Evening slid over Abuja like a soft silk scarf, warm and glowing, as if the entire city had been waiting for this one moment—the grand concert night of the All Stars Inter Scholastic Festival. The air carried a different kind of excitement, not the anxious buzz of competitions or the tension of academic rounds, but a lazy, delicious anticipation. It was the kind of feeling that comes after a long day of winning, losing, learning, connecting, and simply breathing. 🌙✨
And for AllStars Foundation College, the day had been nothing short of legendary.
AraBaddie's mom's biodegradable packaging showcase had gone viral within hours, three companies already contacting them for partnerships. 🌱📦
Khadijat, quiet yet terrifyingly brilliant, shocked everyone by securing not one but two international scholarships before noon.
Peace received a media honor titled The Voice of the Next Generation—a huge step toward her dream of building Africa's biggest youth focused broadcast network. 🎙️📺
Gift was randomly scouted for a modeling gig so surprising she screamed non stop for ten minutes.
And BigDave? He had represented AllStars in so many competitions that students, judges, and staff began calling him the school's whole CV in human form. 💪🏆
But nothing...and absolutely nothing was louder than the whispers about MideFlex.
The boy who had caught the attention of Alexei Oluwamirenko, the Nigerian–Russian–French artistic legend whose name shaped entire creative industries. The news spread like perfume in a busy mall—fast, sweet, impossible to ignore. 🔥✨
Now, as night descended fully, the open air concert venue flickered awake. Rows of floating golden lanterns hung above the massive outdoor field, glowing like moons. The stage shimmered with black glass flooring, reflecting everything—lights, movement, dreams. LED arcs curved across the platform like celestial rings. Mist drifted lazily in the air, wrapping the night in a soft, magical haze. 🎤🌙💫
One by one, the schools entered the arena. Not in uniforms, but in their real identities—outfits that carried their personalities, with only their school badges pinned somewhere visible.
Royal Academy arrived first—clean, sharp, expensive. They looked like models stepping into a Vogue afterparty. Every hair strand obeyed. Every step was a statement. 💎🕴️
Glory Heights International followed, phones raised, recording cinematic slow motion entries. Their outfits were trendy, aesthetic, effortlessly photogenic. Show up in one of their videos and boom💥10k followers. 📸✨
Crownfield Academy came next, calm and intellectual. Soft fabrics, muted colors, Lagos confidence—the kind that doesn't shout but overpowers everything quietly. 📚🌙
Then Scholars' Domain High from Ghana—dramatic, theatrical, entering like someone yelled "ACTION!" Capes, exaggerated accessories, bold hairstyles. They didn't walk in. They performed. 🎭🔥
Nairobi Elite Academy arrived with bright smiles and harmonies. Their casuals were soft, pastel, gentle but their aura was loud. Kenya's finest singers. 🎶🌼
Springfield International danced in literally already doing the latest TikTok trend. Fast, chaotic energy, multicolored outfits, infectious laughter. 📱🎵💃
AlphaGate Academy strolled in with their chess bro vibe—glasses, neat haircuts, graphic shirts filled with jokes only AI could solve. ♟️🤓
St. Helena's College from Accra stepped in politely first matching jackets, soft smiles until someone teased them. Then the wild side erupted on the spot. 😂🔥
Queensland Heights arrived like thunder; sporty, loud, chaotic, jerseys and crop tops everywhere. They walked like the entire school had studied hype culture. 🏅💛
Finally, AllStars Foundation College.
Their entrance wasn't loud or dramatic, but it carried a softness that made people look twice. Casuals. Badges. Tired smiles. Victorious eyes. MideFlex moved with his friends, the Abuja breeze brushing past his shirt, exhaustion mixing with a rising happiness he couldn't explain. 🌬️✨
The concert lights dimmed.
A hush washed over the field.
Music began to throb softly.
The night officially began.
The hosts stepped onto the black glass stage, silhouettes glowing silver. The students roared, whistles and laughter mixing under the stars. 🎤🔥
This wasn't a night to win anything.
Not about proving anything.
It was a night to live. To scream. To dance. To forget. To breathe.
But one thought hovered above everyone's head like a shining crown—
✨ Studlist 3.0 ✨
A once in a year honor awarded to the school that showed excellence, unity, influence, presence, and creativity throughout the festival.
Every school wanted it.
Every student prayed for it.
Even teachers pretended they didn't care (they cared with their whole chest). 😂
The lights suddenly burst into gold.
BOOM💥bass dropped.
Laser beams sliced through the night.
Three silhouettes walked out slowly, dripping authority.
⭐ ZETACIRCLE 3 had entered.
Zayn Afolabi of Crownfield—military raised, calm, terrifyingly powerful. Founder of ZETACIRCLE. A king who didn't shout; he breathed and the room shifted. Gold rim glasses. Cold drip. Silent luxury. ✨🔥
Zad Okoye of Royal Academy—prodigy, calculating mind, scholarship winner who refused to leave his day ones. Ice to Zayn's fire. Logic in human form. 👓❄️
NancyPie of Scholars' Domain—pretty, brilliant, dangerous. ZETACIRCLE's admin. Walks like a model, thinks like a billionaire. Her softness was a disguise. 💋⚡
Zayn lifted a single hand.
Silence swallowed the entire field.
"Crownfield in the buildingggggg??"
Thunder shook the sky.
"Royal Academy, scream loudddddd!"
The crowd lost control.
"Scholars' Domain,where are weeeeeee??"
Nancy's voice was sweet… too sweet.
The crowd chanted her name like a prayer.
Then Zad stepped forward:
"Welcome to ZETA NIGHT—where vibes are sponsored by power."
Zayn smirked.
"This isn't your regular school jam. This is what happens when kingdoms come together to shut the world up."
NancyPie tilted her head.
"Tonight, you will laugh, scream, dance… but more importantly? Compete. Because only one of us will walk away with the Studlist 3.0 crown."
Gasps. Screams. Phones up.
Zad: "Talent. Drip. Responsibility. Influence. Bring it."
Zayn: "Don't beg for votes. Earn it."
NancyPie: "The concert begins NOW."
Music exploded again.
And then the whispers started—
"We are voting?"
"HOW?"
"My crush is winning tonight oh!"
"AllStars boys are too fine abeg."
"Let this concert chokeeee!"
A link dropped in the private ZETACIRCLE group
Nominate your Studlist 3.0 winner.
But only members had access.
Not everyone was in the group.
So…
How would they get the link?
How would they vote?
What would happen next?
The night had only just begun. 🌙🔥🎤✨