Mr.Brightside

Chapter 127

The Gallery Night

The night of the gallery event arrived with an air of anticipation that buzzed through the Council House. Clara had been up since dawn, overseeing final preparations. The main hall had been transformed into an art lover's paradise, with rows of easels displaying paintings, photographs, and sculptures. Strings of twinkling lights hung overhead, casting a warm glow that softened the room's rough edges.

Jack was already stationed at the entry table, greeting attendees and handing out programs. The sound of murmured conversations and footsteps on the wooden floor filled the space as guests began to trickle in.

"This turnout is amazing," Clara whispered to Tanya, who was busy arranging name cards for the artists.

Tanya nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. "I think we might actually pull this off."

By the time the event was in full swing, the hall was packed. Local residents mingled with out-of-town visitors, all drawn by the unique blend of art and history. Clara moved through the crowd, chatting with guests and thanking them for coming.

At one point, she stopped to admire a painting of the Council House itself, depicted during its early years. The artist, a middle-aged woman with silver-streaked hair, stood nearby.

"This is incredible," Clara said, gesturing to the painting. "You've captured it perfectly."

The woman smiled. "Thank you. I've always felt a connection to this place. When I heard about the fundraiser, I knew I wanted to contribute something meaningful."

Clara's heart swelled with gratitude. "You've done more than that. This piece tells a story, and that's what we're trying to save."

Meanwhile, Jack was working the room in his own way, striking up conversations with potential donors and subtly steering the topic toward the Council House's future.

"Your work here is truly inspiring," said one guest, a man in his fifties with a sharp suit and a curious demeanor.

Jack smiled. "Thank you. But it's really the community that's inspiring. Everyone's come together to make this happen."

The man nodded thoughtfully. "I'd like to discuss how I can help further. Perhaps a matching donation campaign?"

Jack's eyes lit up. "That would be incredible. Let's set up a time to talk more about it."

As the evening progressed, a sense of unity and optimism filled the room. Clara found herself repeatedly glancing at Jack, who seemed to thrive in the crowd.

"You're staring," Tanya teased as she handed Clara a glass of sparkling water.

Clara flushed. "Am I that obvious?"

"Only to people who know you," Tanya said with a wink. "But seriously, you two make a great team."

Clara smiled, her gaze drifting back to Jack. "Yeah, we do."

The highlight of the night was a brief speech by Jordan, who had reluctantly agreed to step into the spotlight. Standing on the small makeshift stage, he spoke about his own memories of the Council House and why it mattered so much to the community.

"This place isn't just a building," he said, his voice steady despite his nerves. "It's a part of who we are. It's where stories start, where people come together, and where history lives. By saving it, we're not just preserving the past—we're shaping the future."

His words were met with thunderous applause. Clara felt a lump rise in her throat as she joined in, the weight of the moment sinking in.

By the end of the night, the gallery event had raised more money than they'd dared to hope for. The artists had been incredibly generous, donating a significant portion of their earnings to the cause.

Clara and Jack stayed late to help clean up, their energy buoyed by the night's success.

"I can't believe how well that went," Clara said, stacking chairs as Jack folded up the tablecloths.

"You've got to believe it," Jack replied with a grin. "This is what happens when people care. And they do, Clara. You've given them something to care about."

Clara paused, looking at him. "We've given them something to care about."

Jack smiled, nodding. "Yeah. We have."

As they turned out the lights and locked up for the night, Clara felt a deep sense of accomplishment. The fundraiser was far from over, but tonight had proven that their vision was possible.

Walking out into the cool night air, she glanced at Jack. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he said, his voice steady.

With that, they parted ways, both already thinking about the next step in their journey to save the Council House.

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