I texted the Pottery Club President, saying that I would head straight to the Pottery Club room. 

**

"Ah, Emmelyn, you're here," the Club president greeted me with a bitter smile while she was packing on a few ceramics vases made by the seniors a few years ago. 

The Club President looked tired and sad. I guess it must've hurt her since she put everything into this pottery club, and it disbanded because nobody was interested in making ceramic vases and mugs. 

"President did the club really…?"

"Yeah, the school board gave me a notice that the pottery club has been disbanded, and we have two days to pack everything. Because they will use this room for a new club."

"Then how about me?"

"You'll be moved to another club with also a small number of members, of course."

Oh no—

That was literally a nightmare. I didn't want to be assigned randomly. 

"Have you texted that one student beside me about the disband?" I asked. I wished she hadn't texted that rich kid yet, so I had hope that he would purchase the club.

To my disappointment, the Club president nodded, "I told him about this. And he hasn't replied yet. Maybe he already has a plan to move to another club."

Shit, I really needed that brat to buy the club. Maybe I needed to talk to him about this. 

"President, can I get his number?" I asked. If this brat didn't move faster, then I had to push him. 

"Hm? I don't know what do you want, since you two will most likely get separated after this, but sure…." 

The President gave me this rich kid's number, and then I asked, "Who's his name?"

"Logan, Logan Walker."

I frowned for a second. For some reason, I've heard that name once somewhere in my previous life. But I couldn't recall where and when. 

Oh well, I would just name him based on his most obvious personality trait,

Rich Brat Logan. 

I texted him first and did it politely;

—

Emmy: Hello, I'm Emmelyn Jones, from the same club as you, the Pottery Club. Have you received the news about the club disband? Can we talk about this? Because I want to save the club, you're the only one in this club with me. Thanks.

—

Ah, how polite. I almost laughed at my formal text. 

I helped the President clear the Club room, and she thanked me for being so dedicated to the Pottery Club. 

Yeah, I didn't even know how to use that spin table thingy I saw on YouTube once. But at least I could save the club, right?

It took me full two hours of backbreaking work to clean the room with the President. I cracked my back and checked the phone in case that brat finally texted back. 

…

Nope, no reply.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance. Thus I texted him again;

—

Emmy: Hello, would you mind meeting up somewhere? We really need to talk this out. I'm very passionate about pottery, and I want to save this club.

—

I excused myself and left the Club building after helping the President. 

She told me we had two days before the Pottery Club would be officially disbanded, so I had to convince that rich brat to pay somehow. 

I went home and checked the text. That brat still hadn't replied yet. 

"Oh, come on, you're my only saving grace in this. I don't know anyone rich enough to buy a club room, not in two days!" I complained. But I didn't want to sound desperate, so I'd rather text him tomorrow. 

**

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

I opened my eyes slightly as I heard the notification on my phone. I searched my phone, still half sleeping, and when I found it, I checked the time.

"Who the heck texted me in the middle of the night?!"

I got four texts from Rich Brat Logan in the middle of the night; 

—

Logan: I can help.

Logan: I can save that dying club alone.

Logan: But I don't need someone like you in the Pottery Club. Move to another club first.

Logan: What can you do anyway? Recruiting people to play with clay?

—

Bitch, this bratty kid really got me triggered at one o'clock. Did he really intend to kick me and have the Pottery Club all for himself?! 

Thus, I washed my face and prepared to argue with him in the middle of the night.

—

Emmy: Hey, sorry that I might not be much help. But we can start by recruiting, don't you think? Or maybe you have another way? 

Emmy: I really don't want to leave the Pottery Club, though. I have a passion for it, I'm sorry.

Logan: I don't need half-assed people inside the club. They're a nuisance. 

Emmy: I'm not half-assed. I really like Pottery.

Emmy: Besides, what can you do with only one student inside the club? How can you maintain it?

—

Oh god, I didn't even like pottery in the first place. I was worried that I might've spoken too much. 

But I really need him to buy that room.

—

Logan: With money. 

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