The hidden flame

The academy is hosting a grand festival, a celebration that’s both a social and academic event. There are food stalls, games, competitions, and, of course, a grand dance. Lyra’s family has always been a fixture at these kinds of events, but Lyra typically avoids drawing attention. This year, however, her childhood friend is acting differently—he’s been more attentive to other girls, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Lyra. Lyra enters the festival with a small, intentional group of friends—perhaps some students she’s befriended at the academy. She’s dressed simply but elegantly, trying to blend in with the crowd, but the moment she steps into the main courtyard, she catches sight of her childhood friend talking to a group of girls. His laugh rings out, easy and casual, as one of the girls tugs at his arm, smiling up at him. Lyra’s Thoughts: She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t care. It’s not like they’re together anymore… and he can talk to whoever he wants. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. But even as she tries to dismiss it, she feels a tightness in her chest. She doesn’t want to show any weakness, so she focuses on her friends instead, forcing a smile. Lyra’s POV: She moves past the group, trying to act casual, but her gaze lingers on him for a split second too long. Her childhood friend looks up and sees her. Their eyes meet, but she quickly looks away, pretending not to care. Her hand tightens around the drink she’s holding. It’s fine. She’s fine. But then, as if it’s on purpose, he waves his hand in a lazy, friendly gesture to the girls, and one of them leans into him, laughing at something he said. Does she have to laugh like that? So loudly? A small laugh escapes her lips—bitter and sarcastic. Right. He’s just one of those guys now, huh? Her Childhood Friend’s POV: He spots Lyra across the courtyard, standing with a few students, her back stiff as she deliberately avoids looking his way. He’d noticed her walk in, and for a moment, he felt a small flicker of hope that maybe she’d finally talk to him. But instead, she does the same thing she’s been doing for weeks—acts like he doesn’t even exist. He smirks, but there’s something underneath the cocky expression, a flicker of irritation. He watches as Lyra moves past him, stiff and deliberately aloof, like a challenge. So she’s going to act like she doesn’t care? Fine. I’ll make sure she sees she’s not the only one who can play that game. One of the girls in his group glances at Lyra and then back at him, an obvious flirtation in her smile. He leans into it, allowing the girl to nudge his arm playfully. He watches as Lyra’s face tightens before she turns away, retreating into her group. Let’s see how long she can keep this up. Lyra’s POV: She forces herself to move away from the scene. She can’t keep staring at him. She can’t afford to care anymore, right? But even as she walks further into the festival, a pang of jealousy settles in her stomach. What’s it to me if he talks to other girls? He’s not mine anymore. But despite her attempts to ignore it, her eyes flicker back toward him one last time. He’s laughing, his hand resting casually on the shoulder of one of the girls. And it’s not that it’s a romantic gesture—it’s just that it looks too natural, too effortless, and it bothers her more than she can stand. Why is this bothering me so much? Her Childhood Friend’s POV (cont’d): He watches as Lyra walks off, a small, knowing smile forming. He wonders if she even realizes he’s doing this on purpose. He hopes she notices. Part of him is just trying to provoke her—see if she’ll finally break and show some real emotion. But another part of him feels… uneasy. He’s pushing her away in a way he didn’t expect. Maybe this isn’t a good idea. She looks… upset. But then again, she’s the one ignoring me. She could talk to me if she wanted. As the night goes on, Lyra tries to avoid him, but it’s nearly impossible. Everywhere she turns, she sees him laughing, talking, and just being… him. It eats away at her, even though she won’t admit it. She focuses on enjoying herself, but the moment she’s alone for a second, she wonders if maybe—just maybe—he’s doing this to get a reaction from her.