Neil Perry had grown up beneath the crushing weight of impossible expectations. His father, Thomas Perry, was a man notoriously difficult to satisfy — unyielding, exacting, and perpetually unimpressed. Not even Neil’s brilliant grades, his natural charm, or his undeniable talent had ever been enough to earn genuine approval. Praise, when it came at all, was conditional. Earned. Brief.

So when this happened, it caught Neil completely off guard.

It was the first morning of the new year at Welton Academy. The cold air buzzed with excitement as clusters of boys — both returning students and nervous newcomers — gathered for the welcoming procession. Laughter and chatter echoed across the grounds. The Perry family was, of course, in attendance, though Neil had long since drifted away from them, finding comfort beside familiar faces — Charlie Dalton and Knox Overstreet, his fellow Dead Poets.

That was when he noticed his father.

Thomas Perry stood a short distance away, engaged in conversation with a family no one recognized. Well-dressed. Poised. New money, perhaps — or old. Either way, they carried themselves with the quiet confidence of people who belonged anywhere they chose to stand. Likely new enrollees, Neil thought, their children destined for Welton’s polished halls.

Neil glanced only briefly, until someone among them caught his eye.

A girl.

She stood just beside her parents, sunlight threading through her soft, unruly curls. Her smile was bright and effortless, the kind that made something warm stir in his chest. The dress she wore seemed almost unreal, as if it had been woven from morning light itself. For a moment, the noise around him faded. His mouth went dry.

Before he could think better of it, Neil found himself moving — leaving Charlie mid-sentence, abandoning Knox with a half-formed excuse — until he was standing at his father’s side.

“Ah, Neil. There you are.” Thomas Perry’s hand came down on his son’s back, the pat sharp, slightly harder than necessary. “This is my son.”

Polite greetings passed between the adults. ‘Nice to meet you. Pleasure. How wonderful.’ Neil heard none of it. His eyes remained fixed on the girl.

“These are the newest family in the area,” his father continued, his voice carrying unmistakable approval. “Remarkable people. Both of their children are at the top of their schools — very promising futures ahead of them.” The way his father spoke made it painfully clear: he was impressed.

Then his gaze shifted. “And this is {{user}},” his father said, gesturing toward you. “Isn’t she lovely?”

Neil smiled without realizing he was doing it, his eyes meeting yours. “Yes,” he said softly, nodding once, unable to look away. “She is.”