Chapter 33 – IGNITE Festival: Lights, Drama, Trauma

We arrive at the grand hall.

The lights are brighter now. The place is decorated in color and celebration—banners flutter, music drifts, and laughter echoes down the corridor. But to me… this isn’t just a venue.

It’s that place.
The place where everything started.

My feet slow as we step past the threshold. The crowd fades into the background, replaced by memories that hit like a punch to the gut.

I can still see her—Hana.
My little sister, standing tall even though she was trembling.

I remember the smug grins of the “elites” as they stood above everyone else, as if this place belonged to them. I remember Mariam and Amin, soaked and humiliated, after someone lobbed rocks and sewage-filled balloons at them from the upper floor.

That smell.

That moment.

Something inside me snapped that day.

If anyone had laid a finger on Hana… I swear—
I would’ve crushed every last one of them. I was that close.

The heat of it still burns beneath my skin.

"Jeez..." I mutter under my breath, clenching a fist. "What a damn day that was…"

Beside me, Sylvia walks in silence, letting the atmosphere wrap around us.

Then she speaks, softly.

"You know… this is the time… when everything changed."

"Yeah." I nod, not trusting myself to say more. "Kinda remember it too well."

She doesn’t say anything at first. Just slips her arm into mine.

Her touch is warm—gentle. But there's a storm beneath her calm, I can feel it.

"I really wish…" she whispers, voice almost trembling, "…that I could turn back time. Just once. So I could’ve been there with you."

I look at her sideways. Her gaze doesn’t waver.

“Oi, dumbass,” I mutter. “What about Steward? Huh? You were busy with your own battles back then. There’s a reason you didn’t know me yet.”

A small smile breaks on her lips. Elegant. Soft. Dangerous.

"Yeah… I know," she murmurs. "But still... that was the moment I got curious about you."

I raise an eyebrow. “Curious, huh?”

She leans in a little closer, smirking. “Let’s just say, watching you flip the script on the entire elite student body... kind of gave me a crush.”

"Geez… you girls always pick the weirdest timing to confess things."

"Ara~? Is that a blush I see, darling?" she teases.

I turn away, ears burning.

Why does it always feel like I’m being hunted around her?

But… I can’t deny the truth.
That moment really did change everything.

And now—here we are. Full circle. Back where the story began.

Only this time… we’re not the same people anymore.

We step through the entrance of the grand hall—slowly, steadily—like it’s just another evening.

But it isn’t.

It’s this hall.

The one from a year ago.

And as the lights flicker across the polished floor, Sylvia and I both fall silent. No words need to be said. We remember.

The "orientation."

A day where tradition was just another word for tyranny.

Where power meant humiliation. Where elites stood above the rest, not because they earned it—but because they believed it was their birthright. And everyone else? Just background noise.

I remember it like a scar I never asked for.

The fear.

The silence.

But now?

Now the same hall is bathed in light and celebration. The banners flutter proudly. A red carpet unfurls down the center like it belongs in Cannes. And instead of hierarchy, there’s unity. Laughter. Music.

A blinding light hits us. The school media club pounces.

“Perfect!” one of the girls chirps. “Next, next! Smile again—say cheese!”

Sylvia and I pause, holding our pose.

I nod, trying to look composed. She tilts her head and tightens her grip on my arm. That’s when I hear the familiar sound of high heels behind me.

“Oi! Hold up, Sil! Don’t leave me hangin’, ya hear?”

No way.

A streak of red crashes into the frame—Priscilla, in a show-stopping crimson gown that contrasts Sylvia’s icy elegance. She flashes the camera a grin, lips painted to match her dress.

And suddenly—here we are.

Me. In the middle of World War Glamour.

Sylvia on my right—elegant, mysterious, glowing with controlled fire.

Priscilla on my left—bold, radiant, eyes flashing with mischief.

The camera girl squeals. “Three of the most talked-about students in school—together! Ready? 1… 2…”

Click!

And then—without warning—Priscilla leans in and plants a kiss on my left cheek.

Sylvia’s expression doesn’t change.

But her aura shifts.

She turns slowly, smiles sweetly… and then kisses my right cheek.

Click.

