"All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again."
— J.M. Barrie

Familiar. The sounds were so familiar. 

With an anxious beating in my chest, I sat and studied the buzzing crowd. My best sidekick in the entire world, Laina, was to my right. It felt complete with her here. Granted, we weren't in the front row this time, but we still had a crisp, clear view of the decorated stage before us. The event hadn't even begun yet, and already, the excitement in the air was almost palpable.

My eager ears welcomed the low hum of the masses, as I gazed around, trying to spot him.

"This is just like old times!" Laina squealed and hugged me for the fifth time... in a span of ten minutes.

"Why don't you ever hug me that much?" Wes asked his girlfriend, with a playful poke to her ribs.

"Shush, you!" Laina peered at him. For the most part, it was in affection. "I'm making up for lost time!"

My best friend's arms remained wrapped around me, tight as could be. Oh, how I had missed her. As of late, Laina had been engrossed—happily so—in the ventures of opening her very own restaurant. Because of that, this reunion was a long time coming. Still, it largely felt as though no time had passed at all. The last handful of years had been a blur, seeming to have raced away with a single intake of breath.

"So, your mom is handling everything for tomorrow?" Laina stepped back, to look into my eyes.

"I think so." I huffed. "She's meeting with the photographer right now, and Adam's picking up some things from the dry cleaners. He should've been here by now."

My eye darted from my watch, to the floor, to the stage, and back again.

"Brooke, you're probably more nervous than my brother," Liz said with a grin. 

I turned to my left, to smirk at her.

"I know, I know." I closed my eyes, and tried to better control the speed at which my chest was expanding and contracting. "I bet Julian is just excited to be back on stage again."

"Breathe, Brooke," Tommy said, from his seat next to Wes. "He's going to do great."

Tommy looped an arm around Gina and they both offered me a soothing smile.

"He's right," Jesse agreed. "And hey, that's your step dad right there, isn't it?"

Jesse pointed to Adam, who was standing by the arena doors to our right. One hand was cupped over his angular brows, trying to spot us.

While trying to stay calm, I motioned toward him, before Laina burst out, "RIGHT HERE, ADAM!"

She jumped up and down, waving her arms around like a complete maniac.

As if we weren't already getting enough attention.

Adam ran over to claim his reserved seat next to Liz. My step dad's career had proved to offer some perks after all. With a bit of finagling the day before, we were all able to score seats at the back of the floor, instead of in the risers with the rest of the audience.

"Sorry I'm late." Adam rushed the words, just as the music hit.

Slowly, a line of people—clad in black robes—began passing by us. I kept my eyes moving around and between them, searching for cloth of a different color.

"Do you see him yet?" Laina whispered into my ear—well, as close to a whisper as Laina's voice could've gotten.

"No, I thought he was supposed to enter at the front of the procession," I replied, while rubbing my hands together.

"There he is!" Jesse announced, making all of us turn our attentions to the side.

Julian walked by—brisk and proud—in his distinguishable, white robe. He eyed the arena for us. His wavy, beautiful, golden-brown hair was, for the most part, hidden under a squared, white cap.

"'Ey, Miles!" Tommy yelled, with far more volume than was necessary. "Over here!'

Jesse hit Tommy's arm. "You damn idiot. Settle down."

Julian's eyes moved around and above us, until he spotted his family at last. In an instant, he locked eyes with me, as radiant pride colored his lifted cheeks a cherry red.

In swift movements, Julian made two quick circles in the air with his index finger, palm facing inward. This gesture effortlessly blended into his next movement, which consisted of only his thumb and pinky extended, in a sweeping, outward motion toward me.

I immediately recognized it as the only word in American Sign Language that I knew—endlessly.

Julian had been so worried about the requirement to take foreign language classes. That was, until he had found out that the American Sign Language courses would meet the same criteria. In such a short time, Jules had become an impressive, fluent signer.

