Welcome To Hawthorne
Country: Aurivelle
City: Auremont
The lady who had ushered us in smiled politely and gestured toward the black lacquered boxes placed neatly in front of each of us.
“Please go ahead,” she said warmly.
“Open your gifts and check your room numbers.”
For a moment, no one moved.
It felt strangely ceremonial, like we were about to open something much bigger than a simple welcome package.
I glanced sideways at Isabella.
Her eyes were bright with excitement, the kind she usually tried to hide but never quite succeeded at.
I knew my own expression probably looked exactly the same.
My fingers hovered over the thin silver ribbon tied neatly around the box.
It shimmered slightly under the overhead lights.
Why am I nervous?
I let out a quiet breath and finally untied it, the ribbon slipping smoothly into my hand.
Then I lifted the lid.
Inside, everything was arranged with careful precision.
And for a moment, all I could do was stare.
“Wow…” I whispered under my breath.
The first thing I noticed was the notebook.
Soft leather.
Ivory-colored.
Elegant but simple.
My fingers brushed across the cover, and my heart skipped when I saw the gold foil lettering pressed perfectly into the surface.
A.D.
My initials.
How were they able to do that!
I slowly opened it, running my thumb along the thick cream pages.
The paper felt expensive…smooth, almost silky.
The kind of notebook you wouldn’t want to ruin with messy sketches.
The kind that made you want to draw something worthy of it.
Next to it rested a matching pen.
Black with thin silver accents.
I picked it up, turning it slowly between my fingers.
Engraved along the side were the words:
Hawthorne Luxury Fashion Institute.
Something about seeing those words so close…so real…sent a strange warmth through my chest.
I placed the pen back carefully, almost reverently.
Then my eyes fell on something slim tucked into the velvet lining.
The keycard.
Black, like polished obsidian.
Silver edges.
Minimalistic.
Elegant.
At the top corner, engraved clearly, was a number.
12.
My heart gave a small jump.
Room twelve.
So this… this was mine.
For a moment, I just held the card between my fingers, staring at it like it might disappear if I blinked too quickly.
Beside me,Isabella suddenly squealed softly.
I looked at her immediately.
Her hands were clasped over her mouth, eyes wide.
“Oh my God…look at this!” she whispered excitedly.
She pulled out her handbook, hugging it to her chest like someone had just handed her a treasure.
“My initials!” she said dramatically.
I laughed.
“Of course your initials are there,” I teased.
“Did you think they’d accidentally write someone else’s name?”
She ignored me completely, still admiring everything inside her box.
“What’s your room number?” I asked.
She flipped over her keycard and checked.
“Fifteen,” she said.
I nodded thoughtfully.
“Not too far.”
“Good,” she said instantly. “Because I refuse to live on the other side of the building from you.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled.
The lady at the front of the room continued speaking while we finished examining our gifts.
“The male and female students will be staying in separate residential wings,” she explained. “Your rooms have already been prepared. Housekeeping will be available throughout the week if you need anything.”
Everything about the way she spoke sounded calm and efficient.
Like this level of luxury was completely normal.
Meanwhile, my brain was still stuck on the fact that I was actually here.
“Please follow us,” another staff member said gently.
We gathered our things and followed the ladies out of the room.
The hallway stretched ahead of us, wide and polished.
Sunlight streamed through tall glass windows along one side, pouring warm gold across the marble floors.
The light made everything glow.
The walls.
The handrails.
Even the quiet artwork framed along the corridor.
It felt peaceful.
Almost like the building itself knew we were nervous and was trying to reassure us.
You belong here.
At least… that’s how it felt.
Eventually we reached a long corridor lined with doors.
Each one sleek and identical.
My eyes drifted along the numbers until…
12.
There it was.
My room.
I stopped walking.
For a second, I just stared at the door.
Isabella bumped lightly into my shoulder.
“Well?” she said.
I swallowed.
Then I stepped forward.
My hand hovered over the card reader for a moment before I finally slid the keycard through.
The machine blinked green.
Click.
The door unlocked.
I pushed it open slowly.
And stepped inside.
Then I froze.
The room was… stunning.
Not flashy.
Not overly decorated.
Just… perfect.
A large plush bed sat in the center, layered with soft cream sheets and a light gold throw blanket draped across the bottom.
