The dining room was bathed in soft sunlight that spilled through tall, sheer curtains. The long oak table gleamed beneath plates of steaming pancakes, fresh berries, bacon, and syrup pitchers. The clinking of cutlery and the occasional laughter filled the air.
Scott sat at the head of the table in a loose grey hoodie, hair slightly tousled. Sky and Kyle flanked him on either side, already halfway through their second plates. Across from them sat Fiona, graceful as ever in her house robe, sipping her herbal tea, while Summer, chewed her toast aggressively like it had wronged her.
"Okay, so…" Summer leaned in dramatically, eyes wide.
Scott glanced up, half-interested. "What now?"
"Lizzie said Sevira is a gold-digging slut."
The fork in Scott's hand froze mid-air.
A tense silence dropped over the table like a thick blanket.
Fiona raised an eyebrow. Kyle blinked. Sky looked up slowly from his glass of orange juice, lips twitching.
"She said what?" Scott asked, voice eerily calm.
Summer rolled her eyes. "That Sevira is only being nice to you because of your money, and she's always flirting with guys. Lizzie said she pretends to be all sweet but—"
"That's bullsh*t," Kyle muttered, shaking his head. "Sevira's the most lowkey, humble person I've met."
"Yeah," Sky added, amused. "She doesn't even like fancy stuff."
Summer shrugged. "I know she's lying. I'm not stupid. Lizzie's mad because you chose Sevira over her. Again."
Scott pushed his plate slightly forward, appetite gone. His jaw clenched. "Why would she even say that about her?"
"Because Lizzie's bitter," Fiona said smoothly, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "She's been chasing you for years. Sevira's the first girl you've genuinely connected with, and that kills her."
Scott leaned back in his chair, letting out a breath.
"I just hate that she said that." he muttered.
"Me too," Sky said, popping a strawberry into his mouth. "She's nothing like those girls. She's not all over you like they were."
Summer, grinning now, sat up straighter. "Speaking of which… you keep rejecting girls left and right. Like… why, though?"
Scott blinked at her, annoyed. "Because I'm not interested?"
Summer ignored his tone. "You ghosted Paris after three days. Said no to Chloe's yacht party. Curved Naomi at the pool. Let's not even talk about Daniella—she literally made cupcakes with your initials—"
"She spelled his name with two T's," Kyle interrupted, laughing. "Scotttt."
Scott sighed. "They're not my type."
Summer raised an eyebrow. "Then what is your type?"
Fiona, without looking up from her tea, answered smoothly, "Sevira."
Scott blinked.
Sky and Kyle exchanged look laughing.
Summer smirked, eyes darting to her brother. "Ohhh, Mama said it."
Scott ran a hand over his face, suddenly flushed.
Fiona just smiled gently. "You can keep pretending, sweetheart, but it's obvious."
Scott didn't answer.
But his silence said everything.
—————
The cafeteria was its usual midday mess — trays clattering, sneakers squeaking on linoleum, laughter echoing off painted brick walls.
Sevira sat with Alex and Emma at their usual table near the window. Her pink smoothie glowed in the sun next to her untouched sandwich. They were halfway through gossiping about a pop quiz when a sudden hush swept through the nearby tables.
Click-clack. Click-clack.
Lizzie's heels struck the floor like a warning shot. She was flanked by her two shadows — Abby, chewing gum with her head high, and Kira, smirking as though the air belonged to her.
They stopped at Sevira's table without a word.
Alex narrowed his eyes. Emma sat back in her chair, arms crossed.
"Aw," Lizzie said sweetly, brushing a strand of hair from her shoulder. "Look at little Miss Nobody trying to act like she belongs."
Sevira looked up slowly. "Can I help you?"
"Oh, no," Lizzie smiled. "Just figured I'd help you help yourself."
Then, without flinching, she picked up Sevira's drink — and poured it directly over her head.
Gasps. Loud ones. A ripple of shock spread across the cafeteria like fire through dry leaves.
Sevira's mouth parted in shock, smoothie dripping down her hair onto her sweater. She blinked, stunned.
