Chapter 8: The Closing Curtain

As the afternoon melted into evening, the energy of the fundraiser began to wind down. The once bustling crowds that filled the garden had started to thin out, with visitors slowly making their way toward the exit. The warm glow of the setting sun bathed the academy's grounds in soft orange hues, casting long shadows over the booths and pathways.

Dorian stood near one of the food stalls, his eyes scanning the remaining booths as the volunteers worked to clean up. The event had gone smoothly—better than he had expected, in fact. There had been no major issues, and the guests had seemed pleased. Still, his mind wandered, replaying the events of the day, particularly the scene with Rhys earlier. The way he had stood up to the Alphas, the way he had fought without hesitation... it had left an impression on Dorian, one that lingered longer than he wanted to admit.

He glanced over at the food booth, where Rhys was leaning casually against the counter, chatting with a few lingering volunteers. His usual carefree grin was in place, though Dorian couldn't help but notice the subtle tiredness in his posture. It had been a long day for everyone, and even Rhys, with all his boundless energy, was starting to show signs of fatigue.

Dorian hesitated for a moment, the thought forming in his mind before he could push it away. He didn't owe Rhys anything, did he? But then again, Rhys had stepped in earlier when it mattered—had defended those girls without a second thought, and even though he brushed it off with his usual humor, Dorian knew there was more to it than that.

Without thinking too much about it, Dorian made his way over to the nearby refreshment table, where a few drinks were still available. He picked up a bottle of cold water and started walking toward Rhys, his mind racing with the suddenness of his own decision.

By the time he reached Rhys, Dorian was already second-guessing himself, wondering if this was a mistake. But it was too late to turn back now.

Rhys looked up as Dorian approached, his grin widening in that easy, familiar way. "President," He greeted, pushing away from the counter. "Here to congratulate me on a job well done?"

Dorian rolled his eyes, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Not quite."

Before Rhys could respond with another teasing comment, Dorian extended the bottle of water toward him. "Here. You've been working all day."

For a moment, Rhys blinked, clearly taken aback by the unexpected gesture. His gaze flicked from the bottle to Dorian's face, his usual playful expression softening ever so slightly. It was as though he hadn't expected this—not from Dorian, at least.

"Thanks," Rhys said, his voice quieter than usual as he took the bottle.

Dorian shrugged, feeling a bit awkward now that the gesture had been made. He wasn't used to these kinds of moments, and he certainly wasn't used to showing appreciation so openly, especially to someone like Rhys. But for some reason, it had felt like the right thing to do.

Rhys opened the bottle, taking a long sip before glancing back at Dorian with that familiar spark in his eyes. "Didn't know you cared."

Dorian's cheeks flushed slightly, though he quickly masked it with a smirk. "I don't. I just didn't want you collapsing in the middle of the garden."

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. "Uh-huh. Whatever you say, President."

For a moment, they stood there, the quiet of the evening settling around them as the last of the visitors drifted away. The garden, now bathed in the soft glow of dusk, felt different—calmer, more intimate, as though the world around them had slowed down just enough for them to breathe.

Dorian shifted slightly, his eyes drifting over the nearly empty booths. "The event went well," He said after a moment, breaking the silence. "Better than I expected."

Rhys raised an eyebrow, his grin returning. "Was that a compliment? Are you saying I actually did a good job?"

Dorian rolled his eyes again, though this time, there was no denying the slight smile on his face. "Don't get used to it."

Rhys laughed softly, his gaze lingering on Dorian for a moment longer than usual. There was something different about him now—something quieter, more reflective. For the first time since they had met, Rhys seemed less like the carefree troublemaker Dorian had always assumed him to be, and more... real.

"Still," Rhys said, his tone softening, "It wasn't all bad working with you today."

Dorian glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "You're not just saying that because I gave you water, are you?"

Rhys grinned, though it was more subdued than usual. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just saying it because you're not as bad as you think you are."