I stand there, heart rate spiking, a dumb smile frozen on my face like a hostage in a dating sim gone wrong.

I can practically hear the collective screams of my security squad in the distance.

Once inside the grand hall… it's like stepping into another world.

The air hums with excitement. Lights dance along the walls. Laughter echoes off polished floors. Students, teachers, parents—even the alumni—fill the space with life.

A true transformation from the battlefield of last year’s chaos.

This... is something else.

I look around, nodding to myself.

“That Mar… she’s really something.”

“Well then, darling~” Sylvia’s voice floats beside me like silk as she loops her arm around mine.

Before I can reply—

“Hey, babe! Let’s go, love! Chop chop!” Priscilla crashes in on the other side, practically sparkling in her fire-red dress.

I’m sweating bullets.

Why?

Because suddenly, every guy within a ten-meter radius is glaring at me like I just stole their life savings.

And let’s be honest…

Sylvia and Priscilla?

They’re the queens tonight. Stunning. Powerful. Charismatic. They make heads turn wherever they go.

And me?

The former ghost of the school, the nobody who just wanted to lay low and survive.

Now?

The guy sandwiched between legends.

Great.

My social death is imminent.

Just as I’m trying to breathe without combusting—

“BROOOO!!! THERE YOU ARE!!!”

Amin’s voice cuts through the hall like divine intervention.

I spin around, heart leaping with joy.

Amin, you beautiful bastard—I could kiss you right now.

He rushes toward us, eyes wide and gesturing frantically. Sylvia and Priscilla both tense.

Their eyes sharpen.

Oh no.

“U-Umm... Whoa there!! B-Bro!! It’s time! Didn’t you forget!?” Amin stammers, pulling me by the arm like his life depends on it.

And honestly? It does.

Sylvia crosses her arms. “Since it’s Amin... I’ll allow it.”

Priscilla exhales sharply, flipping her hair. “Fine then, babe. Amin’s lucky. I’ll allow it… this time.”

Amin and I bolt before they change their minds.

We hustle through the back hallway, the music growing louder as we near the stage.

Behind us, I catch a glimpse of Sylvia and Priscilla walking over to where my mom, dad, and siblings are seated—still glowing like royalty. I can already see Sam giving me a thumbs up. That kid’s having the time of his life.

We hit the backstage curtain just as the house lights dim.

From behind the mic, Mariam’s voice blasts across the entire hall.

“WELCOME—BACK—EVERYONE!!!”

The crowd erupts.

Cheering.

Clapping.

Roaring like thunder.

“Damn, man…” I breathe.

Amin adjusts his mic headset beside me, eyes wide. “Yep… that’s insane.”

The lights flicker once.

Then twice.

The first performance of the night—the anthem—is about to begin.

And I’m not sure whether I’m ready to step into the spotlight...

...or straight into chaos.

“Still remember the script? The musical notes?” Amin asks, clapping me on the shoulder as he hands me the setlist.

I nod. “Yeah… I remember.”

He grins. “You’re the lead on vocals and guitar. I’ll take synth. Mar’s on drums.”
“Just like the last time.”
“Exactly, bro.”

The hum of tension is already thick in the air as we step behind the curtain. I glance at the mirror near the backstage exit. My school blazer’s unbuttoned slightly, shirt sleeves rolled, and guitar hanging snug against my frame.

I warm up, quietly:
“Ooo… aaa… eee…”
Good. Voice is clear.

Mariam’s out front now, microphone in hand. Her voice roars like a festival queen reborn.

“EVERYONE READY!?”

A roar echoes from beyond the curtain.

That’s our cue.

Amin turns to me, his face glowing under the soft blue backstage lights. “Bro… it’s our time now. Let’s hit it.”

I nod. “Right.”

The lights dim.

A heartbeat—slow, deep, measured.

The synth starts, echoing like distant thunder. Then comes the soft piano, a nostalgic chord threaded with traditional Sabahan beats beneath it, giving it a modern ethnic edge.

The moment begins.

I step forward.

The spotlight blinds me for a split second—but I don’t flinch. The moment my feet hit center stage, the crowd erupts.

Their cheers crash like a wave, but I don’t break.

