Elara was still sleeping when she heard a faint knock on her door. It’s still so early. Who could that be? Her gaze moved to the side of her bed. Ziva was still there, her chest rising and falling with each breath.
Elara stood up and went to get the door. A guy stood at the door, not smiling. He said that all grade three singers were requested to co to the training room by the right wing imdiately. Then he walked away.
Before leaving her room, Elara had paused by the bed. Ziva was still asleep. She lay sprawled under the blanket, hair ssy. Elara watched her for a mont, then turned away and left quietly, pulling the door shut behind her.
When she got to the hall. It was almost filled up. Grade three singers stood or sat in small groups, whispering and stretching. So also just entered, like her. No one really knew why they had been called so early. But everyone felt it was important.
At the front, the dean stood behind the podium. Beside her was a middle aged man with a calm posture. He has long hair which was tied loosely at the back. His eyes moved slowly across the room, as if he was already asuring things.
The dean tapped the microphone. Then she opened her mouth. "Okay everyone, settle down." she said while everyone obeyed. Then she continued. "Voice is changing a few things this year. You’ve probably noticed how fast everything moves in Aurelia’s entertainnt world now. It’s too fast. Shows, auditions, debuts – everything happens quicker than before. Waiting is not helping anyone anymore." she paused, looking round the room.
"So we decided we can’t keep doing the sa old way. Talent needs to be polished early. Not delayed. You shouldn’t have to wait until grade four to start learning the real professional stuff. So song choice, stage presence, how to talk to producers, how to stand out... that should start now. Right here in grade three."
A murmur went through the crowd imdiately.
"Really?"
"Oh my... Can’t believe this is happening"
"Soone please, wake up. I’m probably dreaming"
Nevertheless, the dean continued. "That’s why Mr. Kain is joining us. He’s going to help you jump ahead. He will provide private sessions, extra feedback, connections and the likes. We want our grade three singers ready sooner. No more waiting. You can rise faster if you work with him."
A ripple of excitent went through the crowd.
"So from today, grade three will no longer have to wait until grade four for this level of training. It starts now. Show Mr. Kain what you can do. Let’s begin warm-ups!" the dean said finally.
Everyone stands imdiately, excited murmurs spread again.
"This is crazy good,"
"I’m signing up first,"
Mr. Kain then stepped forward. His voice was smooth and confident. He spoke about singers he had trained before. People who had made it. People with real careers. He said he was not there to pressure anyone. Only to guide those who wanted more.
"I’ll get going, take care", The dean said, then she left the hall.
Mr. Kain stepped down from the podium and began walking between the rows. Students straightened and flashed him sweet smiles when he passed. He stopped beside a guy near the front. "Sing any line," he said.
The guy hesitated at first, then he sang a short phrase. His voice shook as he did so. Mr. Kain placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Relax," he said. "You’re holding back." Then he moved on.
Elara barely noticed all what was happening in the hall. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Adrian’s voice from the night before was still playing repeatedly in her mind. What if he didn’t change his mind? What if the car really ca? She was so lost in thought that didn’t hear footsteps stop in front of her. Only when she heard a light cough did she finally look up. The new man, Mr. Kain or what was he called, was standing there. Elara nodded politely in greeting. He didn’t speak at imdiately. He just looked at her. She t his gaze without blinking.
"Sing a stanza," he said.
Elara chose a random song. Just from a famous singer. Mr. Kain nodded once in satisfaction after Elara had finished singing . "Good," he said and then moved on. When he finally dismissed everyone, he added casually that he would also be doing private sessions. Anyone interested could co to his office for proper guidance.
Everyone nodded. Murmurs followed him as he walked away.
When Elara returned to her room. The bed was already empty. Ziva was nowhere to be found. Maybe she had went ho.
Elara walked to her bed and sat at the edge sighing deeply. She felt pressured.
Then she heard running water from the bathroom. Her heart jerked at first, she is the only one staying in this room. So, soone using her bathroom felt strange to her. It should be Ziva. She didn’t went ho afterall.
Elara’s eyes shifted to the side. Only then did she notice so clothes laid out carelessly nearby. Before she could think further, the bathroom door opened and Ziva stepped out, wrapped in a towel.
