"About one million students are members of ZETACIRCLE… the rest? Oops."
That single sentence floated across the open-air concert ground like smoke — thin, dangerous, and impossible to ignore.
Was tonight a test of connection?
Of popularity?
Of boldness?
Nobody knew.
But one thing was clear:
Every school was on its own.
Students rushed around in circles, whispering, begging, shouting, bargaining — anything to find access to ZETACIRCLE, the exclusive group where nominations for Studlist 3.0 were happening in real time.
But joining the group wasn't open.
It wasn't public.
And it definitely wasn't fair.
Only admins could add new members.
Only VIP schools had multiple students inside.
And AllStars Foundation?
Just one representative.
MideFlex.
He spotted Peace adjusting her badge under the bright stage lights. His heart jumped; he hurried to her.
"Good evening," he said, breathless.
She turned slightly, her smooth smile polite but distant. "What do you want, MideFlex?"
"Can you… add my schoolmates to ZETACIRCLE? Like you added me that night?"
"I'm sorry, no." Peace blinked slowly, almost amused. "I was only allowed to add one person I knew. That was the rule."
"So I can add only one?"
"You didn't add anyone that night?" She raised her brows. "That was a timed offer. Anyone you could add had to be added immediately. The window closed ages ago." She began turning away.
"So what do I do?" MideFlex asked quietly. "I don't even care about Studlist 3.0… but I care about my friends."
He gently held her hand to stop her.
Peace sighed. "You're the only ASF student in the group. You'll be fine."
She slipped her hand out of his.
"What do you want in return? I don't have any more lollipops."
He smiled weakly, trying to lighten her mood.
"I don't want anything," she replied. "Just convince an admin. Or convince someone inside the group. That's the only way."
And with that, she walked off.
"Very toxic, Peace…" he muttered, heading back to his schoolmates.
BigDave was the first to speak. "Bro, it's not by force to chase that award."
"But it's our senior year," Lolade countered sharply. "We won't be here next year to represent AllStars, David."
"So you're chasing something you don't even have access to?" AraBaddie folded her arms, unimpressed.
"At least I'm doing something," Lolade snapped back.
"Guys, let's calm down," Gift cut in as she spotted MideFlex. "Mide, what did she say?"
"She can't add anyone."
His voice was flat. Emotionless.
"You see?" AraBaddie hissed. "Forget the whole thing. Why are they even using ZETACIRCLE to nominate? Why not judges?"
"Permit me to remind you," Lolade stepped forward angrily, "it's our night to breathe, not the judges'. They made it their way. We have to show them we belong. This is our first and last time here. Don't you get it?"
"No, I don't," AraBaddie replied and walked off.
Lolade hissed and left too.
"I'll talk to AraBaddie," BigDave said, heading after her.
"I'll talk to Lolade," Gift added.
"I'll talk to myself then," MideFlex joked.
"No," Gift said quickly. "Talk to Zad for us."
"Excuse me? Zad?"
"He's with Royal Academy now. He might help."
"Help?" BigDave returned briefly, frowning. "Or have you forgotten what we suffered because someone wanted alcohol? We lost a lot. I'm not begging him to add me to some stupid group everybody wants."
He stormed off again.
Gift sighed and looked at MideFlex.
"I'm out," he said. "You talk to him. I'll talk to Lolade now."
"Alright," she said softly. "And if he agrees… you all owe me a wish."
"A wish?" he blinked.
"Deal."
She adjusted her fitted white designer crop-top underneath an ash-grey varsity jacket embroidered with her ASF badge in gold. High-waisted black cargo pants with silver buckles hugged her waist. Fresh white Air Force sneakers gleamed under the lights. Her long knotless braids were pulled into a high ponytail, the tips fading into honey-brown. Her diamond studs shimmered with every movement, and her bracelets clinked lightly as she walked.
Gift inhaled deeply… then headed toward the grand stage where the three hosts sat like royalty.
Meanwhile, the crowd behind her was boiling.
About 95% of students weren't in the group.
It wasn't fair and everybody knew it.
If ZETACIRCLE placed money on entry, students would pay without blinking.
But instead, the admins sat comfortably above, while students screamed their frustrations from afar.
Security blocked anyone from getting close.
Gift continued walking.
The backstage was dim, with only two securities snoring beside the equipment trucks. She slipped past them… quiet like smoke.
But when she reached the right side of the stage, a security man eating suya spotted her instantly.
"Hey! Hey, lady—no authorized access from this side."
"I'm just here to see someone," Gift said quickly.
"Who exactly?"
"Zad Okoye."
The security chuckled. "Well, you can't go inside. He's on stage. You can message him from backstage."
"I don't have his number."
"Oh? So you don't know him, do you?"
He stepped closer and grabbed her arm. "Let's go. Out!."
"Let me go!" Gift snapped, struggling as the man tried to pull her away.
At that exact moment, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Zad emerged from the restroom, adjusting his jacket.
The security immediately halted.
"Zad Okoye," he said, "do you know her?"
Zad froze when his eyes met Gift's.
For her to come backstage… for ZETACIRCLE… things were serious.
"Yes, sir," he said calmly. "Let her go."
The grip loosened instantly.
Zad walked toward her. "How are you?" he asked quietly.
Gift eyed the restroom behind him. "Still spending forever in there? Just like that day Lizzy and Diana were fighting rooftop..."
"What do you want?" he cut in sharply.
"ASF wants access to ZETACIRCLE," Gift said firmly. "We need your admin help."
He scoffed. "Just like that?" A cruel smile tugged at his lips. "Impossible."
"It's not by force. We can pay you."
"How much? A hundred naira?" he mocked.
"A hundred dollars if you want," Gift shot back.
Zad actually paused.
"Do you think I'm here to joke?" she asked.
"Do you think I'm joking?" Zad replied coldly.
Gift didn't blink. "Then why allow only 5% of the population to nominate? It makes no sense unless you're scared of losing."
"Excuse me?" Zad's eyes widened.
"Yes, excuse you!" Gift snapped. "You admins are acting foolish. Put ₦100k entry fee, people will pay! Your account would blow. But instead, you sit up there like kings because students need your help. Your ego is your downfall."
"Are you jealous?" he smirked. "Last I checked, you're a low-key babe. How's Jayden, by the way? He's glowing up. Girls adore him now."
"He's not part of this conversation."
"Likewise what we're doing now," he said and tried to walk away.
Gift moved in front of him, blocking his path.
"What do you want?" she demanded.
"What do you have?" Zad replied. "Money won't work. Respect maybe… but you don't have that yet."
Gift's jaw tightened. She took one step closer, her voice low and sharp.
"Be grateful your Rich Demons gang is still respected. You people should've been forgotten."
"Are you done?" Zad asked, completely unfazed.
Before she could respond, voices echoed behind them — loud, approaching.
Gift turned.
Zad turned.
The security man and… Peace.
"Peace?" Gift breathed out.
"Oh, Gift?" Peace smiled sweetly. "I need Zad for a minute. Do you mind leaving the backstage?"
"Excuse me?" Gift blinked in disbelief as Peace casually grabbed Zad by the arm.
Without another word, Peace pulled him toward the front-stage shadows, the dark area behind the spotlights where only VIPs stood.
Gift remained rooted where she was.
What was going on?
Nobody knew.
But one thing was certain:
Tonight had only just begun.