I raise the mic, my voice steady, drawing from everything—pain, growth, hope, and this moment we forged together.

When we're alone we ask ourself
What are we searching for
Deep in the night a dream is born
One that we can't ignore

From the front row, I see them—Mom, smiling and clutching her chest; Dad, giving me a silent, proud thumbs-up; even Sylvia, hand over heart, eyes glassy but unwavering.
And Priscilla—her smile… softer than usual.
Shinji’s wiping tears beside the juniors, muttering, “I-It’s just allergies, okay!?”

My throat tightens, but I keep going.

If you think we can't find the passion
And we're ready to take a chance
If we really believe we can make it
Then the power is in our own hands

The crowd roars back, like an arena during a world tour:
“IT’S THE MOMENT OF TRUTH!!!”

Mariam and Amin take their places beside me—she’s pounding the drums like a storm goddess, and Amin’s fingers fly across the synth keys.

We're giving it all
Standing together, willing to fall
If we can do it
Get up and prove it
Get up and show them who we are

Light beams swing across the sea of students. Phones are raised. Tears are shed. Even the ex-“elites” are clapping.

We press on—voices in unison:

It's the moment of truth
It's all on the line
This is the place
This is the time
Waited forever, it's now or it's never
Nothing can stop us now

Energy floods the hall. It’s euphoria.

The beat drops for a breath—and we charge into the next verse:

Once in your life, you make a choice
Ready to risk it all
Deep in our soul we hear a voice
Answering to the call

My hands don’t tremble.

My heart pounds in sync with the beat.

Though you know that it won't be easy
It's a promise we make for love
For the people that keep believing
And the one that we're thinking of

Mariam, Amin, and I raise our voices as one final cry—no longer just a song, but a declaration:

It's the moment of truth
we're giving it all
Standing alone, willing to fall
If we can do it
Get up and prove it
Get up and show them who we are
It's the moment of truth
It's all on the line
This is the place
This is the time

The final chord crashes.

The lights flare white.

And silence.

A single heartbeat passes—then—

The crowd detonates into applause.

It’s deafening.

Mariam raises her drumsticks and bows deeply. Amin throws both hands in the air, nearly dropping his guitar.

I just… stand there.
Soaking it all in.

It’s not just pride.

It’s not even about the performance.

It’s about us.

What we built.

What we fought for.

For once—there are no shadows chasing us.

No battles to survive.

Just this.

Just school.

Just life.

Mariam grabs the mic once more, her eyes blazing.

“THIS IS THE MOMENT OF TRUTH!! THIS IS OUR TIME!!”

The cheers shake the entire hall.

Even the parents are on their feet—clapping, hollering, some even waving school scarves in the air like they were reliving their youth.

My chest swells with a single thought—

So this is what school should feel like.

The lights dim, and the final echoes of applause fade into the warm hum of the crowd.

I take a slow bow.

Mariam’s voice blares through the mic, radiant with pride.

“Give it up for our singer!! One of the founding hearts behind our anthem—Alex!!”

The cheers explode again, echoing across the grand hall like rolling thunder.

But honestly…

…I don’t feel like I deserve it.

Not really.

Applause makes my skin itch. Attention tightens my chest. So I just give a small smile, another bow, and turn away before they can pull me into the spotlight again.

Backstage, the neon and confetti fade. Mr. Rahim catches me by the shoulder just as I’m slipping past.

“Nice. Simple and quick.” He nods, his voice gruff but genuine. “Good work.”

Praise from the Captain himself. That’s rare. I nod in return. “Thanks.”

He smirks. “Going back to security duties already?”

“Yeah. I’m not really the... spotlight kind of guy.”

Mr. Rahim raises an eyebrow. “Why don’t you just enjoy the moment?”

I lift my hand with a casual wave and walk off, my boots echoing down the hallway.

The hall behind me roars with music, laughter, announcements, flashes of light. Celebration. But I’m already slipping into the night air.

Outside.

Away from the noise.

A calm breeze brushes my hair back as I reach the outer school gate. The stars blink above—distant and quiet, like old friends who never ask questions.

