The campus buzzed with winter energy—scarves and knit hats, the scent of cinnamon drifting from the coffee shop, the faint strains of Christmas songs sneaking from dorm windows.
Lily walked slowly across the quad, her breath puffing little clouds in the cold air. Every step felt deliberate, almost sacred, like she was re-teaching herself how to move through the world without shrinking.
A week had passed since she'd opened her door to Eli. A week of letting herself heal. A week of answering Jess's texts with emojis at first, then full sentences. A week of sitting with Jasmine and actually tasting her coffee instead of numbly drinking it.
She wasn't all better. Not yet. Maybe not ever in the way she once imagined.
But she was trying.
And today, she was going to try a little harder.
The sign-up booth for the Winter Showcase had been moved indoors because of the weather. Lily found it tucked inside the student center, decorated with fake snowflakes and twinkling lights.
Her heart still stuttered as she approached.
But this time, she didn't look around for who's watching.
She just picked up the pen.
Hand shaking slightly, she scrawled her name on the sheet.
Lily Burnett – Vocal Performance.
Done.
No whispers this time. No cruel laughter.
Maybe they were still there somewhere, but Lily didn't hear them.
All she heard was her own breathing, steady and strong.
She turned around and found Jess standing a few feet away, clapping silently, her smile so wide it could have lit up the whole building. Jasmine popped out from behind her, holding up a small sign that read "YOU ROCK!" in glittery purple letters.
Lily laughed, embarrassed but warmed all the way through. She jogged over to them, and they immediately enveloped her in a group hug.
"I knew you could do it," Jess said into her ear.
"We never doubted you," Jasmine added.
"Thanks, guys," Lily said, blinking hard.
They pulled back, and Jess wriggled her eyebrows mischievously. "Sooo… celebration?"
Lily smiled. "Absolutely."
They headed off to the campus café, bundling themselves into a booth by the window. Jess ordered hot chocolate with way too much whipped cream. Jasmine got a chai latte. Lily chose a peppermint mocha, letting the rich, warm sweetness settle her nerves.
As they sipped and laughed about everything from ugly Christmas sweaters to Jasmine's catastrophic attempt at baking sugar cookies, Lily felt something she hadn't felt in so long—safe.
Not because the world had changed.
Because she was changing.
Later that night, Lily sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the USB drive Eli had given her days ago. She'd listened to the piano piece more times than she could count, but tonight she opened a fresh document on her laptop and let herself start writing.
Lyrics.
Tentative at first. Awkward. Unsure.
But as the melody played softly in the background, the words began to flow.
Words about falling and standing up.
About fear and defiance.
About not being perfect—but being real.
Hours passed without her noticing. When she finally leaned back, her fingers sore, she had a full page of lyrics.
A song.
Her song.
At rehearsal two days later, Lily stood in the back of the small campus theater, waiting her turn. Students milled around—some practicing scales, others warming up guitars or fiddling with keyboards.
Her palms were sweaty.
Her heart thudded.
But she stayed.
Eli found her just before her name was called, slipping in quietly from the side door. He gave her a small, encouraging nod, holding up his camera in a "got you" gesture.
Lily stepped onto the stage.
The room blurred for a second—too many eyes, too much space.
She clutched the microphone, closed her eyes, and pictured the oak tree in the gardens. The sunlight. The safety.
The first notes of Eli's piano track drifted from the speakers.
And Lily sang.
Her voice cracked once, wobbled. But she kept going. Pouring every broken, beautiful part of herself into the words.
When she finished, the room was silent for a beat.
Then—applause.
Not polite. Not forced.
Real.
Eli grinned from where he stood, clapping the loudest.
Lily stepped off the stage, heart hammering, body buzzing.
"That was incredible," Jess said, rushing to hug her.
"You killed it," Jasmine added.
Eli waited until the others had pulled back before stepping close. His brown eyes were warm, steady.
"I knew you could," he said.
Lily smiled, tears pricking her eyes again—but this time she didn't hide them.
"Thanks for not giving up on me," she whispered.
"I never will," he promised.
And somehow, Lily believed him.
That night, alone in her room, Lily looked at her reflection in the mirror. She studied the soft curve of her cheeks, the small scar above her eyebrow, the way her hoodie sagged slightly off one shoulder.
For the first time, she didn't catalogue the flaws.
She saw a girl who had broken and rebuilt herself.
A girl who had dared to sing anyway.
A girl who was, in every way that mattered, already enough.
She smiled.
"You're doing great," she told her reflection quietly. "Keep going."
And somewhere, deep in her chest, the melody she'd thought she'd lost rose again—full and fierce and beautifully her own.