Four years ago, Aiden wouldn’t have believed he could be on this stage, with a crowd of thousands of people waiting to hear from him. He was the keynote speaker for the conference, and the rumor was that this was the highest attendance the conference had ever achieved - due to his name, and his name alone. He had spent time carving a following with his expert knowledge on new educational techniques and research, even earning a doctorate in the field. To hear from Aiden Allen was to hear from somebody who could change things, make them happen.

He performed his normal pre-speech ritual: jumping jacks, meditation, gratitude, and a glass of water. Although this was the largest crowd he had ever seen, he was no stranger to presentations. But this one was different, and he did his normal routine twice to make himself feel a little less anxious. As he heard his name announced, he stepped from the right stage of the stage into the center, feeling the heat of the beam following him, seeing the expectant eyes in the crowd, hearing the screaming and clapping. He waved as he walked and stood at the podium, grabbing the microphone.

“In education eight years ago today,” he started, an opening statistic that he was particularly proud of, “we found that…”

Jonah was in the audience. Right there, in the front. The man he had dated for seven months in a whirlwind romance that ended in sadness and regret. The man who had told him he could never be this - a public speaker. The man who had told him he would never draw audiences because what he was researching and saying did not matter, and that nobody cared. The same man who told him to leave the education field because he could get paid more elsewhere.

It happened in a split second. He saw Jonah, registered these thoughts, felt his heart plummet to his feet and his confidence leave him, but continued with the statistic after a very brief pause. The audience thought it was for dramatic effect, and it worked in his favor.

“Tonight, we prove that statistic wrong. We learn what it is to be the best teacher, the best principal, the best superintendent. We learn how to master the field for our students, and for ourselves.”

The audience clapped, Jonah included. There was a faint smile on his face, as if he knew he was there for the sole purpose of making Aiden uncomfortable.

“We do that, by being true to ourselves. To not letting anyone tell us different. Not letting anyone tell us who we are. We know who we are, and we need people in the field like that.” The audience roared as Aiden walked across the stage, microphone in hand. He made eye contact with Jonah and feigned a wink.

“The best leader in education is one that has been brought down, and one that has had to bring themselves back up. They can relate to these students we’re seeing in our schools nowadays, and be a beacon of hope for them!” More applause.

By the time Aiden was done, Jonah had left the auditorium. He missed the standing ovation.