﹅ ۰ ۰ ۰ 𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗦 ┊ ❪ 𝑨𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝑺𝙿𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚂! ❫
▍𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ kids from all different backgrounds,
whether that being raised by a villain, raised by a hero,
raised by a mom, raised by a dad, or raised by b...
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"𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒!"
The crowd erupted into cheers as Ben scored the winning goal of the tourney game. Elizabeth, among the others who were cheering, jumped up and down as she clapped her hands together with a large smile on her face.
The air was electric with excitement, and the entire stadium buzzed with energy as students jumped, clapped, and cheered. Elizabeth stood in the bleachers, caught up in the whirlwind of celebration. She'd never thought she'd enjoy Auradon Prep's legendary tourney games, but today, as she watched, she found herself cheering.
There was something about the rush of the game, the unity of the crowd, and the joy in everyone's faces that was absolutely contagious.
Beside her, Mal and Evie shared in her enthusiasm. Evie's eyes sparkled as she clapped along, while Mal wore a look of mild amusement, clearly not as impressed by the game itself as the others. But even she couldn't hide the faint smile tugging at her lips.
Tourney wasn't something Mal would normally find herself watching, but with her friends at her side and the excitement of Ben's recent goal, even she had to admit it wasn't half bad.
Suddenly, the crowd's noise softened as Ben made his way to the center of the field, microphone in hand. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "What's he up to now?" she murmured, a slight grin on her face.
"Excuse me! Can I have your attention, please?" Ben's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, drawing every eye in the stadium toward him. Standing on the cannon's stand in the middle of the field, he looked both excited and determined.
The microphone trembled slightly in his grip, but his eyes were locked on Mal, who exchanged a bewildered glance with Elizabeth and Evie.
Elizabeth's brow furrowed, recalling the cookie Mal had given Ben earlier. It had been laced with a love potion — a precaution, or maybe a bit of fun, Mal had said with a shrug. But from the way Ben was acting now, Elizabeth couldn't shake the feeling that the potion was working a bit too well.
With a grin, Ben shouted, "Give me an M!"
The crowd was quick to catch on, shaping their arms into the letter M, the enthusiasm spreading like wildfire. Elizabeth joined in, laughing with everyone around her, but Mal stood rooted in place, her confusion deepening with each passing second.
She exchanged a worried glance with Evie, who shrugged, equally at a loss.
"Give me an A!" Ben continued; his voice filled with passion. Elizabeth watched, captivated, as the crowd responded, raising their arms high and shouting along with him. "Give me an L!"
Understanding dawned across the crowd, and gasps rippled through the stands. Realization hit Audrey, Ben's supposed girlfriend, hard. She froze in the middle of forming the L, her smile vanishing as a look of betrayal crossed her face.
She stared at the ground, her arms slowly dropping as Ben's voice echoed louder, overpowering the stunned silence spreading through her section of the crowd.
"What does that spell?" Ben called out, grinning wide as his eyes found Mal's in the sea of faces.
"Mal!" the crowd shouted back, enthusiasm radiating from every corner. Elizabeth glanced at Mal, who was visibly stunned, her eyes widening as she tried to process what was happening.
Audrey, unable to bear it any longer, let out a soft, heartbroken whimper, tears welling up in her eyes. She quickly lowered her head and hurried across the field, disappearing into the shadows of the bleachers.
But Ben's focus was only on Mal. "Come on, I can't hear you!" he shouted, laughing with an almost giddy excitement that seemed to charm the crowd even more. He pointed toward the marching band. "Give me a beat!"
The band members exchanged a quick look of surprise, but they were ready. The drummers began, setting a steady rhythm, followed by the horns and strings, creating a lively tune that filled the stadium.
Ben's voice rang out over the beat, clear and unwavering, as he began to sing, his eyes never leaving Mal's. Each line was a declaration, a confession, and the intensity in his gaze left no room for doubt.