Dorian's heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment, and for a brief moment, he wasn't sure how to respond. Rhys had a way of catching him off guard—of slipping past his defenses without even trying. It was unnerving, but at the same time, Dorian couldn't deny the strange sense of connection that had been growing between them all day.

Before he could think too much about it, Rhys gave him a playful nudge with his elbow. "Come on, President. It's the end of the day, and you've earned a break. Relax for once."

Dorian hesitated, his mind warring with itself. Relaxing wasn't something he did easily, but standing here with Rhys, in the quiet of the evening, with the stress of the event behind them... it didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"Maybe," Dorian said, his voice softer than before.

Rhys smiled at him, the teasing edge gone from his expression. "Take it from me—you'll feel better if you just let go a little."

For a long moment, they stood there in the fading light, the unspoken tension between them hanging in the air. Dorian wasn't sure what to say, wasn't sure how to deal with the strange mix of emotions swirling inside him. But as he stood beside Rhys, the usual weight on his shoulders felt just a little bit lighter.

And for once, he didn't mind that at all.

_

The day had stretched long and full, but as the sun dipped below the horizon and the festive hum of the fundraiser began to die down, the final event of the day approached. Visitors, students, and staff filtered into the academy's grand auditorium, taking their seats as they prepared to listen to the closing speeches. It was Dorian's responsibility to give the final thank-you speech, a moment to acknowledge everyone's hard work and officially conclude the event.

As Dorian stood backstage, the weight of the day settled on his shoulders. He had prepared for this—like he always did—but the emotions swirling in his chest felt heavier than usual. The strange encounter with the Omega couple, the tension with Rhys, and the ever-present uncertainty about whether his parents would attend the event weighed on him, clouding his thoughts.

Just as Dorian was running through the speech in his mind, he felt a presence behind him.

"Hey, President."

Dorian turned, already knowing who it was before he saw him.

Rhys stood there, his usual grin in place, though there was a softness to his expression that hadn't been there earlier. He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the wall, his eyes bright with a playful glint.

"Big moment coming up, huh?" Rhys teased lightly.

Dorian nodded, his face serious as always. "I've got it handled."

"Of course you do," Rhys said, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. "But still—good luck. Not that you need it, but, you know... it's nice."

Dorian blinked, caught off guard by the small gesture of encouragement. It wasn't something he was used to—especially from Rhys, who always seemed to exist in a world free from worry or pressure. For a moment, he wasn't sure how to respond.

"Thanks," Dorian said quietly, his throat tightening for reasons he didn't quite understand.

Rhys gave him a wink. "Go knock 'em dead, President."

With that, Rhys stepped back, melting into the crowd of students as the doors to the auditorium closed. Dorian took a deep breath, gathering his composure as he heard the quiet murmur of the audience filling the seats.

The moment had come.

_

The auditorium was dimly lit, save for the bright lights focused on the stage. Rows of visitors and students filled the seats, their faces turned toward the podium where Dorian now stood, poised and calm. He gripped the edges of the podium lightly, scanning the crowd as he began his speech, the words flowing smoothly from memory.

"Thank you all for attending today's fundraiser," Dorian began, his voice steady, though his chest tightened slightly as he spoke. "This event would not have been possible without the hard work and dedication of our students, staff, and volunteers. Your generosity will help make a lasting impact on our community, and I am deeply grateful to each and every one of you."

His eyes moved across the rows of faces, offering brief nods of acknowledgment as he spoke. He was almost halfway through the speech when something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

In the back of the auditorium, near the exit, sat the Omega couple from earlier that day.

His breath hitched for just a second, his heart skipping a beat as he recognized them—their white-blonde hair and dark waves, their quiet strength and grace. They were seated together, close but unobtrusive, their eyes focused on him with an intensity that made Dorian's chest tighten.

But before he could fully process the sight of them, his gaze shifted—and that's when he saw them.

Eryx and Cassandra Vaelis, sitting in the front row.

