The auditorium was fuller this time, if that was even possible. Every final year student had shown up—not just out of obligation, but genuine interest. The venue decision had proven the committee could deliver. Now they wanted to see what came next.
Yuki stood on stage beside Isla, both of them flanking the projector screen. Yuki's calm demeanor contrasted with Isla's visible nerves, but together they created an oddly compelling dynamic.
"Good afternoon," Yuki began, her voice soft but clear. "Today, we present the graduation theme that will guide all aesthetic decisions moving forward."
The lights dimmed. The screen illuminated with the first mood board.
Legacy in Bloom.
Rich emerald greens cascaded across the display, accented by gold filigree and soft cream tones. Images of the Conservatory blended seamlessly with floral arrangements, draped fabrics, and elegant table settings. It was sophisticated, timeless, and undeniably beautiful.
The room fell silent, absorbing the visuals.
Isla stepped forward, her voice steadier than Mabelle expected. "The theme represents Goldridge's history—our legacy—while acknowledging that we're all on the verge of blooming into our futures. The Conservatory's natural beauty enhances this concept, making the space feel alive."
Yuki added, "All decorations will be sourced sustainably. We've partnered with local florists and eco-conscious vendors to ensure the environmental impact is minimal."
For a moment, Mabelle thought they'd nailed it. The room seemed captivated.
Then a hand shot up near the back. A girl from the Sweden branch—tall, sharp-featured, with an expression that suggested she'd been waiting for this moment.
"Yes?" Yuki acknowledged.
The girl stood. "It's pretty. But isn't it a bit... safe? Goldridge is about excellence, innovation, pushing boundaries. This feels like something you'd see at any garden wedding."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Another hand. This time, a guy from the US branch. "I agree. Where's the edge? The boldness? This is our last big moment together—shouldn't it feel more... iconic?"
Mabelle's stomach dropped. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Yuki remained composed, but Isla looked like she wanted to disappear. Mabelle stood from her seat in the front row, turning to face the crowd.
"Legacy in Bloom isn't safe," Mabelle said firmly. "It's intentional. We're not trying to be flashy for the sake of it. We're honoring where we came from while celebrating where we're going. That's not weakness—that's maturity."
The Sweden girl crossed her arms. "But shouldn't we have been given more options? Why does the committee get to decide everything?"
"We don't," Celeste interjected, standing beside Mabelle. "That's literally why we're here. If you don't approve it, we go back to the drawing board. That's how this works."
Zion stood as well, his voice cutting through the tension. "Let's vote. All in favor of Legacy in Bloom?"
Hands rose—maybe half the room. Not enough.
"Opposed?"
Fewer hands, but enough to signal dissent.
"Abstaining?"
The rest. A split room.
Astrid appeared at the edge of the stage, her expression unreadable. "Motion fails. We'll revisit theme options and present alternatives next week."
The auditorium buzzed with mixed reactions—some disappointed, others vindicated. Yuki bowed slightly, her face neutral, but Mabelle could see the flicker of hurt in her eyes.
Isla walked off stage without a word.
Committee Room – Emergency Meeting
An hour later, the committee reconvened, and the tension was suffocating.
"This is ridiculous," Dante said, leaning back in his chair. "We had a solid theme. The room was just being difficult."
"They have the right to be difficult," Astrid countered. "That's the point of democracy."
"Democracy's great until people vote stupid," Dante muttered.
"Careful," Elias warned.
Yuki sat quietly, hands folded in her lap. "I can revise. Create new options."
"You shouldn't have to," Isla said, her voice sharper than usual. "Your designs were perfect."
"Perfect to us," Amara said. "Not to them. We have to accept that."
The room fell silent.
Mabelle rubbed her temples. "We'll present three themes next time. Give them real choices. But right now, we need to move forward with other decisions. Entertainment—Dante, Amara, where are we?"
Dante and Amara exchanged a look that could've curdled milk.
"We have... differing opinions," Amara said carefully.
"That's putting it lightly," Dante replied.
"Explain," Astrid said, already pulling up a notes document.
Dante leaned forward. "I want live performances. Student talent. Keep it authentic, community-driven. Band, solo acts, maybe a dance crew. Make it feel like us."
Amara shook her head. "That's amateurish. This is a formal ceremony with international guests, parents, sponsors. We need professional entertainment—a reputable DJ, maybe a string quartet for the processional. Polished. Prestigious."
"Boring," Dante shot back.
"Safe," Amara corrected.
"We just got roasted for being too safe!" Dante argued. "You want to double down on that?"
"I want to not embarrass ourselves in front of people who matter," Amara snapped.
