Chapter 33 – STEAL LUCK (1)
A week later—
Violet was finally back at Imperial High.
Back in her dorm room.
Back in the familiar halls.
Back where she belonged.
Migan City College had already issued a formal apology and promised her a proper award ceremony—one that would be held at Imperial High itself, scheduled for the next day.
Everything felt… settled, Too settled.
Especially considering one thing.
Julia had done nothing.
Not a single move, Not a single stir.
And that alone made Violet uneasy.
Inside her mind, Vira frowned.
Host… this isn't like your sister at all.
She's been quiet for days. Even I'm starting to get suspicious.
"I know," Violet replied softly as she arranged her books. "But maybe she finally gave up."
Vira scoffed.
Tch. Host, you know that's impossible. Your sister having a change of heart is like me suddenly being Mount Everest. Completely absurd.
"…You're right," Violet admitted. "But as long as she doesn't do anything, we're safe."
Vira hummed thoughtfully, then suddenly changed the topic.
Oh—by the way, host. I wanted to ask you something.
"What is it?"
Why did you give Melissa that pink heart perfume as a thank-you gift?
Violet paused.
"I don't know," she said honestly. "I just… had a hunch."
.
.
.
.
.
Three days earlier—
The day Violet returned to the dorm.
Melissa was already there.
Sitting on her bed, On her side of the room.
Pink pillows. Pink blanket. Pink everything.
When Violet stepped inside, the air immediately turned awkward.
"…Hi," Violet said, breaking the silence.
"…Hi," Melissa replied quietly.
That was it.
Nothing else followed.
Violet turned away, pretending to focus on her wardrobe, deciding not to force a conversation.
Then—
A soft voice spoke behind her.
"Sorry."
Violet froze.
"…Huh?" she asked, unsure she'd heard correctly.
She turned around.
Melissa had stood up and walked closer, her hands clenched nervously.
"I said I'm sorry," Melissa said again, clearer this time. "For being a brat. For bullying you. For antagonizing you. For giving Julia your clothes."
She took a breath.
"You don't have to forgive me. Just… know that I'm sorry."
Inside Violet's head—Vira who was surprised,couldn't stop from saying
"HOST, why is Pink Barbie apologizing. Did the sun rise from the west today"?
Violet blinked, stunned, surprised.
"It's… um," she hesitated. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."
She honestly didn't know what else to say.
Melissa nodded, then added casually—
"You can have Andrea. I don't want him anymore."
Violet nearly choked on air.
"What—WHO... WHO wants Andrea?!", she stuttered , Her face turning red instantly.
Inside her mind, Vira cackled.
"Tch. Keep lying to yourself, host".
"Anyway," Melissa said, already walking back to her bed, "that's all I wanted to say."
Vira clicked her tongue.
"Even Pink Barbie knows you're lying about your feelings. You and that Andrea boy are painfully predictable".
"Shut up," Violet muttered.
Fine, fine. I'll stop.
A while later, Violet found herself staring at Melissa's back.
She felt… warm.
And oddly guilty.
Melissa had gathered the courage to apologize, She had even told the truth when it mattered.
And Violet hadn't even said thank you.
With a small sigh, Violet reached into her bag and took out a familiar bottle—
The pink heart perfume.
(The same one she'd originally giving Victoria when are parents where hypnotized.)
"It's pink, Melissa likes pink, and besides it might be of help later since Melissa is friends with Julia". Violet thought to herself
She walked over and held it out.
"Here. This is for you."
Melissa turned around, startled.
"…Why?"
"As a thank-you," Violet replied. "The recording you provided really helped. So… here."
Melissa stared at the perfume, eyes wide. "Are you really giving this to me?"
"If you ask one more question," Violet warned calmly, "I'll change my mind."
Melissa immediately snatched it. "It's mine now. No take-backs."
"Tch. Who wants to take it back," Violet scoffed as she returned to her wardrobe.
From behind her, Melissa's voice followed—
"So… friends?"
Violet paused, then glanced back slightly.
"Nope. Not yet. Depends on how you behave though."
Melissa huffed. "Tch. Who wants to be friends with you anyway."
Violet smiled without realizing it.
And that was how it happened.
.
.
.
.
.
Now—
Vira was curious.
Host… you still haven't answered me properly.
Why that perfume?
Violet didn't respond , Because even she wasn't sure.
The quiet didn't last.
Suddenly, Violet's phone rang— the sharp sound slicing cleanly through her thoughts.
She stared at the screen.
Andrea.
Her heart jumped before she could stop it.
She didn't move, Five seconds passed, Ten.
Inside her mind, Vira clicked her tongue.