Dorian's heart lurched, his carefully constructed composure wavering for a split second. His parents were here. After all his assumptions that they wouldn't attend, they were seated right in front of him, watching him with cool, composed expressions. Eryx, tall and stern, sat with his arms crossed, his pale blue eyes sharp and assessing. Cassandra, elegant as ever, sat beside him, her posture impeccable, her dark amber eyes unreadable.

Dorian's pulse raced, his throat tightening as he struggled to keep his composure. He hadn't expected them to come. They never attended school events unless there was something in it for them—some prestige or social benefit. And yet, here they were, sitting at the front of the room, watching him with the same critical eyes he had grown up under.

For a brief, painful moment, he felt like a child again—desperate for their approval, for their acknowledgment, even though he knew better than to expect it.

But he couldn't falter now. Not here, in front of everyone.

Dorian swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue, though his mind raced with questions. Why were his parents here? And why did the sight of that Omega couple in the back make his chest ache in ways he couldn't understand?

"The success of this event," Dorian said, his voice steadying again as he refocused, "Is a testament to the strength of our community. I am proud to be a part of Haleworth Academy, and I am proud of the work we have done today."

As he finished the speech, the auditorium filled with polite applause, but Dorian's mind was far from the praise. His gaze drifted between his parents in the front row and the Omega couple in the back, the strange, unsettling sense of recognition hanging heavy in the air.

He stepped back from the podium, his heart still racing, as the applause faded.

From his spot at the side of the stage, Rhys watched him with an expression that was somewhere between amusement and curiosity. But Dorian couldn't focus on Rhys right now. Not when both the past and the present were colliding before him in ways he couldn't yet understand.

_

The applause still echoed faintly in the auditorium as Dorian made his way backstage, his heart still racing from the speech. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions—the strange, familiar pull from the Omega couple he had seen, and the shock of seeing Eryx and Cassandra Vaelis sitting in the front row. He hadn't expected them to attend, and their presence had thrown him off more than he cared to admit.

As he stepped behind the curtain, his shoulders sagged slightly in relief. The formalities were over, and he could breathe again—at least for a moment.

"Hey, President."

Rhys' familiar voice greeted him, breaking through his scattered thoughts. Dorian looked up to find Rhys leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed, that ever-present grin tugging at his lips.

"Nice speech," Rhys said, pushing off the wall and walking over to meet him. "Very presidential."

Dorian sighed, the tension still lingering in his chest. "Thanks."

Rhys raised an eyebrow, noticing the tightness in Dorian's voice. "You okay? You look a little... rattled."

Dorian shook his head, trying to brush off the unease that clung to him. "Just... a long day. And I didn't expect my parents to show up."

"Ah," Rhys said, his eyes glinting with understanding. "So, the mighty Eryx and Cassandra Vaelis decided to grace the event with their presence, huh?"

Dorian nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah. I didn't think they would come."

Rhys gave a soft chuckle, his eyes scanning Dorian's face. "And that bothers you?"

Dorian didn't answer right away, his thoughts still tangled. He had spent his whole life trying to live up to his parents' expectations—trying to prove himself worthy of the Vaelis name. But even now, standing here after a successful event, he felt that familiar weight of judgment pressing down on him.

"I don't know," Dorian finally said, his voice quieter than usual.

Rhys studied him for a moment, his expression softening slightly. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you did great. Your speech was solid, and the whole fundraiser went off without a hitch. But, you know... if your parents say something otherwise, just ignore them."

Dorian let out a small, breathy laugh, though it was tinged with tension. "Easier said than done."

Rhys smiled, though there was a sharpness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "Maybe. But just remember, Dorian—you don't owe them anything."

Before Dorian could respond, a new presence filled the backstage area—a presence that made his stomach tighten with dread.

Eryx and Cassandra Vaelis stepped into view, their elegant figures casting long shadows against the walls. Eryx's cold, sharp gaze immediately swept over Dorian, and beside him, Cassandra's eyes flicked toward Rhys, her lips pressing into a thin line.