Emma shot up from her seat so fast her chair screeched back. "Are you crazy?!"
Alex moved in front of Sevira instantly, gripping Lizzie's wrist. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Lizzie yanked her arm away. "Stay out of it, Alex. This is between me and the girl who doesn't know her place."
Abby snickered. Kira pulled out her phone like it was a movie.
"You think just because Scott gave you attention, you're special?" Lizzie spat. "He's not for girls like you. He's a hero. A legacy. You're just… a moment."
Emma shoved past Alex and grabbed napkins, pressing them into Sevira's hands. "Let's go. She's not worth it."
Sevira didn't say a word — she stood slowly, shaking, but holding her chin high.
"Go clean up," Alex muttered, shooting daggers at Lizzie. "We got this."
As they turned to leave, a voice rang across the cafeteria like a whip.
"Lizzie."
Everyone turned.
Scott stood at the entrance, tray in hand, frozen in place. Sky beside him. Kyle next. All three watching. All three tense.
Scott's eyes found Sevira — her sticky hair, her soaked shirt, the way she wouldn't even look up.
Then they cut to Lizzie.
She smirked, adjusted her lip gloss, and folded her arms like she was ready for her moment.
Scott didn't smile. He didn't blink. He simply set his tray down on the nearest table, walked over, and took Lizzie's arm.
"Let's talk," he said quietly.
She lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh… okay—"
He led her out of the cafeteria through the side doors.
The second they were alone in the hallway, her voice changed.
"I knew you'd come," she breathed, flipping her hair. "Look, I know you're probably mad, but I only did that because I care. She's—"
"Don't," he said, his voice low.
Lizzie blinked. "What?"
Scott stepped back, jaw clenched. "Don't talk about her. Not like that. Not ever again."
"But Scott—"
"You embarrassed her. In front of the whole school. And for what? Because you can't handle the fact that I'm not interested in you?"
Lizzie's mouth dropped open, eyes wide.
"I'm not yours. I've never been yours," he continued. "And you? You're acting like a bully. I don't like bullies."
"But… I like you," she said quietly, voice trembling now. "I've liked you since middle school. You know that. We used to—"
"I don't care," he said bluntly.
Tears welled up in her eyes. "She doesn't even fit—she's not part of our world. You deserve someone who—"
"I deserve someone real," he interrupted. "And Sevira? She's everything you're not."
Lizzie's breath caught.
"If you ever talk about her again… I promise you, Lizzie, I won't just walk away next time. You don't want to see the other side of me."
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.
Lizzie stood there alone, heartbroken — and furious.
Just as Lizzie stormed back into the cafeteria — cheeks red, ego bruised, and mascara already threatening to smear — she barely made it three steps past the doorway…
SPLASH!
A full cup of orange soda exploded across her face with a loud splat, dripping down her perfect curls and soaking the collar of her designer cardigan.
Gasps echoed again.
She froze.
Alex stood there, expression calm, arm still outstretched — empty cup in hand.
"I guess we're even now," She said coolly.
Lizzie's mouth opened wide in shock. "You—!"
But she didn't get the words out.
She just let out a scream — loud, piercing and frustrated.
The entire cafeteria turned to look.
Phones were raised.
Whispers broke out.
Some even chuckled.
And that was it.
Lizzie didn't say another word. She turned sharply and marched out, her heels echoing down the corridor like thunder.
Behind her, Abby and Kira stood frozen, half-mortified, half-amused.
After a long awkward pause, Abby grabbed following Lizzie without a word. Kira joined.
No one followed them.
Except laughter.
And all eyes drifted back to Alex… who went out check on her sister.
————
The auditorium was buzzing with energy.
Bright lights beamed down on the stage, casting a soft glow on the polished wooden floors. Velvet red curtains rippled with every breeze, and the air smelled like fresh hairspray, makeup, and nerves. Rows of students, teachers, and a few parents filled the seats, whispering, pointing, holding up phones, and flipping through performance programs.
Backstage was a chaotic orchestra of motion—students in glittery outfits warming up their voices, makeup artists doing last-minute touch-ups, someone curling a fringe in a rush, others stretching their legs with tiny dancer steps. Costumes shimmered under the overhead lights as music echoed from distant speakers.
