Zane
Well. Today’s the big day.
Homecoming: the first official dance of the school season. A celebration of school spirit, hormonal chaos, and spending an entire week pretending you don’t care about any of it.
Except, of course, you do. Everyone does.
Even me. Which is unfortunate, really.
Because these things? They’re basically peacock conventions for people with too much money and too many opinions about sequin placement.
The ballroom was ridiculous. Absolutely, unapologetically ridiculous. Marble floors polished so hard you could ice skate on them. Velvet drapes thicker than the school budget. Crystal chandeliers so big they probably had names and social security numbers. A live quartet tucked into the corner played something dramatic enough to make your teeth itch.
Callum, our