For a moment, the tension in the air was palpable, like a cold gust of wind cutting through the room.

"Dorian," Eryx said, his voice as commanding as ever. "That was an impressive speech."

Dorian's chest tightened at the rare praise, though he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that followed.

"Thank you," He said, keeping his tone respectful.

But Eryx's attention had already shifted. His pale blue eyes moved toward Rhys, narrowing slightly as he took in the Omega's relaxed posture and casual demeanor.

"You," Eryx said, his voice cold. "You were the one involved in Dorian's... detention, weren't you?"

Beside him, Cassandra's dark amber eyes flickered with faint disdain as she too sized Rhys up. Her posture was as immaculate as always, and yet, there was a chill to her expression that made it clear she was not impressed.

Rhys didn't flinch under their scrutiny. If anything, his grin widened, as if the icy atmosphere around Eryx and Cassandra had no effect on him whatsoever.

"That's right," Rhys said easily, meeting Eryx's gaze without hesitation. "That was me."

Eryx's jaw tightened slightly, his lips pressing into a firm line. "I see."

For a brief, tense moment, the room felt stifling. The unspoken judgment from Dorian's parents hung in the air like a heavy weight, but Rhys didn't seem fazed. He held Eryx's gaze with the same unbothered confidence that had always irritated Dorian—and yet, in this moment, Dorian found himself oddly grateful for it.

Cassandra's voice cut through the silence, her tone laced with cold politeness. "I trust there will be no more... incidents?"

Rhys' smile remained fixed in place, though there was a flicker of something sharper in his eyes. "No incidents. Just a misunderstanding."

Cassandra's amber gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she turned her attention back to Dorian. "We'll discuss the event later," She said coolly, her tone leaving little room for debate. "I expect you to meet us in the car."

Dorian nodded stiffly. "Of course."

Without another word, Eryx and Cassandra turned and walked away, their presence leaving a lingering chill in the air.

As soon as they were gone, Rhys let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a smirk. "Wow. Your parents really know how to make an entrance, huh?"

Dorian didn't respond right away. His chest felt tight, and his mind was still reeling from the brief but intense encounter. The weight of his parents' judgment—always present, always looming—pressed down on him even now, after everything that had happened.

"They're just... strict," Dorian finally said, though his voice sounded hollow, even to himself.

Rhys glanced at him, his expression softer now. "Strict? Or suffocating?"

Dorian's throat tightened, but before he could respond, Rhys clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Hey, don't let them get to you. You're more than whatever they think you are."

Dorian blinked, caught off guard by the words. Rhys had always been carefree, always full of teasing remarks and reckless charm, but in this moment, there was something deeper in his voice—something that Dorian hadn't expected.

"Thanks," Dorian said quietly, his chest tight with a mix of emotions he couldn't quite name.

Rhys grinned again, the tension from earlier melting away. "Anytime, President."

_

Dorian stood still for a moment, staring at the space his parents had just occupied, his mind buzzing with everything that had just transpired. The tension that always accompanied their presence still clung to him like a second skin, tight and suffocating.

He felt Rhys' eyes on him, and for some reason, that steady gaze was the only thing keeping him grounded in the moment.

When he finally turned, he found Rhys still standing there, hands casually tucked into his pockets, but there was something different in his expression. The usual teasing glint in his eyes had softened, replaced by a quiet intensity. He didn't say anything right away, just watched Dorian with that same easy confidence that had always made Dorian feel both irritated and—if he was honest—curiously drawn to him.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Dorian shifted, unsure of what to do next. The formalities of the day were over, his duties finished, and yet... he found himself reluctant to leave. And the strange thing was, he could sense that Rhys felt the same.

"You know," Rhys said finally, breaking the silence but keeping his voice low, "You don't have to rush off. Not just yet."

Dorian blinked, surprised by the suggestion. He could feel the weight of his parents' expectations pressing on him, could practically hear Cassandra's voice reminding him to meet them in the car. But as his gaze flicked back to Rhys, something in him resisted the idea of leaving—just yet.