Mr. Jackson, the music teacher and show coordinator, paced up and down with a clipboard in his hand, his brows furrowed behind his glasses. "Next team up in twenty minutes! I need everyone lined up!"
In the audience, Scott, Sky, and Kyle sat side by side — dressed casually but sharp, like the VIP boys they were. They leaned back in their seats, sipping drinks from paper cups as they casually critiqued each performance.
"That girl just hit a dolphin note," Sky whispered, earning a snort from Kyle.
"She's not bad, though," Scott shrugged. "Nervous. But not bad."
They clapped politely as each performance ended, sharing quiet laughs and inside jokes. Scott's eyes occasionally flicked to the side of the stage, checking for Sevira.
When one overly dramatic singer tripped over her mic cord and had to ad-lib, Kyle nearly lost it. "Bro, she just turned it into a spoken word piece," he whispered. They all burst out laughing
Meanwhile backstage, Sevira, dressed in a silver-blue outfit with delicate rhinestones, looked breathtaking. Her hair was curled just right, lips tinted berry red, and her eyes lined perfectly.
Her heart thudded with excitement as she warmed up her vocals softly. Her best friends — Alex, Emma, and Sky — had already come by to wish her luck earlier. She was nervous, but ready.
Then came the news.
"Joe's sick," Mr. Jackson announced to the team.
A ripple of shock went through everyone.
"Sick?" Sevira turned sharply. "As in, not coming?"
"He's not answering. His sister said he's been vomiting all night."
There was a tense pause.
Mr. Jackson rubbed his temple. "Scott. You know the routine. You're stepping in."
Scott blinked. "What? Me?"
"You filled in during rehearsals once. You remember it?"
Scott gave a slow grin. "Yeah. I got it."
Sevira couldn't help the way her heart flipped — both from nerves and from Scott being her new partner.
With just 10 minutes left to perform, the girls were rushed into the dressing room for final touch-ups. Powder brushed cheeks, glitter sparkled, and a stylist carefully adjusted Sevira's outfit.
"I'll be back," Sevira whispered" Gotta pee or she'll explode on stage.
She rushed down the narrow hallway toward the restrooms.
As she entered the restroom, the world outside grew quieter. She went into a stall quickly.
But just as she flushed and turned to leave…
CLICK.
She grabbed the handle.
It wouldn't budge.
"What the—?" Sevira rattled it. "Hello?"
Silence.
Then she heard it — faint footsteps walking away, heels clicking confidently on the tiles. "Stay out of mine life."
She recognized the voice.
Lizzie.
Sevira began to panic.
She banged on the door. "Hey! Is someone out there?! I'm locked in!"
⸻
Back on stage, Mr. Jackson looked at the stage manager.
"Where is Sevira?! We go live in five!"
Emma, Alex, and Kyle rushed backstage, searching everywhere.
"She's not back yet?" Alex asked sharply.
Mr. Jackson cursed under his breath. "We don't have time."
Lizzie stood nearby, pretending to be confused, though her eyes glittered with excitement.
Mr. Jackson turned. "Lizzie. You're up. You know the song. You're Sevira's backup anyway."
Lizzie lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Of course! I'm ready!" She beamed, hurrying to the makeup chair as her friends Abby and Kira fixed her mic pack and fluffed her curls.
Kyle looked at Scott.
Emma and Alex paced.
"She's never late," Emma whispered.
"Something's wrong," Alex muttered.
⸻
Sevira screamed and pounded on the door.
"Help! Someone! I'm locked in!"
She kept banging until her hands hurt.
No one answered.
Scott had looked for her the all did but no one found her.
No time, they had to prepare, they were up next.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Sevira's fists slammed into the metal stall door, her palms already sore, knuckles turning red.
"Someone help!" she cried out again, but her voice echoed uselessly.
Then — silence.
She stepped back, panting, her eyes darting around the tiny space. There was no window. No other door. Time was slipping through her fingers like sand.
Her heart raced.