It was the only natural choice for him, he'd told me, since it was the only language in the world where you could show someone, instead of tell them. Plus, it kept his rough hands busy when they weren't strumming his trusty Ibanez. He could never stay away from his guitar for very long.

Much to my joy and relief, some things never changed.

Julian strode down the middle aisle. Instead of taking a seat on the floor, he walked up onto the stage. There, his special chair awaited him. He took it in silence, while the rest of that year's class filed in.

"Look, Brooke!" Laina pointed inside the program. "It even has his name on the second page!"

I glanced over to find that she was right.

"I hope he's not too nervous," I said to no one in particular.

"This is a decent crowd," Tommy reached over to rub my shoulder, "but it's no Wembley. He's plenty used to this."

The music halted. A robed woman, toward the front, motioned for all of us to stand. All fell quiet when a stout, distinguished, older man took the podium. He bumped the microphone by accident and stroked his bushy, white beard in a restless fashion before speaking.

"Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Chancellor Esme, I am thrilled to welcome you all to the ninety-ninth commencement ceremony of Crestone College."

Roaring applause echoed against every inch of wall in the building. It was now at full capacity.

"I, Vice Chancellor John Patricks, would like to extend a warm thank you to all graduands, family members, friends, faculty, staff, and trustees for attending today. Please, everyone have a seat. Make yourselves comfortable."

Just as he asked, we all plopped down. When the sounds of squeaking chairs subsided, he went on.

"Graduands, we are all here to recognize and celebrate your incredible achievements. I can speak for all of the academic faculty when I say how excited we are to bestow upon you an ultimate marker of success at Crestone College—that being the bachelor's degree."

The students began clapping, causing the whole crowd to join in with them.

"This degree is an indicator of your accomplishments, and a symbol of credentials in your chosen fields. Graduands, you are all deserving of this for the dedication you have shown over your years of study, but perhaps none more than the two students seated on either side of me."

Julian shifted in his seat, sitting taller, if only infinitesimally. My heart swelled at the sight.

"To my right, with a flawless GPA of 4.0, is your valedictorian, Imogen Audrina. Her contributions to the science program are changing the way chemistry and biology are being taught at Crestone. Please, give this incredible young lady a very well deserved round of applause."

The crowd replied in a bellow of thunderous cheering.

"And it is my absolute pleasure to introduce your salutatorian. He has equally impressed us by being the only student to graduate this year with a GPA of 3.99. Yes, you heard that correctly—it was a close one!"

I took in a sharp breath.

"But he had plenty to be proud of before these academic achievements. As a world renowned musician, this young man is no stranger to standing before large crowds, such as the one we have here today. As such, at our request, he's prepared a little something to share with you all. So, without any further ado, here to deliver his salutatory address is Mr. Julian Miles!"

"YEAH, MILES!" Tommy half-stood to yell, while it was still quiet. Following Tommy's outburst, there was a domino effect of clapping and raucous shouting.

Julian nodded at the audience in appreciation and acknowledgement before taking the podium. Within a few moments, it was quiet again—enough to hear him clear his throat.

"Thank you, everyone. I'm going to keep this speech short and sweet, for two reasons." Julian looked toward the general area of our seats at the back. Although it was unlikely that he could've seen us from where he stood, I still blew him a kiss.

"The first reason is because, even though I dual-majored in Music Theory and Literary Studies, I'm sort of terrible with words." Julian chuckled to himself. "Reading words is simple. Arranging them in such a way that conveys exactly what you're thinking, however, is quite a bit trickier."

Low murmurs of the crowd denoted agreement.

"The second reason, and far more importantly, is that I'm marrying my gorgeous fiancée tomorrow. All of my pitiful writing efforts have gone toward penning my vows to her, so I'll spare you most of the ugly leftovers of my decision to burn the midnight oil."

The soft chuckles and softer awwws of the crowd were mostly lost on me, as my heart ricocheted around my ribcage.