Ziva froze when their eyes t. Then she suddenly turned and rushed straight back into the bathroom, shutting the door loudly behind her.
Elara sat there, stunned. Why did she run like that? As if Elara were so kind of wolf. Elara sighed and stood up slowly.
"I’m going out," she said quietly, toward the bathroom door. Ziva didn’t answer. Then Elara left the room, sighing again and again...
–
Adrian sat behind his desk, twirling a fountain pen between long fingers. The motion was slow, almost lazy, the kind of thing that looked elegant if you didn’t know he was using it to keep his brain from wandering off again.
Harris stood in front of him, back straight as a plank. Sweat had already started its slow, humiliating journey down his spine, the kind that itches but you can’t scratch because you’re supposed to look professional.
He had been standing here for what felt like centuries. No that was dramatic. Years. Also dramatic. But whatever, it was long enough that his legs had begun quietly filing complaints. He was not a statue. Not a scarecrow. And definitely not a decorative pillar placed here for decoration.
Adrian’s eyes were locked on the files in front of him calmly. Except right now his mind was the very opposite. Last night kept replaying stubbornly in his head.
Her mouth. The way she tasted faintly of wine. Her breath catching when his hand slid from her jaw to the side of her neck, thumb brushing the pulse that jumped under his touch. That small, involuntary sound she’d made when he pressed closer. Her fingers locking into his hair.
She hadn’t pushed him away. She’d let him deepen the kiss, let his tongue slide against hers. Her hips had shifted once. Enough to press against him. Enough to make his control slip for half a second.
He’d pulled back anyway. Because if he hadn’t, he would have taken her right there, her legs wrapped around him, and then what? Regret in the morning? Or worse, wanting more?
After all, she had co close first. Adrian convinced himself that though she had been distant and retractive. She had only been trying to draw his attention. And he would make sure she regretted it.
Adrian couldn’t believe it. Sitting here replaying shit. He, who treated feelings like annoying paperwork to be filed away and ignored, was now stuck thinking about a girl he barely knew. A cold snort escaped from him.
Harris nearly jumped out of his shoes. He stared at Adrian like the man had suddenly grown a second head.
He cleared his throat.
"E-em... sir. I’m... still here."
He was t with silence.
When Harris was considering whether he should just lie down on the carpet and accept death. Adrian finally lifted his eyes.
"Prepare the car," he said, voice flat as a gravestone. "You’ll pick her up tonight."
Harris snapped to attention imdiately.
Ah. Of course. Her. Relanie. The perfect fiancée. Graceful. Elegant. The one who smiled like she’d practiced it in front of a mirror for years. Perfect temper that could cut glass but still. Perfect.
Harris bowed, almost clipping his chin on his own toes.
"Yes, sir. Right away. The Vale mansion, or your residence?"
"Mine." Adrian answered simply.
Harris turned to leave, already ntally preparing himself for the eting with the silent bullet.
Then Adrian spoke again.
"Not her."
Harris froze mid-step, one foot still in the air like a flamingo who’d just been told the lake was closed. He turned slowly.
Not... her?
What fresh hell was this?
Did Adrian have another fiancée he’d forgotten to ntion? A secret twin? Or a clone?
"I an her," Adrian said, still calm, still looking at the files like they were more interesting than this entire conversation.
Harris’s face squeezed in confusion.
Which her? There are millions of hers in the world. This was not helpful information.
Before he could form a question, Adrian continued.
"Miss Veyne."
Harris’s brain did a full system reboot.
Miss... Veyne?
The sponsored lady from Lorien who looked at everyone like she was deciding whether they were worth the calories it took to speak to them?
Harris opened his mouth, closed it. Then opened it again. Nothing ca out.
Adrian finally glanced up properly this ti. Grey eyes cold and unreadable.
"Send the car to the academy entrance. 8:30."
Harris swallowed hard. "Yes... sir."
He bowed again, this ti, awkwardly. Then he turned and speed-walked out of the office before his legs could fully betray him.
The door clicked shut. Adrian leaned back in his chair. He stared at the closed door for a long mont.
He wondered if she would co.
He wondered how long it would take before that calm mask of hers cracked again.
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