The night after the competitions felt alive with an energy different from anything Goldridge Academy's UK branch had ever experienced. The Swedish campus had transformed into a labyrinth of whispers, secret glances, and confessions that stretched far beyond classrooms and training grounds.
Zion leaned back against the stone railing of the academy's courtyard balcony, the crisp Scandinavian air brushing over his skin. Below him, students from the UK, US, and Swedish branches mingled freely, laughter and conversation blending with the faint strum of a guitar someone had pulled out. But he wasn't paying attention to the crowd—his focus was on Mabelle, who stood just close enough to rest her head against his shoulder, their fingers woven together.
It was official now. No more playing coy, no more pretending to be "just friends." Earlier that afternoon, he had claimed her with the quiet confidence only Zion could carry. Their kiss had been the sort that rewrote entire chapters of their story—slow, certain, and undeniable. And though he wore his signature half-smile now, his eyes held a rare softness that only Mabelle could draw out.
Yet even with Mabelle at his side, Zion's sharp mind refused to rest. He'd noticed how the excursion was peeling back layers of the academy's structure—layers that revealed alliances, rivalries, and desires buried beneath years of formal prestige.
Mikey's Confession
Elsewhere in the courtyard, Mikey had finally given in to the weight pressing against his chest. He stood with Celeste, her pale hair catching the lantern light like silk, her eyes studying him with a curiosity he found both intimidating and irresistible.
"You've been avoiding me," Celeste said, voice calm, though the corners of her lips hinted at a teasing smile.
"I wasn't—well… maybe I was," Mikey admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "It's just… this whole trip, watching Zion and Mabelle, watching everyone else connect—it made me realize I've been wasting time."
Celeste tilted her head, brows raised. "Wasting time how?"
"Pretending I didn't like you," Mikey said simply. The words felt like diving headfirst into icy water, shocking and cleansing all at once. "But I do. And I don't want to waste another second."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, pierced only by the chatter of students around. Then Celeste stepped closer, closing the space, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was far from hesitant. It was deliberate, claiming him with the same certainty Zion had shown Mabelle earlier that day.
When they pulled apart, Celeste smirked. "Finally. I was starting to think you'd never catch on."
Mikey laughed—an unguarded, genuine sound. The world around them blurred. For once, he wasn't in Zion's shadow. He had his own story to write.
Secrets in the Shadows
But not all engagements were as innocent or straightforward. As the night grew deeper, Zion began to notice the patterns—the same faces disappearing together into unlit hallways, into garden alcoves, into study rooms with the doors locked behind them. The academy prided itself on discipline, but here in Sweden, the rules bent beneath the weight of youth and desire.
From the balcony, Zion watched:
A girl from the US branch whispering into the ear of one of the Swedish boys, before tugging him toward the dorms.
Two UK students sneaking away with their arms around each other, laughter muffled against each other's lips.
Even faculty chaperones looked the other way, pretending not to notice the rising tide of intimacy across branches.
Mabelle followed his gaze, biting back a laugh. "You're counting them, aren't you?"
"Always," Zion said, eyes sharp but amused. "Secrets like these always surface. And when they do, they'll break someone's reputation."
Mabelle's eyes glinted. "And you'll be there to see it happen."
Zion didn't respond immediately. He simply leaned in, kissing her temple. "Of course."
The Unspoken Rules
By midnight, the dorms were alive with whispers—confessions traded under blankets, kisses stolen behind closed doors, promises made in hushed tones.
The truth about cross-branch engagements became clear:
They were forbidden in official policy. The academy feared such ties would blur loyalties during inter-branch competitions.
They were everywhere anyway. Students didn't care about rules when attraction pulled them together.
They carried consequences. Rumors spread like wildfire. Betrayals were inevitable.
Mikey discovered this firsthand when Celeste, lying with her head against his chest in the quiet of the Swedish dorm lounge, whispered, "We'll have to keep this quiet. At least for now. If the faculty finds out…"
Mikey kissed the top of her head, his fingers threading through her hair. "Then let them. I'm done hiding how I feel."
She smiled softly. "Brave. Stupid, maybe, but brave."
Zion's Warning
Back in his room, Zion sent a message to the UK branch group chat:
"Cross-branch ties are like loaded dice. Play the game if you want, but remember: every secret has a price. And I always collect debts."
Mabelle, curled beside him on the edge of his bed, peeked at the screen and chuckled. "You're terrifying, you know that?"
"Terrifying," Zion repeated with a smirk, "but always right."
He kissed her again, slow and deliberate. For Zion, every move was part of a larger game, every bond—romantic or otherwise—another piece on the board. And tonight, as Goldridge Academy's branches tangled in webs of desire and secrecy, Zion knew the real competition had only just begun.