"I probably should go," Dorian said, though the words felt weak, unconvincing.

Rhys gave a small, knowing smile. "You probably should. But that doesn't mean you want to."

Dorian felt his pulse quicken slightly. Rhys had a way of seeing right through him, of cutting to the heart of things without all the formality or pretense that Dorian was used to. And in this moment, Rhys was right. He didn't want to go—not after the day they'd had, not after the unexpected closeness that had developed between them.

It wasn't just about the fundraiser anymore. Something had shifted between them, and Dorian couldn't ignore it, even if he wasn't sure what it was yet.

He hesitated, glancing toward the backstage door that led out to the parking lot, where his parents were likely waiting for him. But his feet remained firmly planted where they were, as if some invisible force was keeping him tethered to this moment with Rhys.

"I guess I could stay a little longer," Dorian admitted quietly, his eyes flicking back to meet Rhys' gaze.

Rhys' smile widened, a soft, almost relieved look crossing his face. "Good," He said, his voice light. "Because honestly, I wasn't ready to call it a night yet."

They stood there for a few moments longer, the weight of the day easing just slightly between them. There was still tension—an unspoken pull that lingered in the air—but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was something else, something that kept drawing them closer without either of them having to say a word.

Dorian felt a small, unfamiliar flutter in his chest as Rhys took a step closer, his presence warm and grounding in a way that Dorian hadn't expected.

"You're a lot more fun when you're not worrying about all the 'presidential' stuff," Rhys teased, though there was no bite to his words. "You should do it more often."

Dorian gave a faint smile, though his mind was still spinning with the events of the day. He wasn't sure how to navigate this—the sudden pull between them, the way Rhys seemed to effortlessly break through the walls Dorian had built around himself for years.

"I'm not used to... this," Dorian admitted, his voice quieter than usual. He wasn't even sure what he was referring to—whether it was the tension between him and Rhys, or the sense of ease that Rhys seemed to carry with him, or maybe both.

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a playful glint returning to his eyes. "This? What, hanging out? Relaxing? You really need to learn how to let loose, President."

Dorian huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "It's not that simple."

Rhys tilted his head, his gaze softening. "Maybe not. But it doesn't have to be as hard as you're making it either."

Dorian's throat tightened at the words. He wasn't used to this—people talking to him like this. Rhys didn't see him as just the perfect, composed leader that everyone else did. He saw past that, to the parts of Dorian that even he wasn't sure he fully understood.

And for reasons Dorian couldn't quite explain, he didn't want to leave that behind just yet.

Rhys took another step forward, his voice dropping just slightly, his tone teasing but warm. "So... what do you say? Stay a little longer. I'll make sure you have fun."

Dorian's pulse quickened again, his gaze locking on Rhys' for a brief moment. There was something unspoken between them—something neither of them had fully acknowledged, but that hung in the air nonetheless. And for once, Dorian didn't want to fight it.

"Alright," Dorian said, his voice low. "Just a little longer."

Rhys' smile softened, a flicker of something warm passing between them. "Good choice."

And as they stood there, neither of them moving to leave, the weight of the day slowly began to fade away, replaced by something new—something that neither of them could quite define, but that neither of them wanted to end just yet.

Then, the space between them seemed to shrink by the second.

Dorian wasn't sure when it happened—when the casual banter had shifted into something more, something deeper. But now, as he stood there with Rhys just inches away, the air felt thick with a tension he couldn't ignore. His pulse quickened, each beat echoing in his ears as the moment stretched out, suspended between them.

Rhys had stepped closer, almost without Dorian realizing it. His body language was still relaxed, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes now—a subtle shift in the way he looked at Dorian, like he was seeing something he hadn't expected. The easy grin that usually played on Rhys' lips was gone, replaced by a softer expression that made Dorian's heart race even faster.