You're acting pathetic, host. Pick up the call already.
"I'm not," Violet muttered, still staring at the screen. "I'm just… not rushing."
The phone buzzed again, seconds from cutting off.
She panicked and answered.
"H—hello," Violet said, her voice softer than she intended, fingers clutching the hem of her top as if that could steady her heartbeat.
A familiar, amused breath came through the line.
"Hello, wife," Andrea said lazily. "Do you miss me?"
Her face heated instantly.
"If you call me just to ask that again," Violet snapped, forcing steel into her tone, "I won't answer your calls anymore."
A low laugh sounded from the other end.
"Fine, fine," he said, surrendering easily. "Sorry, wifey."
She hated how easily that word unraveled her.
"I'm downstairs," Andrea continued. "Come down."
Violet frowned. "Why should I?"
"If you don't," he replied smoothly, "I'll come up."
Her eyes widened.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
She bit her lip, conflicted for exactly two seconds.
"Fine," she said quickly. "I'm coming. Just—don't cause trouble."
She justified it immediately.
It's just to keep the girls' dorm peaceful, he is a boy, It's wrong for him to keep entering the girls dorm, she's a girls-keeper.she told herself as she grabbed her cardigan.
That's all.
Vira scoffed loudly in her head.
The moment Violet stepped outside—
Andrea didn't say a word.
He simply reached out, took her hand firmly into his, and ran.
"Hey—wait—!" Violet gasped, nearly stumbling as she was pulled along. "Where are we going? What are you doing?!"
No answer.
Just the sound of hurried footsteps and her heart pounding wildly in her chest.
"Andrea!" she protested, half-laughing, half-breathless.
Still nothing.
They ran past the lit paths, past familiar buildings, until the school quieted and the air grew cooler.
Finally, they stopped at the back of Imperial High, where the trees opened into a wide, empty stretch of sky.
Andrea turned to her, eyes bright.
"I have a surprise for you," he said.
Before she could respond, he stepped behind her.
"Close your eyes."
"I—"
Too late.
His hand gently covered her eyes, warm and steady.
Violet froze.
He guided her forward carefully, his other hand resting at her waist—not pushing, just there.
They turned a corner.
Then— He leaned in, breath brushing her ear, his voice low and intimate.
"Congratulations, wife," Andrea whispered. "For being cleared."
He stepped back.
His hand lifted.
Violet's eyes opened—
And the sky exploded.
Fireworks bloomed overhead, brilliant and endless, lighting the dark sky with golds, violets, and silvers.
Each burst spelled the same thing: CONGRATULATIONS.
Violet's breath caught.
Her mind went completely blank.
She didn't move, Didn't speak.
Didn't even realize she was still holding Andrea's hand.
The fireworks reflected in her eyes as another burst lit the sky, brighter than the last.
Andrea leaned closer, wrapping his arms around her, his voice soft now.
"You endured it," he said. "You stayed standing. You didn't break."
She swallowed.
"This," he added quietly, "is for you."
"Thank you for being strong, wife".
.
.
.
If anyone asked Violet why she didn't pull away when Andrea wrapped his arms around her from behind—
She would say it was because she was too shocked.
Too distracted by the fireworks.
Too overwhelmed by the moment.
But Vira, watching smugly from inside her mind, would tell you the truth.
Bullshit.
She didn't struggle because she didn't want to leave.
And for once—
Violet didn't argue.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The next evening arrived quietly.
Yet for Imperial High, it was anything but quiet.
The campus glowed.
Lights lined the pathways leading to the Great Hall, banners hung neatly from pillars, and students moved everywhere —some whispering excitedly, others walking with purpose, ushering guests toward their seats.
It was finally the day of the award ceremony.
The ceremony that had been delayed.
The ceremony that came after rumors, accusations, silence—and truth.
The MC from Migan City College had already arrived early, standing near the entrance with a practiced smile, welcoming guests one by one. Parents, teachers, representatives, and students filled the hall until every seat was occupied.
A low hum of conversation lingered in the air.
Anticipation.
Violet Emery and Jeff sat among the students of Imperial High.
Violet hands rested neatly on her lap. She wore a simple dress—nothing extravagant—but she looked composed.
Calm.
Inside her mind, Vira crossed her arms.
Host… you really went through all that chaos, and now you're just sitting there like this is a normal school event?
Violet smiled faintly.
Because for the first time, it feels peaceful.
.
.
.
.
.
The lights dimmed, The chatter softened, And the ceremony began.
The Speeches
The MC stepped forward first, welcoming everyone and briefly recounting the purpose of the event—not just to award excellence, but to acknowledge truth, integrity, and perseverance.
