Divine's phone buzzed on the table.
Another message from Bob:
Bob, her 27-year-old best friend, was a vision of pure confidence—a trans woman who'd shaped her world with boldness and glitter. Bold makeup. Sleek outfits. A laugh that could chase away shadows. Bob had been there through Divine's worst nights, sitting by her when she couldn't speak, sharing her own stories of rejection and resilience.
"Your chariot awaits, queen 👑✨ "
She stared at the screen for a moment, her thumb hovering. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, slow and unsure. Trust bob to make a battlefield sound like runway
From across the room, Kingsley watched her.
> "You ready?" he asked, picking up his car keys. "I'll drive you."
Divine paused. "I....i already promised Bob," she said softly. "She offered to drop me first. I didn't want to say no. She is outside"
> "I just thought," he said carefully, "your first day back, it'd be good if I saw you off. I mean, I'm still your father."
She looked down. "I know, Daddy. But Bob's been planning this with me for weeks. She got me the school bag, helped with the uniform. It just… felt right."
There was a beat of silence. Kingsley looked like he wanted to say more—something about Bob, maybe. Something about how he felt left out. But he just gave a small nod instead, masking the hurt with a tight smile.
He nodded slowly, but something in him shut down. His silence was louder than a shout.
> "Alright. That's fine."
He reached for Joseph's bag instead. "I'll take your brother then.
Divine stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She hated that this goodbye felt incomplete. Lara came over and straightened her collar with a smile.
> "You'll shine, Divine," she whispered, pressing a light kiss to her temple. "Even if it takes time to believe it."
Divine swallowed the lump in her throat and she smiled lightly before she stepped outside.
Their compound was still wrapped in early morning quiet. Laundry lines swayed slightly in the breeze. The cracked pavement felt oddly familiar under her shoes. And then—
Honk! Honk!!
A car horn chirped once.
Bob leaned casually against her black sedan, holding a to-go cup with rhinestones around the lid. Her braids glinted gold in the morning sun. She wore oversized sunglasses and a tailored pink suit with sneakers. Divine had no idea how she made it work—but she did.
>
> "Morning, superstar ,Ooooh, look at you, "" Bob said, voice warm and teasing. lifting her glasses to get a better look. "Miss Diva looking like a Vogue cover in uniform. Come on, baby girl, give me a twirl."
Divine rolled her eyes, and ignore her she walk straight to the car while bob followed her
Divine ducked her head, shy despite herself. Her quiet nature always surfaced in moments like these, but Bob's grin was too infectious to resist.
"Get in, girl. We've got a kingdom to storm."
She popped open the passenger door. Divine slid in, letting the familiar scent of vanilla and lip gloss wrap around her like armor. The interior sparkled with little touches of Bob—glittery dashboard, mood lights, R&B humming low in the speakers.
As Bob pulled away from the curb, Divine caught a glimpse of Kingsley standing at the window. Just watching.
> "You okay?" Bob asked gently, one hand on the wheel, the other offering a bottle of iced water. "He'll come around. He loves you. He just doesn't know how to carry all of this."
Divine didn't answer. But she took the bottle.
They turned onto the main road. The drive to Crestwood wasn't long, but every passing street felt like a question she wasn't sure she could answer.
Bob glanced over, her eyes sharp with kindness.
"Listen," Bob said, shifting gears with flair. "You're not just going back to school. You're rising. And baby, when you rise—people stare. Let them."
> "You're stronger than you think, Divine. Those kids? They don't know half of what you've survived. And if anyone gives you trouble, you tell me. I've got heels sharp enough to handle 'em. Okayyy"
Divine smiled quietly, her heart steadying.
She wasn't sure if she was ready. But she was going anyway. No
Crestwood Academy stood like a palace she no longer belonged to. Tall iron gates, polished glass buildings, and neat hedges shaped like they were sculpted by hand. Divine stared through the windshield as Bob's sedan rolled to a stop in front of the main building. Students clustered outside in crisp uniforms, laughing like the world had never hurt them.
Bob lowered the volume on the radio and leaned in.
"Alright, diva. You've got this. she said, her voice was low but fierce. And if it all gets too weird? "Text me if you have or need an escape plan."
I'm one text away. We vanish."
Her voice was light, but her eyes said more—I've got you.
Divine nodded once, It was a lie. But Bob didn't press. she swallowed hard, and stepped out.
The early sun hit her face, and for a second, the warmth felt like her mother's hand.
She pulled her hoodie sleeve down and adjusted the strap on her bag—and froze. There, pinned just above the front pocket, was a badge. Handmade. Glittery. Crooked.
"Dancing Queen Divine"
Drawn in crayon. Joseph's handwriting. Her little brother, always trying to make her laugh with something ridiculous. Her throat tightened. She blinked fast. Not here. Not now.
.
Inside the school, the polished floors gleamed too much. The smell of wax and paper and perfume hit her like a wave. Memories stirred—shoes squeaking on dance studio floors, hushed giggles in changing rooms, the sound of her name once called like it mattered.
Now, silence followed her. Not literal—but the kind you feel. Heads turning. People watching without watching.
"That's the girl."
The one who disappeared. The one who saw everything burn.
She kept her eyes on the floor, fingers brushing the locket at her chest. Her mother's. The only thing the fire hadn't taken. Every time she touched it, she felt steadier. Almost.
Her hands started to tremble. Not from fear—just the usual static. Like she wasn't all the way here.
"Divine?"
She flinched.
it was mia, from dance club. Her curls still bounced when she moved. Her smile faltered when she saw Divine's face up close. But she didn't say anything awkward. Just: stood by a row of lockers
"You're back, I'm..... i'm glad." " i mean It's… really good to see you." Mia said softly
Divine gave the smallest nod. She wanted to say thank you. She really did. But the words were stuck behind a wall of fog. Mia didn't ask more. She didn't need to. That was what made her different.
As she walked away, her eyes caught someone ahead—leaning casually against a locker. A boy she didn't know. . Neat haircut. Calm, unreadable expression. Their eyes met briefly. He didn't stare. Didn't whisper. Just looked. And looked away.
He didn't flinch.
And then it happened again—
Her mother's face. Reflected in the glass of a trophy case. Burnt. Silent. Watching.
Divine stopped walking. Her breath hitched. The hallway swirled for a second.
But she didn't collapse. She'd learned how to hold it in, even if it twisted her insides.
No one had seen her panic. She ducked her head, her body stiff, and moved fast—past a row of lockers, around the curve of a stairwell—until she found a classroom with the door slightly open.
Empty.
Sat near the back. Rested her head on her palm, hoodie sleeve hiding her wrist. She let her self breathe in and out
She hated how her body still reacted like that. Like the accident was yesterday. Like the fire never left her skin.
She hadn't told Lara about the new visions. Or Bob. Not this one.
She didn't want to be seen as broken.
She just needed one more moment. One more breath.
Then she'd be ready.
She could still feel the badge on her bag, glitter pressing against her side
Joseph's stupid little prank.
"Dancing Queen Divine."
It didn't feel true. But for now, it was something to hold on to.
She stayed quiet. But she stayed.