Riya braced herself, shoulders tightening.
“Fairy tales.”
The school’s reaction was immediate—a wave of shrieks and applause filtered faintly through the soundproofed AV room walls. Quin lit up at the sound, soaking in the adoration like sunlight.
Riya felt nothing.
“With that in mind,” Quin continued, sliding back into their smooth showman’s voice, “we’ve put together a short video to give you a better idea of what to expect.”
The screen cut to a slow pan through a forest, cast in an ethereal twilight glow. Fireflies flickered like distant stars.The camera, a little shaky, moved through the trees before landing on a closeup of a pristine red apple, left forgotten atop a mossy tree stump. Another shot revealed a circle of mushrooms, as dull and gray as stones in the dim light. The camera tilted slightly, catching a fleeting glimpse of someone’s golden hair disappearing behind a veil of leaves.
Gold text flashed across the screen:Once upon a time...
Finally, the screen cut again to a prince on an ornate throne—or, at least, a hurriedly painted throne of cardboard and spare wood from Woodshop—who stared at the camera with beaming blue eyes, thanks to the Film Club’s attempt at special effects.
It would be corny, borderline cringey if it weren’t for the fact that the prince, Quin, remained one hundred percent dedicated to their role, holding their plastic-bright crown with the seriousness of a royal.
Text appeared once more:
Find your happily ever after:
Abbersett Prom 2026
The screen went dark, and for a moment, the AV room was filled with silence, broken only by the faint hum of equipment.
Riya sat back, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The image of composure.
But inside, something ached.
The forest. The crown. The glitter. It was all so seamless,so beautiful—so easy. The kind of magic people wanted to believe in. Not the kind that rewrote your mind. Not the kind that devoured you from the inside out.
She had helped plan this. She’d worked overtime making it happen. And now, watching it play out, she felt like she was underwater—adrift inside someone else’s dream.
Because this was the version of magic everyone cheered for. The kind wrapped in tulle and fairy lights. The kind that promised happy endings.
And none of them had any idea that the real thing—the wild, chaotic, blood-price kind—was already here. Pressing in on her from every side.
“And that’s it!” Quin’s voice broke through, back on the screen. They beamed, their enthusiasm infectious. “I’m sure you get the idea: Think traditional fairy tales and fantasy, enchanted forests, princesses and knights and monsters, and of course,magic.”
“If you have any questions or concerns,” Riya added, her tone crisp, “please don’t hesitate to reach out to a member of Student Council—or use the newly installed suggestion box in the library.”
“Annnnd, done!” O’Leary called, the camera light clicking off. “Great job, you two.”
Quin turned to Riya. “Back to reality, huh?” They pushed the hair from their face with a practiced elegance and winked.
Like a fairy-tale prince.
Riya let out a dry, bitter laugh.
“I can’t believe you kept yet another secret from me!” Mel complained at lunch, excitement radiating off her like a sticky pink cloud. “Fairy tales, RiRi? That’s practically baiting me.”
“It was a surprise,” said Riya, taking a sip of her iced tea.
“Was it your idea? I mean, come on,fairy tales?”
“It was not.”
Mel gave a breathy little laugh, then glanced around the lunch table before adding, more carefully, “You do see the irony, right? My best friend, a literal peri, helping run a fairy tale–themed prom? That’s not symbolism—it’s, it’s cosmicsatire.”