Dorian could feel the warmth of Rhys' presence, the closeness of his body making the air feel almost electric. His breath hitched as he caught the scent of Rhys—a fresh and vibrant blend of jasmine, rain-soaked earth, and a subtle hint of wild mint. The scent was crisp and grounding, like the calm after a storm, surrounding Dorian and making his thoughts blur. It wasn't overpowering, but it was enough to send a jolt through his senses, grounding him in the reality of just how close they were standing.

Far too close.

He should have stepped back—should have said something, done something to break the moment. But he didn't. He couldn't. His feet stayed rooted to the spot, and his gaze locked onto Rhys', drawn in by the intensity that simmered just beneath the surface.

Rhys' breath was warm, brushing against Dorian's face in soft, shallow waves, and Dorian's entire body tensed with the realization of how close they truly were. The world around them seemed to fade, the distant sounds of the auditorium and the day's event disappearing into the background. All that remained was Rhys—the look in his eyes, the heat of his breath, the pull between them that neither of them could deny.

Dorian's chest tightened as Rhys' gaze flickered down to his lips, the movement subtle but unmistakable. For a brief, breathless moment, Dorian felt everything slow. The space between them had all but disappeared, and in that single heartbeat, it felt like something was about to shift—something irreversible.

His heart pounded in his chest, the tension between them rising to a crescendo.

And then, just as they seemed on the edge of something more, the moment shattered.

"Dorian!"

The sudden voice snapped through the air like a whip, jolting Dorian back to reality. He blinked, his body stiffening as the spell between them broke. He jerked back, stepping away from Rhys as though waking from a dream.

His breath came quicker than it should have, his chest rising and falling with the weight of what had almost happened.

Rhys, too, pulled back, though his expression remained calm, unbothered. His eyes flicked to the source of the interruption with a casual, almost amused look, though the tension in the air still lingered like a heavy fog.

Dorian turned, his heart still pounding in his chest, and found Talia standing just a few feet away, her expression somewhere between surprised and concerned.

"There you are," Talia said, her voice a little breathless as she hurried over. "I've been looking for you. The teachers need your help closing out the event, and your parents... well, they've been waiting for you."

Dorian swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure as Talia's words sank in. His parents. Of course. He had almost forgotten. The reminder felt like a bucket of cold water poured over him, dousing whatever heat had been building between him and Rhys.

He nodded stiffly, though his mind was still reeling. "Right. I'll be there in a minute."

Talia glanced between Dorian and Rhys, her sharp eyes flicking over them as if sensing the tension in the air, but she didn't comment. Instead, she gave Dorian a quick nod and turned, heading back toward the event.

The moment she was gone, Dorian exhaled slowly, forcing himself to breathe. His heart still raced, and his skin felt warm in the wake of Rhys' proximity. He couldn't believe how close they had just been—how close he had come to crossing a line he wasn't sure he was ready to cross.

He turned back to Rhys, unsure of what to say.

Rhys, for his part, looked as calm as ever, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something deeper, something knowing. He smirked, a faint hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Saved by the bell, huh?" Rhys teased, though his voice was softer than usual.

Dorian's throat tightened, but he forced a small, tense smile. "Something like that."

For a moment, the tension between them hung in the air, the weight of what had almost happened still thick around them. But before Dorian could say anything else, Rhys gave a small shrug, his casual demeanor returning.

"Well, I guess duty calls," Rhys said lightly, though his eyes lingered on Dorian's for a beat longer than necessary. "See you around, President."

And with that, Rhys turned and walked away, leaving Dorian standing there, still trying to catch his breath.

As the distance grew between them, Dorian's chest tightened with a mixture of emotions—confusion, frustration, and something deeper that he wasn't ready to confront. He had never expected this—this tension, this pull toward Rhys that seemed to grow stronger with every interaction. And now, standing alone in the quiet of the backstage area, he was left to wrestle with the reality of how close they had come to something more.

With a heavy breath, Dorian turned and made his way toward the exit, his mind still spinning with the weight of what had almost happened—and the uncertainty of what it all meant.