"Tomorrow, for me, personally, there will be plenty of tears flowing, so I won't bore you to them now," Julian said. "I won't stand here and speak about our journey through academia, because there is no such thing as one single journey. All of us meeting at the same university does not take away from the completely different paths we have each traveled to arrive here."

Everyone remained silent, without so much as a distracting cough or sneeze to interrupt him.

"I won't use dull, generic terms that impart nothing of significance. I refuse to make promises about the future, or encourage you to keep striving for greatness, without really explaining what that entails."

Julian shifted his feet, as his eyes continued to scan the audience.

"What I will do, instead, is speak about Crestone's slogan: Forever Forward."

The soft strands of Julian's tassel swayed back and forth, grazing his cheek, as he spoke animatedly.

"I truly believe the faculty that first created this tagline had the best of intentions in mind. It's catchy. It's motivating. It's uplifting, even. But it's awful advice, and I'll tell you exactly why it is."

The audience mumbled and whispered. After allowing a few moments of this, Julian continued his speech.

"I admit, it's true—life doesn't wait for you. You cannot press pause whenever it's convenient to do so. Time keeps moving ahead. So, we must be moving forward with it, mustn't we? But I've learned we also must always look behind us. Our pasts are storied and rich. Our pasts are full of hindrances and victories. Good or bad, and whether or not we want to admit it, our pasts follow us."

Heat swirled around my face.

"More importantly, however, we must remember that our unique pasts have sculpted us. We are the specific individuals that we are today, because of our histories. So, I say to you here—regardless of where we're heading, we must never forget from where we've come. I'd like to add onto our school's slogan by saying, go forever forward, but remember to reflect."

I glanced over at Laina. For a moment, I thought I saw her eyes glistening.

"We all have worthy stories. Each and every person here has a tale to tell, that's never been told before. It's up to you to tell it. Don't forget any part of your own story," Julian said seriously. "Before I conclude this address, I want to share one important thing I've learned during my time here, studying literature at Crestone. That is, as much as I dislike them sometimes, words are undeniably powerful. We all have a choice in which words we use, and it's crucial to always say exactly what we mean."

Julian paused, looked down at his notes, then took a deep breath.

"We are all leaving here today and venturing off in directions as unique as the paths that brought us all together in the first place. And whilst it will seem like a farewell, it's actually not. Farewell isn't really what we mean. This is simply another part of our story, and if we remember to reflect, we can relive it as often as we wish. That way, stories never have to end."

Laina and Liz both reached for my hands to hold them. I looked on in wonder, feeling overjoyed for all that he was—all that he had been, and all that he'd become. Jules was shooting arrows at us—arrows from a soul of great fire.

"No, leaving here is not equivalent to a farewell. Someone very important to me once said that farewells are permanent. The word goodbye is powerful. It indicates a finality with no hope for continuation. But, goodnight," Julian gazed toward our seating section, "goodnight means there's always a tomorrow."

I swallowed hard and blinked back the threats to my mascara.

"And that is what I wish for all of you—an endless supply of tomorrows. So, when you're leaving here today and thanking those who have helped you reach this milestone, remember to always say goodnight." Julian paused. "Never goodbye."

He nodded once, bowing his head. "Thank you. And congratulations, everyone."

Julian stepped down from the podium as everyone rose to their feet. Cheers, like I had never heard before, pierced through the air. I had never before felt so proud of my soulmate.

Tommy may have been correct earlier—this rented arena was no Wembley Stadium. But the way my fiancé's smile lit up his entire face under the stage lights, told me that this crowd was loud enough to fan the fire in his soul once more. It was the undying soul of a performer.

Just like the first day we had met, the focus of all was entirely fixated on him—the boy with irises of a peculiar tint, and thick, furrowed brows.

Just like the first day we met, the audience clamored like thunder for him—howling, pealing, and wailing.

And, just like the first day we met, without saying a word, perhaps he could hear me over them all. Because, just maybe, I was the loudest one of them all.

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