The day had finally arrived. A buzzing energy filled the air as I stepped through the gates of the college. The entire campus had been transformed—streamers danced in the wind, fairy lights sparkled from trees, and the main hall glowed with a magical golden hue. It looked straight out of a dream.
I stood near the entrance in my soft, flowing pink gown. My curls cascaded down my shoulders like silk, and my makeup was exactly how I wanted—subtle, dewy, and elegant. Long lashes framed my eyes, giving them just enough drama. I felt confident, poised... maybe a little anxious too.
As I walked through the crowd, eyes searching for a certain someone, I was suddenly pulled into a corner. I gasped, almost ready to scream—until a warm hand covered my mouth.
"Shh... it's just me," a familiar voice whispered.
It was Danny.
And my heart nearly skipped a beat.
God, he looked like he had just stepped out of a fantasy. A charcoal-grey suit clung to his tall frame, perfectly tailored to highlight his broad shoulders and the slight ripple of muscle underneath. His hair fell in soft, tousled waves over his forehead, and those piercing blue eyes shimmered under the lights. If Greek gods wore Hugo Boss, this is what they'd look like.
"You look absolutely stunning, love," he said, his voice low and sweet.
I blushed furiously. "You look… beautiful too," I whispered, trying to sound composed.
He smiled, leaned in, and kissed my forehead. "Mmm, thank you."
"Come on," I said, trying to breathe normally again. "Let's head backstage."
He nodded and took my hand, interlacing our fingers as we moved through the bustling crowd.
Backstage was a frenzy of nerves and last-minute prep. Students were pacing, fixing costumes, murmuring lines. Olivia stood nearby in her sleek silver dress, twirling elegantly before her name was called for her dance performance. She moved like water on stage—graceful, composed.
Then came the moment.
Our names echoed through the speaker system. "Danny Cole Fraser and Ross De Silva, please come to the stage."
My heart thundered. My hands went cold. But Danny gave mine a firm squeeze and leaned in.
"You've got this," he whispered.
We stepped onto the stage, lights blinding but hearts steady.
Danny spoke first—his voice confident and clear. The audience, especially the girls, visibly swooned. He had that kind of effortless charm. Then it was my turn. I stepped forward, took a calming breath, closed my eyes… and opened them with fire.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," I began, my voice steady and commanding.
We delivered our speech in seamless rhythm, our voices bouncing off each other in perfect sync. The topic had seemed intimidating at first, but standing beside him, I felt strong, sure, and purposeful. The judges watched intently, some nodding, some smiling.
And then—it was over.
We walked off-stage, hearts racing. Danny pulled me into a warm hug.
"You were incredible," he whispered against my ear.
"You too," I smiled, still catching my breath.
We took our seats in the audience as the final performances wrapped up. And then, the moment of truth.
Our teacher walked onstage holding a sheet of paper, her face unreadable.
"I have the results of the Maxton Meet," she announced, voice echoing through the auditorium. The entire hall fell into a hush.
"In third place... Kenneth Martin for solo recitation."
The crowd clapped politely.
"In second place… Olivia Rhodes for classical dance."
More applause.
Danny reached for my hand, and I gripped his tightly, our palms cold with anticipation.
"And in first place… for an outstanding performance in oration—Danny Cole Fraser and Ross De Silva!"
For a second, I thought my heart had stopped.
Then the room exploded.
People were cheering, clapping, some even standing. Danny and I just looked at each other—eyes wide, then breaking into wild grins. He pulled me up, and we embraced like we'd won the world.
Because in that moment, we had.