Fellon's pov:
When I finally emerged into the living room, the air felt different. It felt like the beginning of a movie.
Elsa was already there, standing by the window with a cup of black coffee in her hand. If I was the shadow and Amber was the sun, Elsa was the moon—cool, distant, and hauntingly beautiful.
She had opted for a look that screamed effortless authority. Sharp, tailored black trousers met a crisp white silk shirt, tucked perfectly to accentuate her 5'8" frame.
She wore her graduation gown open, draped over her shoulders like a cape.
Elsa never tried too hard; she didn't have to. Her blonde hair was gathered into a sleek, high ponytail that pulled back from her oval face, leaving her deep, ocean-blue eyes to do the talking. I noticed the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose—a soft detail on a woman who usually felt as hard as marble. She looked breathtaking, a sharp-edged designer ready to take on the world.
"You look… present," Elsa said, which was her highest form of a compliment. She scanned me from head to toe, her blue eyes gleaming with approval. "Amber's thievery at the mall paid off."
Before I could respond, the door to the hallway swung open, and our "Sunshine Princess" made her entrance.
Amber was a vibrant explosion of white and gold. Her outfit was a physical manifestation of her soul—a white ruffled dress that flared as she walked, paired with daring white pencil heels. She had woven her fiery blode hair, a little darker than Elsa hair were tied into loose French braids, allowing a few stray curls to frame her small, V-shaped face. Her green eyes were wide and sparkling with the kind of genuine joy that most people lost in childhood.
At 5'5", she was the shortest of our trio, but she possessed an energy that could light up the entire District of Columbia. She didn't just walk into a room; she claimed it.
"Oh, Fal!" Amber squealed, clapping her hands together. "I knew it! I told you that dress would be perfect. I saw you looking at that funeral shroud at the mall and I just couldn't let it happen. Not today."
I smoothed the dark fabric over my hips. At 5'7", I finally felt like I had the height to carry the weight of the silk. It didn't sweep the floor; it brushed against my ankles with a rhythmic shush that felt like a secret. The grey of my eyes, usually dull and tired, seemed to catch the silver undertones of the dress, making them look like polished flint. The black colour of my dress was in totally contrast with my red open hairs.
"You're a criminal, Amber," I said, though there was no heat in it. "But you have an excellent taste."
"I have an eye for potential," she countered, Amber finished my look by pulling a pair of black strapped block heels from her own collection.
"Put these on," she insisted with a grin. "Today, Fallon, we aren't just students. We're the main characters.".
"Look at us," Amber said, standing back up and linking her arms through mine and Elsa's. We stood before the full-length mirror near the door—a physicist, a designer, and an artist.
In that reflection, I didn't see three girls who had accidentally ended up in the same college dormitory apar but I saw a fortress. We filled the gaps in each other's lives that were open from a long time. Elsa gave us the steel we lacked; Amber gave us the light we had forgotten; and I… I was the one they were teaching how to live again.
"We're the most beautiful girls in this city," Amber declared with the confidence. "And I'm not just talking about the dresses. Look at your eyes, Elsa—you look like you're ready to conquer an empire. And Fallon, you look like a woman who finally survived the storm."
Elsa set her coffee cup down, her expression softening into a rare, genuine smile. " Let's go, give them a show."
As we grabbed our caps and stepped out the door, leaving the safety of our apartment behind, I felt the weight of my father's sacrifice settle differently on my shoulders.
It wasn't a burden today.
It was a foundation. I wasn't just surviving for him anymore; I was beginning to live for myself.
The hallway echoed with the click of our heels—three different rhythms, one single destination.
Tomorrow, the world would change, our lives would change. But today, under the Washington sun, we were invincible.
The entrance to the university was a chaotic sea of gowns and frantic parents. The rush was suffocating, a tide of bodies pushing from every direction. I was struggling to find my footing when a sudden shove from behind sent me stumbling forward.
Oh, no, I thought, my heart sinking. I didn't want to start my new life by face-planting into the concrete and ruining Amber's gift.
I braced for the impact, but it never came. Instead of cold pavement, I hit something solid and warm. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, steadying me with effortless strength. I gasped, opening my eyes to see the boy who had caught me.
He wasn't a boy; he was a man, likely to be in his late twenties, and he was devastatingly handsome. He had dark, piercing eyes that seemed to see right through me, framed by sun-kissed blonde hair. He was broad-shouldered and tall—easily 6'3". As I looked up at him, a strange, haunting sense of familiarity washed over me, as if we had met in another lifetime.
I realized I had been staring—and lingering in his arms—far too long.
I quickly scrambled back to my feet, my face flushing. "Thank y—"
I didn't even finish the sentence. Without a word, or even a second glance, he turned and walked away. I stood there, frozen, feeling a sharp sting of offense at his icy silence.
When I turned back to my friends, they weren't concerned—they were delighted. They were watching the scene like it was a romantic lead in a blockbuster.
"If your movie is over, we should probably go," I snapped, trying to hide my embarrassment as I marched toward the hall.
The crowd had thinned out, allowing us to move quickly toward our seats. But as we entered the grand auditorium, my heart did a strange flip when I saw him again. The man from the gate was a guest; he was sitting on the stage in a position of honor alongside the directors and professors.
My stomach dropped. He's a professor? I had spent five minutes staring into the eyes of a faculty member while draped across his arms like a Victorian heroine.
"Oh, I think he's a professor," Elsa whispered, a faint, wicked smirk tugging at her lips.
"And a very handsome one," Amber teased, nudging my shoulder. "Right, Fal?"
"So what?" I hissed, focusing on my seat number. "He's a professor. I have nothing to do with him. Let's just sit down."
I could feel Amber's broad smile even without looking at her. My face was still burning, the phantom sensation of his arms lingering on my skin.
"What an embarrassing start into my new life," I muttered to myself, sinking into my chair.