Everyone in the hall had reached a fever pitch of excitent.
People were jockeying for the best vantage points, all eager for the big reveal of who had donated the most.
"Cough, cough—everyone, settle down! Let speak," the host said, motioning insistently with his hand, as if struggling to calm the crowd.
"Shut the hell up!"
"Yeah, enough with the bullshit!"
"Just announce the na already!"
Suddenly, boos and hisses echoed through the entire auditorium.
"No, no—listen up, everyone. The top donor...doesn't have a na!" The host, realizing that if he didn't say sothing soon, the whole place might riot, hurriedly blurted out.
"No na? What do you an?"
"What is this host even talking about?"
"Jesus Christ, who hired this guy? Even pigs could do a better job—nobody's naless!"
The host saw the mounting impatience in the crowd and quickly added, "You've got it wrong—you misunderstood. It's not that this person literally has no na. They gave anonymously, so none of us know who they are!"
"Wait—what?!"
That single line did more to quiet the crowd than a dozen rounds of "Quiet!" ever could. Almost instantly, the hall fell silent.
"Anonymous donation?!" soone whispered.
"No way—that's for real? Soone dropped eighty thousand bucks and didn't even bother to sign their na? This rich bastard's got style!"
"Seriously, so low-key. He's passing up such a perfect chance to show off. Clearly, he's a legit fat cat who's tired of flaunting it—just wants to stay under the radar."
That was the boys' chatter.
"Wow—this mystery donor is so intriguing. I'm totally obsessed!"
"To do good and not take credit—it's humility at its finest. Like a true gentleman of noble blood. Ugh, when will I ever et a prince like that?"
That was the girls' conversation.
For a mont, the entire audience was utterly captivated by this anonymous top donor.
"Mr. or Ms. Anonymous, are you here with us today? Are you?"
Suddenly, the host grabbed the microphone again and shouted. Everyone, hearing that, obediently fell silent. The host called out multiple tis, but no one ca forward. Disappointnt settled over the crowd.
"Looks like this generous soul really wants to stay hidden. They won't be coming out," the host sighed, and moved on to the next part of the program. "Now, could the twenty people who donated over ten thousand, as well as the other three hundred-plus folks who gave over one thousand, please co up on stage? Let's give them a big round of applause—and we're going to take a group photo!"
He added, "Oh, and each donor who cos up can bring their most beloved person along with them! We want the person closest to you here in this unforgettable mont!"
With that, people began to stream toward the stage—so with boyfriends or girlfriends, others coming alone (after all, single people are everywhere).
"Baby, we've got to go up, too—co on, let's go!" Sylvia said, her face shining with happiness as she shook Tanner vigorously.
"Jasmine, I really believe that no matter how beautiful your dress is, it's nothing compared to kindness in your heart. Real wealthy people give back. I hope you won't chase vanity—stay down to earth."
Sylvia felt smug inside—finally, she'd triumphed over Jasmine. After all, how could a poor girl asure up to soone like her, born into money? Grinning, she linked arms with Tanner and headed for the stage.
People instinctively made way for those going up, granting them an aisle all to themselves.
Sylvia and Tanner walked down that path as the crowd applauded nonstop, almost like they were celebrities.
Once they reached the stage, Sylvia tugged Tanner toward the center, angling for maximum exposure. She was nothing if not calculating. Raising her chin, she waved vigorously and bead, as though she'd never been happier in her life—she knew Jasmine was watching from below.
"Excuse , miss—please scoot over a bit," the host called out, stepping to the center of the stage and addressing the pair standing in the middle.
"Why should we move?" Sylvia demanded, clearly annoyed.
"Just shift to the side to leave one spot in the center," the host explained loudly, holding the microphone for emphasis. "Everyone knows our top donor is a very modest person. Though they prefer to remain anonymous, we can't forget their generosity and the impact of their contribution."
"So we've decided to keep that very center spot empty—it symbolizes where they stand. Everyone good with that?"
"Absolutely!"
"This is so moving!"
"Right—it's our way of honoring them!"
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. Sylvia, hearing this, grudgingly stepped to the side to free up that central spot.
"All right, everyone, get into position. Our photographer is ready—say cheese in three, two, one..." The host quickly shuffled to the side to make way, and the hall went silent out of respect.
But just then, Grayson felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around without thinking, only to see a boy and a girl he didn't recognize standing behind him.
"What's up?" Grayson asked, puzzled.
"It's him—he really is him!" the girl shouted, pointing at Grayson, her eyes wide, as though she were seeing her idol in person. Normally, the stage photo would've started by then, and the hall was quiet, so her loud exclamation caught everyone off guard. Heads snapped around, glaring at her in disapproval, as if to say, "You idiot, how dare you speak out now? Can't you see this mont matters?"
The girl, flustered by all the angry stares, pressed on, pointing at Grayson. "It is him—he's the one who donated eighty thousand dollars!"
That announcent sent the hall into an uproar. In an instant, people were buzzing, and so even surged toward Grayson.
"Wow—it's really him, and not bad-looking either!"
"Hold on a sec—how can we be sure it's him?"
As everyone whispered and wondered, the host pushed through the crowd and knelt before Grayson.
"Are you sure?" he asked the girl.
"Absolutely, I'm positive!" she said, nodding vigorously. "We were stationed by the soccer field with our donation booth. That handso guy ca over—we thought he'd give a few dozen dollars at most. Instead, he just pulled out eighty thousand all at once. We were stunned!"
"It's him," the boy added with conviction. "We were volunteering, and we saw him. We know he didn't write his na—he just handed over the money and left."
The host knew these two were official volunteers. They wouldn't lie.
"That's incredible!" he exclaid, excitent lighting his face. Grabbing Grayson's hand, the host practically dragged him up onto the stage. All eyes tracked them the whole way.
"Now, ladies and gentlen, I hereby announce that our top donor is none other than this fine young man right here! Does anyone have anything to say to him?" the host called out, pointing the mic toward the audience.
Instantly, cheers erupted:
"Epic!"
"Rich guy!"
"So low-key, too!"
"I love you!" shouted a girl from the crowd. More girls chid in, their voices filling the hall.
The host then asked Grayson's na again, and guided him to stand in the very center—the spot that had been held open.
"This spot has always belonged to our own Grayson Cole. Today, it's finally been claid by its rightful owner!" the host declared with passion, rekindling the excitent.
"Please, Mr. Cole," he said with a respectful gesture, inviting Grayson to take that center position. By now, Sylvia and Tanner were standing awkwardly to one side. Both of them looked stunned—especially Sylvia, who had been sure she'd be center stage. Suddenly, she could feel her face burning as all eyes locked onto Grayson. The closer you stood to him, the more uncomfortable you felt—because everyone's attention was riveted on Grayson.
"Could I have a mont?" Grayson said, surprising everyone once more. At the sound of his voice, the hall quieted again.
"I heard that I can bring soone special with to stand on stage—is that right?" Grayson asked the host, a playful smile on his face.
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