The room tensed.
Tariq spoke up, his tone measured. "What if we compromise? Professional musicians for the ceremony itself—processional, recessional. Student performances for the reception afterward. Best of both."
Dante considered it. "I could work with that."
Amara hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But the students have to audition. No pity slots."
"Deal," Dante said.
"Vote?" Astrid asked.
All hands went up.
"Motion passes," Astrid said, making a note. "Dante and Amara, coordinate auditions. Next issue—speeches."
Mabelle felt her chest tighten. She'd been dreading this.
"We have four speaking slots," Celeste said, pulling up the ceremony outline. "Opening remarks, valedictorian address, branch representative speeches, and closing remarks."
"Who's valedictorian?" Elias asked.
"Highest GPA across all branches," Astrid replied, checking her tablet. "That would be... Zion Vale."
The room went still.
Zion looked up, genuinely surprised. "Me?"
"By 0.3 points," Astrid confirmed. "Congratulations."
Dante let out a low whistle. "Damn, Vale. Didn't see that coming."
Amara's jaw tightened, but she said nothing.
Zion looked uncomfortable. "I don't have to take it. If someone else wants—"
"You earned it," Mabelle said firmly. "You're giving that speech."
Zion met her eyes, then nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Branch representatives?" Tariq asked.
"One per branch," Celeste said. "We need to nominate."
The discussion devolved quickly.
"Amara should represent the US," Dante said. "She's been our top academic for years."
"Agreed," Amara said coolly.
"Elias for Sweden," Astrid added. "No contest."
Elias inclined his head in acknowledgment.
"Tariq for Dubai," Yuki suggested softly. "Your composure under pressure is unmatched."
Tariq smiled faintly. "I'm honored."
"That leaves UK and Tokyo," Mabelle said.
"Yuki for Tokyo," Isla said immediately. "Obviously."
Yuki's eyes widened. "I—are you certain?"
"Absolutely," Isla said. "You're brilliant, and you deserve to be heard."
Yuki bowed her head, clearly moved. "Thank you."
"And for UK..." Celeste looked at Mabelle. "It should be you."
Mabelle blinked. "What? No. You've done just as much—"
"You held us together," Celeste interrupted. "When everything fell apart with Kevin, with Lucian—you were the glue. This should be yours."
The committee murmured agreement.
Mabelle felt her throat tighten. "I don't know what to say."
"Say yes," Zion said quietly.
Mabelle looked around the table—at the faces of people who'd started as rivals and somehow become something close to allies.
"Yes," she whispered. "Okay."
"Finalized," Astrid said, typing rapidly. "Zion Vale, valedictorian. Amara Kingsley, Elias Norén, Tariq Al-Farsi, Yuki Tanaka, and Mabelle Carter as branch representatives. Vote to approve?"
Hands rose unanimously.
"Motion passes," Astrid declared. "Meeting adjourned. Theme revisions due in three days."
Later That Night – Library Study Room
Mabelle sat across from Celeste, both surrounded by open laptops, speech drafts, and empty coffee cups.
"I can't believe I have to write this," Mabelle muttered, staring at the blank document.
"You'll be great," Celeste said. "Just speak from the heart. That's what people connect with."
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one standing in front of three hundred people."
Celeste smiled. "You've faced worse. Kevin. Lucian. Graduation speeches are nothing."
Mabelle laughed despite herself. "Fair point."
Her phone buzzed. A text from Zion.
Zion: Can't sleep. Too many thoughts. Want to talk?
Mabelle smiled.
Mabelle: Meet me on the roof in 10.
She grabbed her jacket and headed out, leaving Celeste to her own work.
The Roof
Zion was already there when she arrived, sitting on the ledge, legs dangling over the edge.
"Hey," Mabelle said, sitting beside him.
"Hey."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the city lights twinkling below.
"Valedictorian," Mabelle said softly. "How does it feel?"
Zion exhaled slowly. "Weird. Like I don't deserve it."
"You do."
"After everything I did to Kevin? After becoming exactly what I hated?"
Mabelle turned to him. "You didn't become Kevin. You fought back. There's a difference."
"Is there?" Zion asked, his voice raw. "Because some days, I'm not sure."
Mabelle took his hand. "Then let the speech be your answer. Prove to yourself—and everyone else—that you're more than that moment. Show them who you really are."
Zion looked at her, something shifting in his expression. "What if I don't know who that is anymore?"
"Then we'll figure it out together," Mabelle said. "Like we always do."
Zion pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Good thing you'll never have to find out," Mabelle whispered.
They stayed like that for a long time, the world moving around them, but for once, everything felt still.