From once being rejected; the restaurant sparkled to welcome Igna. Waiters were at the ready to serve, the doorway led into a mournful ball of music. A dancing hall had been cleared for those who wished to partake in dancing. The orchestra to the director's credit was very much talented. They played through thick and thin. The groups formed per vestment and status. 'This sight sure brings back memories,' he entered. Few recognizable faces were here and there, students wore their uniforms.
"Look," voiced a girl holding a teddy, "-he's back."
"The boy who fought the director," snarled the white-haired boy, "-I can't stand him." The entourage of the student council couldn't be laughed at either. Where one side hosted the rich and famous, his group hosted heirs of prominent families. A smile and gentle pleasantries exchanged.
"President," said a rather reserved girl, "-why do you hate that boy so much?"
