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Oliver stood before the mirror, his gaze fixed on his reflection. His clothes, meticulously pressed, clung to him like a second skin, exuding an air of pristine elegance. He reached for the opulent bottle on the vanity, its glass glistening with golden hues. With practiced precision, he released a cloud of fragrance, notes of deep amber and velvety vanilla swirling in the air, mingling with his anticipation. As he inhaled the intoxicating scent, memories of nights spent lingering in opulent halls and whispered secrets resurfaced, intertwined with the bitter truth of a world fueled by privilege. Laus, a man with an enigmatic smile, approached with purpose, adorning Oliver's lapels with brooches that bore symbolic weight. On the right, a mushroom, delicate yet resilient, a homage to his mother's brilliance, while on the left, a radiant star, an emblem of the Hiltern family's lineage. Laus' voice resonated, carrying a hint of vulnerability, as he whispered, "Because you are family." Oliver's eyes met his own reflection once more, searching for traces of kinship within the depths, grappling with the notion that family, like everything else in this fractured world, could be both a gift and a burden.

At the threshold of the grand entrance, Kennedy, donning the same impeccably tailored uniform, stood before Oliver. Adorned with two brooches, both bearing the resplendent emblem of stars, he exuded an effortless charm that caught Oliver's eye. A pang of bittersweet longing coursed through him as he acknowledged the intricate web of relationships that bound them all. In that moment, the weight of Laus' proclamation, of being family, settled upon Oliver's shoulders, mingling with the residue of their clandestine affair that had dissolved into the realm of memories just months prior. The realization that Laus saw him as a son, a revelation drenched in conflicting emotions, served as a catalyst for the mutual decision between Oliver and Kennedy to sever the fragile ties they once shared. Amidst the enigmatic corridors of Glynwood Academy, where secrets thrived and whispers became echoes, Oliver embarked on a journey colored by unspoken truths and the tangled complexities of love entangled with kinship.

Stepping foot within the hallowed grounds of the academy, Oliver couldn't help but feel the weight of weariness settling upon his shoulders. As the bustling throngs of eager students moved with animated vigor, he found comfort in his detachment from the collective energy that pulsed through the corridors. His countenance, an expression of weary resignation, contrasted sharply with the unbridled enthusiasm that radiated from Kennedy, who reveled in the pulsating vitality of their new surroundings. Seeking respite from the clamor, Oliver slipped away into a secluded corridor, seeking relief in the solitude that whispered promises of escape from the ceaseless rhythm of their fellow peers.

As Oliver's gaze wandered through the grand halls of Glynwood Academy, his mind drifted back to the dreams he and his mother had once shared. They had envisioned this very moment, the day he would step foot into the revered institution they both held dear. But his reverie was swiftly overshadowed by the specter of tragedy, a haunting presence that lingered in the recesses of his memory. The image of his mother, consumed by the very creation she had birthed, flashed before his eyes, and a sorrowful tear escaped the fortress of his somber gaze. The bitter taste of longing mingled with the sweetness of their shared ambition, leaving him suspended between the realms of what could have been and the harsh reality of what now remained.

With tear-stained cheeks and a heavy heart, Oliver gradually regained his composure. The torrent of emotions subsided, leaving behind a hollow ache that reverberated through his weary soul. Resolute, he made his way toward the reception, guided by the distant echoes of hushed voices and a solitary monologue that pierced the stifling silence. Standing at the threshold, he hesitated, a solitary figure on the precipice of a new chapter. The weight of anticipation and uncertainty pressed upon him, commanding his attention. He stood there, absorbing the weighty silence, waiting for the final notes of the monologue to fade into oblivion before crossing the threshold into a world teeming with secrets and hidden agendas. The solemn cadence of his footsteps resonated in the empty chamber, his presence a subtle intrusion upon the clandestine gathering.

As Oliver observed the vibrant scene of connections forming around him, he chose to linger on the outskirts, a silent spectator in the dance of camaraderie. His gaze swept across the enchanting decorations that adorned the grand hall, their resplendence failing to evoke wonder within his jaded heart. Memories of his destitute past infiltrated his thoughts, casting a melancholic shadow over his present existence. How he had transformed into a cynic, hardened by the bitter truths of life's inequalities. A familiar figure caught his eye in the distance, beckoning him with the promise of reassurance and familiarity. But the unspoken agreement between them, the mutual decision to maintain a necessary distance, held him back. And so, his attention shifted to a small group engaged in animated conversation. Amid their banter, a sudden clash caught his ear, a verbal skirmish that piqued his interest. [b]"Sorry, whatever, drop it."[/b] He hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting nervously from one face to another, before finally mustering the courage to speak up. [color=326960][b]"Um, hi there... Mind if I, uh, join you guys?"[/b][/color]

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