“Hey, kid!” One of the older security staff calls out from the guardhouse, waving lazily. “Why aren’t you inside with the others? That was one hell of a performance!”

I sit down next to him, rubbing the back of my neck.

“I don’t really like crowds.”

He chuckles, reaching into his shirt pocket. “Smoke?”

I hesitate for a beat… then take one. “Thanks.”

We light up.

Silence. Just the quiet crackle of burning tobacco, the rustle of trees beyond the school wall, and distant thumps of bass from the grand hall.

A rare moment of peace.

Then—footsteps.

I glance over my shoulder just as the familiar voice of Mr. Rahman, our principal, cuts the silence.

“Of all times, I figured you’d be here.” He chuckles, his hands folded behind his back like a veteran watching his troops.

“You’ve got that loner aura down to a science, you know that?”

I shrug, exhaling a wisp of smoke. “Guess it’s easier this way.”

He walks up beside me, resting an elbow on the rail, gaze distant. “A lot of people are looking for you, you know. Teachers. Parents. Students. Especially a certain pair of girls.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Sylvia and Priscilla?”

He laughs. “Bingo.”

“I’m good out here. Let them enjoy it.”

“Don't like the crowd?” he asks, knowing full well the answer.

I scoff. “Too loud. Too much.”

He turns to me slowly. “So you hate this school?”

That question again.

I let the smoke linger between my lips for a moment before answering.

“…No. Not really.”

He raises a brow.

I smile faintly. “But at least it’s not boring.”

He laughs harder this time, the kind that comes from deep down. “Spoken like a true rebel.”

He steps closer, hand firm on my shoulder.

“Look around you, Alex. All of this—this celebration, this harmony, this change—it started because you stepped forward. You didn’t just shake the system. You reminded them what it means to be human again.”

I look away, eyes scanning the edge of the forest in the distance. The silence creeps in once more.

“You’re giving me too much credit,” I mutter.

“No. You’re just not giving yourself enough.”

I sigh. “You should go back inside. You’re the principal, right? Go soak in the glory.”

He gives me a playful salute. “I would, but then who’d keep you from vanishing into the night?”

I grin faintly. “Try stopping me.”

He turns away, but not before throwing one last line over his shoulder.

“Just remember, even wolves need to return to the pack sometimes.”

As he walks off, I finish my smoke. Above me, fireworks start bursting over the school dome—red, gold, and blue.

I close my eyes, letting the sound wash over me.

For a moment—

There’s no war.

No past.

No pain.

Just the sound of laughter.

And music.

And maybe… just maybe…

A chance at peace.

The cool burn of nicotine slides down my throat, numbing everything but the thoughts that refuse to quiet down. The school celebration thunders in the background like a distant war, muffled by the walls and trees. Out here—under the stars—there’s only silence. And smoke.

I exhale slowly, watching the smoke spiral upward and vanish into the deep, indigo sky.

Then…

A strange feeling creeps down my spine.

A presence.

Soft.

Like a gentle breeze brushing against the back of my neck.

My body tenses.

I don’t need to turn around.

I know that presence.

“Sil?” I mutter, voice low. “Just go ahead and have fun. You all deserve it…”

But there’s no answer.

Not from Sylvia.

Not this time.

Instead, a familiar voice—so delicate it stirs my soul.

“Well… I told you I wanted to experience it too.”

That voice.

I freeze.

My heart stutters. A memory long buried flickers to life.

Frederica.

She stands behind me—no, appears behind me. Or maybe… she’s always been here, lingering in the shadow of my heart. A presence not quite real, yet too vivid to deny. Her soft white dress dances with the breeze. Barefoot. Hair drifting like she belongs to the wind.

She doesn’t smile like a ghost.

She smiles like her.

The girl who once loved me.

The girl that I cared the most..

The girl I couldn’t protect.

The one who started it all.

Pure. Not lust.

Something… real.

“Stop acting like this,” she says, voice laced with soft amusement. “This isn’t you, and you know it.”

I lean back, resting my head against the cold wall of the guardhouse. “Like I said, this view—the sky, the stars… it’s better than that noise.”

“Nope. You’re missing it,” she teases, leaning slightly to the side, her arms behind her back like she’s floating in a dream.