Then Principal Rowan of Migan City College took the stage.
His voice was steady.
"This competition," he said, "was meant to celebrate brilliance. But it also tested something far more important—our commitment to fairness."
He paused.
"We failed once. And today, we stand here to correct that failure."
The hall was silent, then applause soon followed.
Next, Imperial High's principal , principal Aiden stepped forward.
"Our student endured accusations that would have broken many," he said. "Yet we stood firm. Not because we were loud—but because we are honest."
"Thank you kids for being strong".
A ripple of quiet agreement passed through the audience as applause followed.
Then Miss Irena was invited up.
When she took the podium, her gaze immediately found Violet, Emery and Jeff.
"I am proud," she said gently, " that these kids are my students. Not only because of academic excellence—but because true strength lies in not losing yourself , not abandoning each other when the world misunderstands you."
"Thank you for representing imperial high. Thank you for being my students."
While applause filled the hall, Violet lowered her eyes.
Her chest tightened.
Finally, the MC smiled and announced: "Please welcome the recipient of this year's special recognition award—
Violet De'ora of Imperial High."
Applause filled the hall.
Not explosive.
Not exaggerated.
But sincere.
Violet stood.
Every step toward the stage felt surreal, like walking through a memory she never expected to revisit.
When the award was placed in her hands, it felt warm.
Real.
The MC gestured toward the podium.
"And now, a few words from Violet herself."
Violet's Speech
She stood still for a moment.
Then she spoke.
"I… didn't think I would ever stand here again."
Her voice was soft, but it carried.
"When everything happened, I thought the hardest part was being accused.". She paused. "But it wasn't."
The hall remained silent.
"The hardest part was feeling alone. Feeling like no matter what I said, the truth wouldn't matter."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the podium. "But I was wrong."
She lifted her head.
"Because there were people who chose to listen. People who chose to believe—not because it was easy, but because it was right."
Her eyes swept the room.
"To both principals—thank you for correcting a mistake instead of hiding it."
"To Miss Irena—thank you for standing beside me when it would've been safer to step back."
"To my friends—thank you for reminding me who I was when I started doubting myself."
A brief pause.
"And to my family… thank you for loving me loudly, even when I tried to be strong quietly."
Her voice wavered—but only for a second.
"This award doesn't just belong to me," Violet continued. "It belongs to everyone who believes that truth will always surface—no matter how long it takes."
She bowed slightly.
"Thank you."
The applause this time was louder.
Longer.
Violet stepped back from the podium, her heart racing—not from fear, but from relief.
Inside her mind, Vira smiled.
Host… you did well. CONGRATULATIONS.
Violet exhaled slowly.
Thank you vira, for everything.
You're welcome Host. Replied Vira
And as the lights bathed the stage in warmth, Violet understood something clearly—
The storm had passed.
But her story was only just beginning.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The ceremony ended.
Applause lingered in the great hall, echoing softly against the tall walls before fading away. Conversations rose in its place—light, relieved, almost carefree.
Tables were opened. Food was served. Students drifted in loose clusters, laughing, celebrating, finally breathing again after weeks of tension.
Imperial High felt… normal.
Peaceful even.
Above the hall, the balcony lights glowed faintly, shadows stretching along the railings. No one paid them any attention.
Why would they?
Then—
A sound reached the floor.
Not loud.
Not sharp.
Just a dull impact.
Heavy.
Final.
For a brief moment, no one understood what they had heard.
Music continued.
Laughter carried on.
Then someone near the center of the hall screamed, everywhere went silent.
A cup slipped from their hand and shattered on the floor.
Another student slowly turned.
Someone else took a step back.
Eyes lifted.
And time seemed to stall.
A girl lay at the center of the hall.
She wasn't moving.
Her body was twisted wrong—too still, too quiet. Blood pooled beneath her head, spreading outward in a slow, dark stain across the polished marble.
No one screamed.
No one spoke.
The hall emptied of sound as if the air itself had been drained away.
A few students covered their mouths.
Someone's knees gave out.
A teacher took a single step forward—then stopped.
Because the girl breathe was shallow.
Her eyes were half-open, unfocused, reflecting the ceiling lights above her. Blood tangled in her hair, staining her uniform, soaking into the floor like it belonged there.
A whisper broke the silence.
"MELISSA."
The name passed through the hall, barely louder than breath.
Melissa Spears, Now lying still.
Above them, the balcony stood untouched.
No signs of struggle.
No sound.
Just the railing.
Watching.
And in that unbearable quiet—before sirens, before orders, before panic returned—
One truth settled heavily into everyone's chest.
This wasn't an accident.