The sky over New York was painfully blue—too perfect, too clean, like it hadn't gotten the memo that today was a war in a cap and gown.
Simon stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his robe.
Underneath it: a wireless mic taped to his chest. Hidden. Hot. Live.
Beside him, Elena laced her fingers through his.
"Last chance to bail," she whispered.
Simon looked at her—black curls pinned up, a hint of gloss on her lips, a smirk that didn't reach her eyes.
"Not a chance," he said.
Graduation was being held at Lincoln High's outdoor stadium, decorated with gold and navy streamers and rows upon rows of folding chairs. A stage in the center. Cameras set at all angles for the livestream.
Parents shuffled into the bleachers.
Teachers looked polished, tired.
And the school board?
They stood at the edge of the platform like hawks—eyes scanning the crowd, jaws clenched behind fake smiles.
One of them pointed at Simon.
Then turned and whispered to the vice principal.
Simon saw it.
So did Elena.
"They know," she muttered.
"They've always known," he replied. "Today, they just can't stop it."
1:02 PM – Ceremony Start
The national anthem played.
The valedictorian read a speech about dreams and future paths and hard work.
The principal gave a flat, emotionless thanks to the families.
Then came the moment Simon had waited for.
The final speaker stepped up to the podium.
> "Before we begin the diploma procession, we'd like to share a few words from our senior technical lead who helped produce today's broadcast…"
Simon stood.
Every head turned.
Elena moved into position behind the curtain—ready to kill the official mic feed and switch to Simon's real mic.
But just as Simon stepped onto the stage—
A hand grabbed his arm.
"Simon," a voice hissed.
He turned.
It was Jules—his classmate.
The one who'd posted the TikTok that went viral.
The one who filmed their first interview.
Jules looked terrified.
"You've got five seconds," Jules whispered. "They know. They put someone on you. A teacher. You're being watched."
Simon's stomach flipped. "Who?"
"Mr. Harlan," Jules said. "Security detail. He's not just here for crowd control—he's got orders to shut you down."
Simon's fists clenched. "Then I better move fast."
Jules stepped back. "Good luck."
1:11 PM – The Interruption
Simon reached the mic.
Cleared his throat.
Smiled at the cameras.
> "Hi. Sorry to interrupt your regularly scheduled programming. I promise this won't take long."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The principal leaned forward. The board members started rising from their chairs.
Elena killed the soundboard.
Simon's wireless mic cut through, broadcasting crystal clear to the livestream.
> "My name is Simon Donovan.
I've spent four years in this school being quiet.
Trying to blend. Trying to behave.
Trying to follow rules that were written for lives that aren't mine."
Elena emerged behind him now, walking slowly onto the stage.
> "I've been called a lot of things," Simon continued. "Liar. Freak. Forbidden.
But what I am—is in love."
The crowd was stone.
Some jaws dropped.
A few students cheered.
One board member shouted, "Cut the feed!"
Another barked, "Take them off stage!"
But no one moved.
Because now Elena was speaking.
> "We were raised under the same roof, but not by blood.
We didn't grow up planning this.
We didn't fall into each other to rebel.
We just... found each other.
In silence. In pain. In love."
Simon turned to face her.
Together, they said:
> "We are not ashamed.
We are not a scandal.
We are love."
And then Elena added, eyes burning:
> "If that scares you, that's a you problem."
Security moved.
Mr. Harlan stepped onto the stage, walking fast.
But before he could touch Simon, the crowd erupted.
Students leapt to their feet.
Clapping. Shouting. Cheering.
Even some parents rose, unsure what was happening but moved by the raw courage of what they'd just witnessed.
Security hesitated.
Simon raised one hand in a mock salute.
Then whispered to Elena, "Let's go."
And just like that—they left the stage.
Not dragged.
Not silenced.
But victorious.
Outside, Jules was waiting with a phone.
"You guys just broke graduation."
Simon grinned. "That was the plan."
The video hit the internet within minutes.
#BurningLinesLive started trending before sunset.
And in bedrooms and dorms and lunchrooms across the country, teens watched.
They listened.
And they saw something they'd never seen before:
Two people telling the truth.
Out loud.
On stage.
Unapologetically.