Rejoice

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Chapter 21: Shifting Threads and Silent Wars

The announcement echoed in the grand auditorium, each word bouncing off the marble walls and hanging in the air like thread spools suspended in time.

"The final internship selection results will be posted by noon today. Students, return to your studios, and remain professional. Regardless of the outcome, remember — this is only the beginning."

Mrs. Happiness Scott's voice carried grace and authority, but beneath it was a tremor only the most perceptive could hear. She was aware of the tension building among the students, aware that behind the layers of stitched fabric and polished smiles, a storm brewed.

Rejoice sat in silence, her hands clasped tightly together as the rest of the students filtered out in groups of whispers and sighs. Zion remained beside her, his profile stoic.

"You okay?" he finally asked.

She nodded, then shook her head. "I should be. I want to be. But it's hard when everything you've worked for could be taken away with a click of a mouse."

Zion gave a faint smile, brushing a loose curl behind her ear. "No one can take away what you've already proven, Rejoice. You're brilliant. They'd be fools to overlook you."

His words warmed her more than she expected. Yet, even as his hand brushed hers gently, she could feel another set of eyes drilling into her from across the room.

Elizabeth.

She stood at the far end, arms crossed and lips pressed into a pout. Faith, Crystal, and Grace clustered around her like fashionable shadows. Though her eyes appeared fixed on the notice board, her attention was undoubtedly elsewhere.

"She's going to pull something," Rejoice muttered under her breath.

Zion followed her gaze. "Let her. You've already outshined her."

"No. She won't stop until she ruins me."

He turned to her fully now, a rare seriousness settling on his face. "Then maybe it's time she learns she's not the only one who can fight."

---

Back in the design studio, the energy was electric.

Tilda was pacing, her colorful headscarf bouncing with every step. Malik leaned against the drafting table, spinning a ruler in his hand. Daphne scribbled in her sketchpad nervously.

"I dreamed last night that my name was spelled wrong on the list," Daphne said. "But like... not in a funny way. Like it was replaced entirely."

"Girl, you better rebuke that in Jesus' name," Tilda said, mid-pace.

"Why hasn't it been posted yet?" Malik muttered. "It's ten minutes past."

Rejoice entered with Sonia just as her phone buzzed.

Salem Portal: New update — Internship List Posted.

Her heart flipped.

The students rushed out like water through a broken dam, flooding into the hallway. Rejoice stayed back, rooted in place. Sonia squeezed her hand.

"You got this."

Rejoice drew a long breath and followed.

The board was crowded. Students jostled for space, some gasping, some groaning. A few were already crying — both from joy and disappointment.

Then Rejoice saw it.

Top Ten Selected for Elite Fashion House Internship Program:

1. Daphne Okocha

2. Zion Elu

3. Rejoice Christie

4. Malik Onwe

5. Elizabeth Orji

6. Sonia Amadi

7. Crystal Williams

8. Tilda Ekanem

9. Grace Obasi

10. Faith Enwere

She blinked. Then blinked again.

Her name was third.

Cheers erupted from behind her as Daphne screamed and hugged Tilda. Malik did a backflip — or something dangerously close to one. Zion smiled proudly at Rejoice. But Elizabeth? Elizabeth was unreadable.

She had gotten in — barely.

Yet the venom in her stare said it wasn't enough.

---

That afternoon, the mood across campus was a wild tapestry of colors: joy, jealousy, hope, and sorrow. Those who didn't make the cut were told to continue participating in future projects, but the clear line had been drawn. The elite internship came with access to the most respected designers, brands, and mentors in the country. It was a golden key.

Mrs. Happiness called a private meeting with the top ten students that evening.

They gathered in the rose garden outside the administrative wing, sitting in a semi-circle as soft jazz drifted from unseen speakers.

"Congratulations," she said, her voice smoother than silk. "You are the best of the best. But do not let this success breed complacency. Some of you barely made it — and some who made it will wish they hadn't."

The cryptic warning hung over them.

"What do you mean by that, ma'am?" Crystal asked, adjusting her earrings.

Mrs. Happiness smiled gently. "Some internships test more than your talent. They test your soul. Your discipline. Your integrity."

Rejoice looked at Zion, and he met her gaze. Both knew she wasn't just talking hypothetically.

---

Later that night, while most of the campus celebrated or sulked in dorm rooms, Rejoice stood outside under the stars, sketchbook in hand. The theme for their final term project had been announced: "The Self in Fragments."

She didn't even know where to start.

But she had to win this.

"Still drawing under the moonlight?" Zion's voice came from behind her. He joined her on the stone bench.

"It's the only time my mind stops spinning."

He peeked at the page. "Fragments of the self, huh?"

She nodded.

"I think it suits you."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You're layered, Rejoice. Soft, fierce, insecure, confident... you're not one thing. You're everything. That's what makes you unforgettable."

Heat crept into her cheeks. "You've been getting poetic lately."

He laughed. "Blame you. You make the world feel like a story worth telling."

Their hands touched again. This time, Rejoice didn't pull away.

But that moment of quiet was shattered by a voice laced with thorns.

"Well, isn't this romantic?"

Elizabeth stood a few feet away, arms folded, flanked by Grace and Crystal.

Zion stood up immediately. "Elizabeth—"

"No, don't stop on my account." Her eyes glittered with sarcasm. "It's adorable, really. You two — the golden pair. So picture perfect. So... predictable."

Rejoice stood now too, holding her sketchbook tightly. "Is there something you need?"

Elizabeth took a slow step forward. "Only to remind you that this isn't over. You think being top three secures your place? Think again. People fall harder from the top."

Zion's voice was low and sharp. "You made it into the internship, Elizabeth. Can't you be content with that?"

She laughed. "Content? With third place stealing the spotlight? Please."

Then she turned to Rejoice. "You might have fooled everyone with your sob story and natural charm, but I see right through you. And when I expose you, they will too."

"Expose me for what?" Rejoice asked, voice steady.

Elizabeth's smirk widened. "You'll find out."

She turned and walked away, her shadows trailing after her.

Zion sighed. "She's reaching. She has nothing."

"I'm not so sure," Rejoice said, looking up at the stars. "People don't need truth to destroy you. They only need a good enough story."

---

The next morning brought chaos.

A post appeared on the Salem student board anonymously. It featured a photo of Rejoice's sketch — the exact one she'd been working on last night — next to an old design by a previous student from three years ago. The resemblance was shocking.

"When your 'fragments' come from someone else's work… Is this the real 'Top 3'?"

Gasps. Comments. Shares.

Rejoice felt the breath leave her body when she saw it.

Sonia barged into her room five minutes later. "Have you seen—?!"

"Yes," Rejoice replied hollowly.

"This is a setup! We all saw you sketch that from scratch! And that old design? It's not even from the same concept!"

"But it's enough to spark doubt," Rejoice whispered.

Zion and Malik stormed in next.

"Already spoke to Mrs. Happiness," Malik said, holding up his phone. "She's investigating."

Rejoice sat on the edge of her bed, hands trembling. "It's her. Elizabeth. She said she'd expose me."

Zion crouched in front of her. "Then we fight back. With proof. With truth."

Sonia nodded. "You're not alone in this."

And for the first time in weeks, Rejoice believed it.

But deep down, she also knew something else: The final project was no longer just about design. It was about survival.

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