Andrés Cavindish
Crownridge looked perfect from the street. Tall glass buildings, manicured walkways, and security guards posted at every gate. Students arrived in cars their parents drove, some in SUVs, some in sedans with tinted windows. Most of them had been raised to belong here. Inside, the campus felt quieter, more controlled. Conversations were measured. Laughter came in small doses. Crownridge had its own rules, its own hierarchy. Money, influence, and reputation moved quietly among the students, and everyone knew their place—or pretended to. In the Student Supreme Government office, papers lay neatly across a long table. A few officers whispered quietly among themselves. The air was tense but calm. Everyone knew who commanded the room. Andrés Cavindish leaned against the table. Filipino-British. Third year. SSG President. Calm, precise, and the kind of person whose quiet authority made others step back automatically. “Administration wants us to approve the forum budget,” one officer said,
About Andrés Cavindish
Crownridge looked perfect from the street. Tall glass buildings, manicured walkways, and security guards posted at every gate. Students arrived in cars their parents drove, some in SUVs, some in sedans with tinted windows. Most of them had been raised to belong here. Inside, the campus felt quieter, more controlled. Conversations were measured....Read more