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The Winter Gala wasn’t just another event.
It was the night.
The school auditorium no longer looked like the place where they held morning announcements and mandatory assemblies. Draped in navy velvet, lit by warm golden lights, and filled with a crowd dressed in their best, it had transformed into something almost sacred. Judges from nearby academies, parents with programs in hand, faculty members—all filled the rows in near silence, waiting.
Naomi stood backstage, heart pounding against her ribs like a metronome gone wild. Her floor-length black gown shimmered faintly under the hallway lights, the sequins on the sleeves catching just enough light to remind her she wasn’t hiding anymore.
She wasn’t background.
Not tonight.
She inhaled slowly and exhaled twice as long. A calming ritual she had practiced for weeks.
“You okay?” a student tech crew member asked, peeking out from behind a speaker.
Naomi smiled faintly. “Just a few nerves. I’ll be fine.”
“Good. You’re the closer. That’s kind of a big deal.”
Naomi laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah. I know.”
In the warm-up room, she ran her fingers lightly across the keys of the upright piano. It wasn’t as tuned as the one onstage, but it grounded her.
A few scattered notes.
A quiet hum of the melody.
Then came the sound she knew too well—heels clicking against the tile.
Maya.
She leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, dressed in deep burgundy satin. Regal. Composed.
“Nice dress,” she said casually.
Naomi didn’t turn from the keys. “Thanks.”
Maya stepped closer, flipping through a folded program. “I saw they listed me as alternate. Guess you really sold that solo.”
Naomi turned slightly, meeting her gaze. “I didn’t sell anything. I sang what was real. That’s the difference.”
For a second, something flickered in Maya’s eyes. A mixture of irritation and… something softer. Maybe understanding.
But it vanished.
“Well,” Maya said, shrugging, “good luck out there. Just remember—closing means they’ll expect something unforgettable.”
Naomi looked her dead in the eye. “Then I hope they’re ready.”
Moments later, her name was called.
“Naomi Ward. Final act.”
She rose.
Back straight. Feet steady.
As she walked toward the side of the stage, her eyes scanned the audience briefly.
Levi was there. Third row.
He wasn’t smiling. He didn’t wave.
But when their eyes met—he nodded.
Just once.
It was all she needed.
The spotlight warmed her skin as she stepped into view. The crowd hushed. Not a cough. Not a whisper.
She took her seat at the grand piano, adjusted the mic, and placed her fingers on the keys.
The silence stretched—not awkward, but expectant. Charged.
Then—she began.
The first few chords rang soft and slow, like rain beginning to fall. Her voice followed, steady, low. The lyrics had changed slightly from the last version. Smoothed. Sharpened. Stronger.
I waited in silence9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI6eyZBawQP
Between verses and breaks9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ1Zv79MLjj
But I’m done being background9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0FvbXF1LeO
To songs someone else makes.
I found my own rhythm9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrmKiqHbEzB
Where your echoes don’t reach9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbHFjKOaHOg
And I’m not here to follow—9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIpaDMT0kuL
I’m here to be seen.
Her voice swelled on the last line, but she didn’t push. She let the rawness show. She let herself feel.
A few audience members leaned forward in their seats.
In the second verse, she built higher.
Not a harmony, not a shadow,9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo7XtUqT8Lu
Not a name on your sleeve—9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt4rApTIOka
Just a girl with a melody,9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEnmoYMcHas
And the will to believe.
Her voice cracked, gently, on “believe.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBdeGIZxOy9
But she didn’t cover it.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWC0KenhLNI
She embraced it.
Because honesty wasn’t always perfect.
The final chord faded into the room, and for a long, breathless moment—
No one moved.
Then, applause erupted.
Not the kind that built slowly. Not polite.
It came all at once.
Loud. Clear. Sincere.
Naomi stood slowly, gave a quiet bow, and walked offstage as the curtain drew behind her.
Backstage, Ms. Arinze met her with glassy eyes.
“You didn’t just perform,” she whispered. “You transformed.”
Naomi let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Thank you.”
“No,” the teacher said. “Thank you.”
The night air outside was cool and still.
Naomi slipped her hands into the sides of her coat and looked up at the sky—clear, no clouds. Just stars.
Levi stood a few feet away, waiting quietly near the stone railing of the walkway.
He held something in his hands.
Her notebook.
The one she had returned to him after rehearsals.
He approached.
“I wrote more,” he said softly. “I didn’t know if you’d want to read it now… or ever.”
Naomi looked at the notebook, then at him.
“Maybe one day,” she said. “But tonight wasn’t about that.”
He nodded. No pressure. No push.
“I’m proud of you,” he said. “You didn’t just write a song. You told a story. You owned it.”
Naomi smiled.
“Some stories don’t need a duet,” she said gently.
His smile was sad, but sincere. “I know.”
A beat of silence passed between them—not heavy this time. Just peaceful.
“Goodnight, Naomi,” he said, stepping back.
“Goodnight, Levi.”
Naomi walked toward the parking lot, the click of her heels echoing off the sidewalk. She didn’t look back.
And in her mind, her melody played on.
Clear. Certain. Her own.
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9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0TxnAlpFbv
Naomi claimed the stage and her story. With Maya lingering and Levi walking away, is this a final ending—or the start of something even bigger?
Share your thoughts, predictions, or your favourite moment from this chapter in the comments! 🌟🎤💭
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