UTOPIA HIGH

The fight

In the dimly lit Beaumont Palace garden, the clash of stunted and tall figures echoed through the air. Splintered furniture lay scattered, a testament to the chaos that had erupted. As the mediators failed to contain the escalating tension, Professor Van Hudevert's phone rang in his cozy home.

Interrupting his culinary pursuits, he answered to a distressed student. "Sir, it's a madhouse here, it's out of control!" The professor, now irritated, instructed, "Whoa, easy. Take a breath, relax, and talk to me. What's going on?"

The student, on edge, hurriedly explained, "Stunteds and talls are in a fight at the Beaumont Palace. Please help, Van Hudevert."

So pissed he could hardly contain his frustration, the professor hung up the call, switched off the cooking fire, and hastily donned his coat as he rushed outside.

Meanwhile, on the road, Reon and Rehina sped on a bike, the wind whispering through the surrounding pine forests. Time seemed to stretch in slow motion as they drew closer, Rehina's hair dancing beneath the helmet, striking Reon's visor. With a laugh, he removed one hand from her, letting it dangle in the rushing wind.

As the duo raced through the pine-scented air, their connection deepened. Rehina, watching Reon's joy in the rearview mirror, couldn't help but smile. The surroundings painted a vivid picture of speed and nature, creating an intoxicating blend of adrenaline and pine aroma.

Amidst the chaos in the garden, George and Morgan found themselves outside, away from the escalating fight between stunted and tall figures. Morgan held George, preventing him from moving, her frustration evident.

"I know you planted that watch, George. For what? To chase him out of my life?" Morgan's tone was accusatory. "The whole night, you've been taunting Reon, making him uneasy. Now he hates me. Are you proud of yourself? And you say it's for my own good?"

George, holding Morgan's hands, admitted, "Yes, I did all that, true. But can you blame me? You look at him the way you used to look at me. I didn't see it at first, but after inviting him, I saw how you always looked at his lips."

Infuriated, Morgan demanded, "Why didn't you talk to me, George? Why do you always take matters into your own hands? I'm your girlfriend; we need to have communication."

George smirked angrily, looking down. "Talk to you, huh? You want me to talk to you? So let me talk, Morgan. I hate the fact that guys feel comfortable around you. The way you let strangers into our life without boundaries. Hell, you slept at Reon's apartment the whole night, and an informant of mine told me you were having the fun of your life. What did you guys do?"

Stepping back, Morgan replied with anger, "So now I can't even have friends because of your insecurity? I have stand by you and never stop being at your side. Please, figure whatever this is and get my George back—the one I love and cherished since day one."

Before reaching far, George held Morgan's hand and said in a slow, sorrowful tone, "You're right. I may have gone a bit too far. It won't happen again. Please, I don't want to lose you."

Turning back, Morgan hugged him, tears flowing. "I'm sorry too. You are right. I was going deep for Reon too, and I know how it made you feel. I promise I will be with you, and no in-betweens. You're my boyfriend, but also my best friend, and I love you."

In the tender embrace, George's expression softened, revealing a caring face as he felt the warmth of Morgan's hug for the first time. Meanwhile, Gray, driving slowly on the road with a heavy heart, parked his car aside. Frustration and emotions overwhelmed him, and he began hitting the wheel in pain.

Looking at his phone on the passenger seat, he opened the window, ready to cast away the source of his distress. As he raised his phone, a notification flashed on the screen. Six missed calls and a message from his father. With a heavy heart, Gray took a moment to listen to the voice note, playing it on loudspeaker.

"Uhm, hi son," his father's voice began, crackling with emotion. "I don't know how to begin to fix our relationship. I've taken time to assess how I treated you, not supporting your choices, pushing you further away." His father's voice broke into sobs. "I'm sorry, son. I want to be a part of your life, support and respect your dreams. Please call me. I love you, in case you didn't hear me the first time."

Gray, his eyes now covered with tears, put his phone on his chest. Leaning his head against the steering wheel, he couldn't contain the overwhelming sorrow. The weight of his father's heartfelt words echoed in the silent car as he cried, grappling with the pain of a strained relationship and the possibility of reconciliation.

In the midst of chaos, the Beaumonts found themselves away from the venue, frustration evident. Auriele, the most angered, kicked a chair, exclaiming, "This is not how I expected our party to end!"

Etienne, assessing the situation, calmly remarked, "Well, it went well. Now we've made the gap between the stunted and us grow even further. It's a win for me."

Romain interjected, "True, but you have to consider that people are tearing our place apart."

Sasha, dismissive, stated, "Well, it's just things. Daddy can replace them. My only issue is the boy that went away with our sister. The Blancs won't be happy about this."

Etienne replied confidently, "We'll close that bridge when we get there. A lot of her exes were persuaded by money; it won't be any different this time."

Outside the castle, cars with sirens rushed in – the Utopia staff and the principal arrived to assess the matter. Meanwhile, Morson, making out with Tynab, was interrupted by a ringing phone. As he picked it up, his expression changed. Tynab asked, "What's going on?" Morson, visibly angered, replied, "You remember the party we approved? Well-conducted, right?" Tynab nodded. Morson continued, "Turns out it's a madhouse. Students fighting everywhere." Tynab, shocked, exclaimed, "Oh my God! How did that happen?" Morson, putting on his clothes, determinedly said, "There's one way to find out. Come on, let's go."

At the front of the palace, cars screeched to a halt. The principal and Mr. Van stepped out, dismissing the paparazzi. Mr. Van declared, "Time is over. You will be escorted outside the school. This party is over."

Paparazzi, trying to snap pictures, were escorted out of the gate. The principal, visibly frustrated, exclaimed, "These students will be the death of me, and they are only first years!" He ordered the staff, "Assemble everyone right now!"

Inside the castle, chaos unfolded. A kid was thrown over a glass table, two girls pulled each other's hair, and boys speared each other into the pool. Guards used their canes to break up fights. Amidst the mayhem:

Principal: "This is absolutely unacceptable! First years, acting like this?!"

Staff scrambled to assemble, and the principal continued, "We need to restore order immediately. Get the students under control!"

While the fights raged on, one staff member shouted, "Separate them! We can't let this escalate any further!"

In the midst of the turmoil, the principal's frustration echoed through the chaos. "I won't tolerate this behavior in my school! Disciplinary actions will be severe!"

As the staff worked to regain control, the echoes of breaking glass, shouting, and the struggle for order painted a vivid picture of the unraveled event within the once-elegant castle.