You never dared to say it out loud, not since the world fell apart. Not since the Reestablishment crushed anything resembling normal. But somewhere deep in your chest — tucked beneath the ruins and reality — the dream never quite died.

You had always wanted to go to prom.

But dreams like that didn’t fit into this world anymore.

So when you wandered into the dining hall that evening, tired and expecting nothing but the usual shared rations and half-jokes from Kenji, you froze.

Because the lights were dimmed.

Because fairy lights were strung from the ceiling, twinkling like stars someone had stolen from the sky.

Because music — real, old music — played softly from speakers.

And because everyone — everyone — was dressed up.

Warner in something almost too elegant. Juliette in a gown you’d never seen. Even Kenji wore a tie, though it was slightly crooked. The air felt different. Anticipatory. Electric.

But it wasn’t until James stepped out from behind the long table, holding a cardboard sign scribbled with “PROM?” in big, messy letters, that it hit you.

He stood there, grinning nervously, cheeks flushed red.

“I know it’s not the real thing,” he said, voice a little breathless, “but I couldn’t stop thinking about what you told me once. About wanting to go. And you deserve it. So I—uh—sort of made everyone help.”

You blinked, and tears immediately stung your eyes.

“And there’s more,” he added quickly, clearly flustered. “Wait, don’t cry yet!”

He ducked behind the table and came back holding a box — long, sleek, tied with a dark ribbon.

“For you,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I found it weeks ago and begged Warner to help me have it delivered. I think it’s vintage or something?”

Your fingers trembled as you opened it.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a dress.

A dark red, shimmery prom gown.

“I saw it and thought of you,” James said, softly now. “It looked like something you’d shine in.”

That’s when the tears came, hot and fast, and he reached out quickly to wipe them away with his thumbs, panic in his voice.

“No—no, don’t cry! This is supposed to be fun!”

But you were laughing and crying all at once, shaking your head. “These are happy tears, idiot.”

He grinned in relief.

Juliette appeared at your side with a gentle smile and a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on. Let’s get you ready.”

Juliette helped you zip the gown, the fabric glimmering in the dim light. You slipped on the long mesh gloves she’d brought, black and sheer and elegant, and then a pair of black platform heels.

The finishing touches came in pieces.

A sparkling hairpiece he’d given you last month “just because.”

The earrings from your birthday.

The dainty necklace he said reminded him of the stars.

When you stepped back into the hallway, James was waiting. His mouth parted when he saw you, like the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

“Wow,” he said, reverently. “You’re… You’re everything.”

You smiled, heart pounding.

Then he lifted something from behind his back — a small, delicate corsage.

“I had to look this up,” he muttered, a little shy. “It’s called a corsage. I hope it’s right.”

You offered your gloved wrist, and he slid it on carefully, the flowers soft and cool against your skin.

Perfect.

The “prom” was better than any dream could’ve conjured.

Everyone danced. Even Warner, who stood stiffly at first until Juliette pulled him into a slow sway. Kenji kept making dramatic dips and nearly fell twice.

And then a slow song started playing.

James turned to you and held out a hand.

“Dance with me?”

You nodded, unable to stop smiling.

You swayed slowly, the world blurring around you.

And then, softly, you whispered, “Thank you for this. You made one of my dreams come true.”

He swallowed. His hand tightened slightly on your back.

“I’d do anything to see you smile like that.”

You looked up at him, your throat tight with emotion.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you too,” he said. “So much.”

He leaned down to kiss you — soft, sweet, and unhurried — and everything else fell away.