The ballroom glimmers under soft golden lights — laughter, perfume, and music weaving through the air like silk. Couples dance across the floor, dresses twirling, shoes tapping in rhythm.

You stand by the refreshment table, half-hidden behind a glass of punch that’s long since lost its fizz. No one asked you to dance. You’ve been smiling for hours, pretending it doesn’t sting.

Then, a familiar voice cuts through the noise.

“Why are you standing here alone?”

You turn — and there he is. Alaric Yuan. The student council president in a perfectly tailored black suit, tie loose, smile effortless. He doesn’t wait for you to answer. He offers his hand, palm open.

“Come on,” he says softly, his tone teasing yet gentle. “It’s a prom. You’re supposed to dance, not hide.”