“I don’t deserve it,” I reply, my voice low.

“Dumbass,” she giggles. “If this were the old you, you’d have jumped on that stage and gone full rockstar mode without hesitation.”

I chuckle.

Damn her.

Even now, she knows how to call me out.

“Maybe… but it’s not that simple.”

“Alex…”

She steps closer.

I feel it—not with my skin, but my soul.

“You’re not alone, you know. Not anymore. Stop running. Stop letting that darkness eat you alive.”

I glance down, fists clenched on my knees.

I try to say something, but all I manage is a faint smile.

“…Yeah. I guess I’d rather not.”

Her form begins to blur.

Like fog under the moonlight, she slowly fades.

And just like that—

Gone again.

Like always.

“Did you say something, kid?”

The old security guard next to me looks confused, scratching his beard.

“Huh?” I blink. “Nah… nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

He shrugs and returns to his thermos.

I lean back again.

The night sky stretches wide and endless above me.

But something feels different now.

Lighter.

I smile to myself, faintly.

The night air brushes against my cheek as I push off from the guardhouse wall and stand up straight, stretching my limbs.

“Hah… I told ya. I’d rather be in the jungle than at a party like this…”

My voice vanishes into the empty dark.

I give the old security guard a lazy wave and start walking. Slow steps. My boots crunch softly against the concrete as I do the usual—rounds around the perimeter.

Just like old times. Alone.

The music from the grand hall hums in the background like a distant heartbeat, echoing through the walls like ghosts of a life I’m not sure I belong to.

Eventually, I reach the top floor of the west wing. The windows up here overlook everything.

And there it is—the grand hall.

Bright. Loud. Alive.

It glows like a world apart.

So much light… so much warmth.

I rest my arm on the window frame, leaning forward, just watching.

That’s when my phone buzzes.

Nat.

My thumb hesitates before I answer.

“Darling,” she says softly. Her voice… familiar, sharp—but tender. The voice of someone who always knows.

“Hey, Nat.”

“I heard from Sil,” she continues, “and… Aunt Mas called. She said Sylvia got kidnapped?”

I sigh. Of course. It always circles back.

“Yeah… but it’s all good now,” I reply, eyes still on the window.

There’s a pause. Then Nat lets out her own sigh—calm, but concerned.

“Well… that’s a relief. I also heard… some good things came out of that mess.”

“Depends on how you define good,” I mutter, lips curling into a half-smile.

“Mm. You still haven’t forgiven that kid, huh?”

I know who she’s talking about.

Shinji.

I say nothing. Just silence between us.

That’s enough for her.

“I knew it,” Nat says with a small, disappointed sigh. “You’re still doing it again, huh?”

“…Doing what?” I ask, but I already know the answer.

“That thing where you push people away when they remind you of the past.”

I clench my jaw.

“Nat, don’t—”

“No. You listen this time.” Her voice sharpens. “I was there, remember? You saw Hiew almost stab me. You snapped. And now Shinji reminds you of him. But Shinji’s not him, Alex.”

“…Tch.”

“You haven’t forgiven him,” she continues. “Because you still haven’t forgiven yourself.”

I rub the back of my head in frustration, groaning. “You serious right now…?”

Then she drops the bomb.

“I found a ticket.”

“…What?”

“Back to Malaysia,” she says sweetly. “It’s a surprise. Oops. Not anymore.”

I nearly slam my head against the wall.

“You what!?”

“I just wanna see you again,” she adds, softer now. “And maybe punch you in the face for being a dumbass.”

I growl into the receiver, “Fine! I did forgive Shinji, okay!? It’s just…”

Memories. The knife. Her scream.

“Every time I see him… it brings me back to that moment. Hiew nearly stabbed you. I… I almost lost you.”

Silence.

Then her voice comes through, warm and steady.

“That’s why you need to move forward. Like you always did.”

My throat tightens.

“That’s what I admire about you, Alex,” she whispers. “You never let fear stop you. That’s what I love about you.”

“…Nat.”

And just like that, the sound of her voice wraps around me like a blanket.

Like always.

We stay on the line. No words.

Just heartbeats.