Greek Secrets: Sisterhood and Scandals

The Night of All Sing

The night of AllSing wasn't about performing for AOII—it never was. They didn't compete like ADPi or Zeta, didn't put themselves on stage or risk embarrassing the chapter. Instead, they hosted the event, taking pride in organizing one of the largest fundraisers on campus. The responsibility of hosting, however, came with its own price.

Every AOII girl was required to sell 10 tickets. It didn't matter if you were president, a new member, or on the AllSing committee. Sell or face the consequences.

This year, the chapter advisors had stepped up the pressure. They'd created a massive bulletin board in the chapter room, listing the names of every member and the number of tickets they'd sold. Girls whose names sat at zero—or even under ten—were highlighted in red, as if branded with shame.

For Olive, this was just another layer of stress. Between helping Kendall's routine, her lingering confusion about their relationship, and keeping up with her own academic and chapter responsibilities, she'd barely had time to focus on ticket sales. As a result, her name had stayed on the board, glowing red like a warning.

"Ladies," their advisor, Mrs. Harper, had said during a meeting earlier that week, her tone firm and no-nonsense, "if you haven't sold your tickets by the night of AllSing, you'll be expected to stand outside the venue and sell them on the spot. No exceptions."

And now, Olive found herself shivering in the cold, holding a stack of tickets and forcing a smile as she tried to sell them to anyone who passed. Around her, other AOII girls stood scattered along the sidewalk, their faces equally miserable.

"This is ridiculous," muttered Claire, who stood a few feet away from Olive. "We're freezing, and nobody's buying tickets."

"Shh," Olive hissed, glancing toward the venue door where Mrs. Harper and another advisor were standing, clipboard in hand. "They'll hear you."

Claire rolled her eyes but stayed quiet, stamping her feet to keep warm.

Olive glanced down at her stack of tickets. Only two were gone, and those had been bought out of pity by a guy she barely knew in Sigma Chi. She hugged her coat tighter around herself, silently cursing the entire system.

As the night dragged on, the crowd trickled in, most attendees already holding their pre-purchased tickets. Olive's sales barely budged. She caught sight of Bethany at the door, clipboard in hand, smugly checking off the names of girls who had managed to sell out.

"Still have tickets, Olive?" Bethany called out, her voice dripping with faux concern as Olive walked by to warm up.

Olive shot her a glare. "Don't you have something better to do than micromanage?"

Bethany smirked. "Just doing my job. Maybe if you did yours, you wouldn't be out here freezing."

Olive clenched her jaw and turned away. The whole process felt humiliating, like a test she'd already failed. But this was AOII's way—it was about appearances, about control, about ensuring everyone lived up to their impossible standards.

By the time the event started, Olive's fingers were numb, her stack of tickets barely smaller than when she'd started. She trudged inside, her mood sour and her body cold, feeling the weight of another failure pressing down on her.

But what stung the most wasn't the tickets or the board—it was the growing realization that AOII wasn't what she thought it was. And maybe, neither was she.