Keira never liked school functions. The fake smiles, glittery lights, and pretentious small talk made her skin itch.
So when the school announced the upcoming "Masquerade for Unity", a compulsory formal hosted by Class 12-B to improve "inter-grade bonding," she let out the loudest groan in the hallway.
"We're literally at war with our own secrets," she hissed to Maya, "and now they want us to waltz in masks and glitter."
Maya sighed. "It's either that or fail participation credits."
Meanwhile, Cyan, juggling apples in the background, chirped, "Don't worry, Queen Keira. I'll teach you how to fake a smile with style."
Keira scowled. "I don't fake anything."
He grinned. "Challenge accepted."
By Friday, the auditorium turned into a chaos factory.
Keira was on the decor committee—forced to work alongside Elijah (tense), Vera (secretive), and Cyan (ridiculously upbeat).
"This balloon arch looks like a defeated worm," Keira muttered.
Cyan dramatically gasped. "That defeated worm was my finest work!"
They bickered over lights. Argued over playlist choices. She accused him of glitter abuse.
But somewhere between the mess and mayhem, she smiled.
More than once.
Later that evening, Keira sat alone folding event pamphlets when she heard a voice behind her.
"Careful, you're starting to look... happy."
She turned.
Vera leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
Keira narrowed her eyes. "What do you want?"
"To warn you."
"About?"
Vera's gaze flicked toward the pamphlet. "Cyan."
Keira stiffened. "What about him?"
Vera stepped closer. "He's not just some transfer. He has history. With me. With X."
Keira's pulse quickened. "What do you mean?"
But Vera only smirked. "Keep your eyes open, Keira. The prettiest masks often hide the darkest lies."
That night, Keira couldn't sleep.
She tossed and turned, memories colliding with possibilities.
What if Cyan was another carefully planted player? A distraction designed to make her trust again—only to break her?
But then... what about his sincerity, his goofy jokes, his soft silences?
Was it all fake?
The night of the masquerade arrived.
The auditorium shimmered in silver and navy blue. Students wore elegant masks, satin and lace disguising teenage chaos.
Keira walked in, stunning in a black gown with silver embroidery. Her mask, a sharp-winged design, made her look ethereal—and untouchable.
Heads turned. Whispers followed.
Then came Cyan.
Wearing a simple dark suit, mask askew, and holding a single white lily.
Keira froze.
"You hate roses," he said.
She blinked. "You remembered?"
He smiled softly. "I remember everything you don't say."
They danced.
Not gracefully.
He stepped on her foot. Twice.
She almost punched him. Almost.
But laughter bubbled between them like champagne.
"You look…" Cyan began, searching.
"Don't you dare say 'pretty,'" Keira warned.
He chuckled. "Powerful."
She blinked. "That's a new one."
"You deserve new," he said.
And for a moment, the world paused.
But nothing stayed perfect for long.
During the award segment, Elijah appeared beside Keira, tense.
"There's something you need to see."
He pulled her to a side room and showed her a photo on his phone.
Cyan. At Vera's house.
Smiling. Comfortable.
Timestamped: Two days before his transfer.
Keira's heart dropped.
"What is this?"
Elijah looked away. "I don't know. But we need to confront him."
When they returned, Cyan was gone.
Keira's hands curled into fists.
Outside the auditorium, she found him by the fountain.
His mask dangled from his fingers.
"You were at Vera's," she said flatly.
He looked up. "Yeah."
"You lied to me."
"I didn't," he said softly. "I just didn't tell you everything."
She laughed bitterly. "That's called lying, Cyan."
He stepped closer. "I was part of something. Before all this. But I got out."
"Did you?" she whispered. "Or are you just another player sent to destroy me?"
Cyan flinched. "I'd never hurt you."
"That's what they all said."
Keira turned to leave.
He grabbed her wrist.
"I'm not perfect. I have a past. But I chose you."
She looked at him, tears threatening.
"I don't need someone to choose me," she whispered. "I need someone who never had to think twice."
She pulled away.
Back inside, the masquerade played on. Students laughed, danced, posted selfies.
Keira stood at the edge, alone in a crowd of glitter.
Then—suddenly—one of the projection screens flickered.
Static.
Then—
A confession tape.
Her voice.
Her real voice.
"I don't know who I am anymore. I just pretend. I fake being strong because the real me... is too broken to fix."
The room gasped.
She froze.
Another sabotage.
By X.
Again.
Elijah rushed toward her. Maya pulled her into a hug. Cyan hovered at the edge, guilt all over his face.
Vera watched from the shadows.
But Keira...
She didn't cry.
She didn't run.
She grabbed the mic.
Voice shaking but clear, she said:
"Yes. That was me. But that was me. And I'm done being afraid of the past."
The room went silent.
"I've been bullied, betrayed, humiliated. But guess what? I'm still standing."
Cheers broke out. Some clapped. Some stared in stunned silence.
But in that moment—
Keira reclaimed her power.