Then came the thought. That dangerous thought she'd always avoided.
Use your powers.
No. Not here. Not now.
But what if you don't? You'll lose your chance. The show. The team. Scott…
Her breathing slowed.
Her fingers stretched out toward the door handle. A soft blue glow shimmered faintly from her palm.
"No one will know," she whispered to herself.
With a focused breath, Sevira pressed her fingers to the lock.
Click.
The bolt slid open like it had never been stuck. The door creaked wide.
She stood still for a second — her heart pounding from fear, adrenaline… and magic.
Then she ran.
⸻
Backstage, the spotlight hit Lizzie as she stepped confidently toward the curtain.
The opening beats of the music echoed through the auditorium — a soft, suspenseful intro with a dramatic build-up.
Lizzie smirked, already mouthing the lyrics in anticipation.
Mr. Jackson stood near the wings, rubbing his temples, looking like he was about to pass out from nerves.
Then—
"WAIT!"
A voice burst from the hallway.
Everyone turned.
Sevira. Hair tousled, breathless, eyes blazing.
She stepped forward just as Lizzie was about to go on stage and grabbed her hand.
Lizzie froze.
"What the hell—" Lizzie stammered.
Sevira locked eyes with her, her voice low and steady:
"You locked me in. But you won't take this stage from me."
Lizzie's mouth opened, stunned.
Mr. Jackson blinked in disbelief. "Sevira! You're here?! Good, good, good — offstage, Lizzie. Offstage, quick!"
Lizzie tried to protest but was ushered away, still in shock.
The music looped back to the intro. Scott appeared at Sevira's side, offering a small grin and his hand.
"Ready?" he asked softly.
Sevira nodded, still catching her breath.
"Let's go win this thing."
⸻
The curtains parted.
The stage lights flared to life, casting a warm golden glow.
As Sevira and Scott stepped forward, the entire auditorium seemed to hold its breath.
Then… the music dropped.
A soft piano chord echoed, followed by a delicate guitar strum. The stage sparkled under the lights, and Sevira's voice began — low, emotional, pure.
"When the world closed in, and the night got cold…
I still found you in the silence, a hand I could hold…"
Her voice soared like it came straight from the soul, raw and achingly beautiful. Her eyes never left Scott's.
Then Scott joined in, his voice deep and rich, blending with hers like they were made to sing together.
"We were just two stars that collided too soon…
But somehow we shine in a broken room…"
The harmony between them was magnetic. The auditorium was silent — no whisper, no phone flashes, just awe. Others singing but they were the main leads.
Sevira moved across the stage, her dress shimmering with each step. Scott followed, their chemistry electric but intimate — every glance, every smile, real.
The backup dancers moved softly behind them, shadows to their spotlight.
Then came the final verse — Sevira's solo.
She closed her eyes, lifted her chin slightly, and sang with everything inside her.
"Even if I fall, even if I break,
I'd still choose this love, even with all the ache…"
Her voice cracked ever so slightly on the last word — not a mistake, but emotion.
By the time the last note faded, you could hear a pin drop.
Then—
Thunderous applause.
People jumped to their feet. Screams. Claps. The roar of students, teachers, and judges.
Scott turned to Sevira with a look of admiration. She was blinking rapidly — her emotions threatening to spill.
They bowed together, hand in hand.
Backstage, Mr. Jackson was wiping his eyes like a proud dad. Alex and Emma were screaming. Sky and Kyle high-fived. Even Lizzie stood frozen behind the curtain, jaw clenched in disbelief.
⸻
Later that night, after a few more performances, the judge's scores were announced.
"In second place…"
The host paused.
"MY high school."
The crowd cheered again. Silver confetti fell from above as the team ran on stage to receive their medals.
Sevira stood beside Scott, a silver medal around her neck, her face glowing with happiness and disbelief.
They didn't win first — but they'd won hearts.
And for her, that was everything.
Scott leaned closer.
"You saved the night."
Sevira smiled.
"You saved me."
Their eyes met.
Somewhere in the crowd, Lizzie stormed out.
But Sevira didn't even notice.
This night was hers.