The pillows looked so comfortable I almost wanted to collapse into them immediately.
Soft neutral colors filled the space…warm beige walls, pale wood furniture, subtle gold accents that caught the sunlight.
A sleek desk stood beside the window.
Sunlight streamed through sheer curtains, spilling across the surface and making the polished wood glow.
I walked inside slowly.
My bag slipped from my shoulder and landed softly on the floor, but I barely noticed.
My hand ran along the edge of the desk.
The chair.
The smooth wooden surface.
Everything felt solid.
Real.
This is mine.
I walked over to the window and looked outside.
The courtyard stretched below…green lawns, small trees, elegant pathways weaving through the campus.
Students were already walking around outside, some exploring, some talking excitedly.
I leaned against the wall quietly.
Just breathing.
Just taking it in.
This is really happening.
I’m actually here.
“Alvara!”
Isabella’s voice echoed down the hallway.
“Come see mine!”
I laughed softly.
“Give me a minute!” I called back.
Because I wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
I wanted to absorb every detail.
Every corner.
Every little moment of this beginning.
Eventually curiosity got the better of me.
I walked over to the small counter near the desk.
That’s when I noticed it.
The mini fridge.
Sleek.
Black.
Tucked neatly beneath the counter like it had always belonged there.
Curiosity immediately won.
I opened it.
Inside, everything was arranged almost perfectly.
Granola bars.
Trail mix.
Packets of chips.
Tiny chocolate bars stacked neatly beside a row of truffles.
Drinks lined the back…sparkling water, soda cans, fruit juices.
Bottled water.
Little yogurt cups.
Mini pastries.
Cookies.
Gummy candies.
Even fresh fruit.
Apples.
Grapes.
Oranges.
I blinked slowly.
This… is a mini grocery store.
A memory from the handbook surfaced in my mind.
Fridge contents will be refilled every Saturday morning.
Every Saturday?
I laughed quietly.
“They really thought of everything,” I murmured.
Isabella appeared at my door a moment later.
“What are you doing?”
“Come see this,” I said.
She stepped inside and leaned over my shoulder when I opened the fridge again.
Her eyes widened instantly.
“No way.”
“Yes,” I said.
She grabbed a chocolate bar and examined it like it was a priceless artifact.
“Alvara,” she whispered dramatically, “we have officially upgraded our lives.”
I snorted.
“Just a little.”
We eventually left the room to explore the rest of the building.
Our footsteps echoed softly as we wandered through the institute.
We peeked into classrooms.
Some were filled with mannequins wearing unfinished designs.
Others had rows of large worktables covered with sewing tools and measuring tapes.
Shelves lined with fabric rolls in every imaginable color.
Sewing machines.
Sketch stations.
Paint supplies.
Everywhere I looked, inspiration seemed to exist.
My chest tightened slightly.
This is where we’ll work.
This is where we’ll learn.
This is where everything changes.
Isabella nudged me gently as we passed a large window overlooking the courtyard.
“Can you believe we’re actually here?” she said quietly.
I shook my head slowly.
“No,” I admitted.
“I really can’t.”
For a moment we just stood there in silence.
Then we kept walking.
Eventually we found the refectory.
Warm light glowed from inside.
The moment we stepped through the doors, the smell of food wrapped around us like a hug.
I glanced at my wrist watch.
7:00 PM.
Perfect timing.
Round tables with four chairs each were arranged neatly across the room.
Plates gleamed under the soft lighting.
Some students were already seated, chatting quietly as they introduced themselves.
Just as we sat one of the chefs brought our food.
Herb-crusted salmon.
Lemon butter pasta.
Grilled zucchini and squash.
Sparkling water.
I raised my eyebrows.
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“This place might ruin normal food for me forever.”
Isabella laughed.
I took a bite of the salmon.
Perfectly cooked.
My stomach did a little happy flip.
Across the table, Isabella looked just as stunned.
“This is insane,” she whispered.
“Completely insane.”
I nodded slowly, glancing around the elegant dining hall.
Thinking about everything that had happened.
Cressford.
The competition.
The waiting.
The results.
The journey.
And now this.
From a small town…
to Hawthorne Luxury Fashion Institute.
I exhaled softly.
Still barely believing it.
But one thing was certain.
We were here.
And this felt like the beginning of everything.