August 3rd—A familiar date for Yau Han fans.
In just a week, fans had already sent countless presents to Han's team. Every year, the pile grew from a hill to a mountain, an overwhelming display of admiration. Han always appreciated the gesture, sharing photos online of the towering gifts and carefully unwrapping a few to show his gratitude.
As tradition, his team hosted a grand celebration in his honor, inviting celebrities from around the world to join the festivities. The event would be all over the news, a spectacle of flashing cameras and well-wishes.
But on the actual day? Han would finally have his moment of peace—no flashing lights, no obligations. Just the quiet comfort of home.
"The grandest birthday bash is upon us," the news host announced. "Celebrities are flying in from all over to attend Han's exclusive pre-birthday party on July 24. As always, this event is highly restricted—no interviews, no videos, and only a select number of approved photos. It's unclear whether Han invites personal friends outside the celebrity sphere, but that mystery remains unsolved."
Jet listened absentmindedly, eyes fixed on his laptop screen. He had decided to rewrite Volume 2 of his book—not a straightforward sequel, but something more personal. Instead of simply continuing the protagonist's journey, he wanted to capture what he had been experiencing lately. A dream woken up. A fated meeting. That strange, unshakable feeling of knowing someone for a lifetime despite only meeting them days ago.
He typed paragraph after paragraph, writing from his character's perspective in a way that almost resembled a diary.
Eventually, he closed the laptop and wandered to the kitchen, fixing himself a simple lunch—bread with peanut butter. As he ate, he scrolled through memes on his phone, but no matter where he looked, one name seemed to keep appearing: Yau Han.
It wasn't the algorithm's fault; he was the one who kept searching. Trying to piece together more about this actor. Yet, beyond the headlines and fan speculation, there wasn't much real information.
The biggest trending topic was, of course, Han's birthday party. Conspiracy theories ran wild—some claiming the event was a secret society gathering, others speculating on how to get an invite. Jet raised a brow but didn't bother diving too deep.
His focus shifted to the neatly wrapped box sitting nearby. He hadn't planned on wrapping Han's gift himself—there was no need. The luxurious brand had already packaged it elegantly, complete with a ribbon and a discreet logo.
From what he had gathered online, the brand was exclusive, known only among the wealthy, but with recent sales dipping, Jet had managed to snag it at a good price.
A fitting gift for the 'Enigma'. Jet scoffed at the thought.
—
"Just one night—another night," Han muttered to himself as he fastened his cufflinks.
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"You ready, Han?" Victor asked, smiling as Han opened the door.
Han turned to walk beside him. "Victor," he said, his tone blunt. "Call me Sir. It feels more normal that way."
Victor blinked before nodding quickly. "Yes, Sir…" he mumbled, then hesitated. "But didn't that guy you invited call you Han?"
Han didn't answer immediately. His expression was unreadable. "Off-topic," he said smoothly. "What did you want to ask?"
Victor cleared his throat. "The director wants to meet with you next week. Your schedule is packed, but do you want me to move anything around?"
Han slid into the car, shaking his head. "Not for now but I'll see." He shut the door before Victor could say anything else.
As the car pulled away, Victor's fingers clenched around his tablet. His polite mask slipped, revealing a bitter scowl.
"Yeah, 'I'll see'—and then you'll go rearrange everything for your Alpha boyfriend again." His grip tightened. "Alphas don't belong together. Yau Han, you're meant for me. I'll make sure of it."
Behind him, June stood by the doorway, watching the scene unfold before turning back inside.
"Livia," she called out, her voice hushed. "I think we might have a problem."
Livia, who was casually sipping tea, raised a brow. "Let me guess. The new guy?"
June nodded. "Yeah. I just saw him staring after Sir Han like he's about to commit a crime."
Livia sighed, tapping her fingers against the counter. "Honestly, I had a bad feeling about him. Something about him is just... off."
"But the bigger problem?" June leaned in. "What if he tries to sabotage the Alpha?"
"Jet?" Livia blinked, then gasped. "That would be bad. This house is finally starting to feel alive again because of him!"
June gave her a pointed look. "Are you shipping them?"
Livia huffed, crossing her arms. "Listen, I've never seen Sir Han look at anyone like that before. If that's not love, then what else could it be?"
June shrugged. "I just hope nothing bad happens. This house feels so empty—I want a little one to play with!"
Livia burst into laughter. "Your expectations are even higher than mine!"
—
"Melon! No!" Jet yelled, gripping the broom as he stared at the mess in front of him. "Girl, I just refilled your sand bath this morning, and now it's all over the floor!"
Melon, perched beside the overturned bowl, blinked up at him innocently. What had started as a peaceful cleaning session had quickly turned chaotic. She had pushed the bowl little by little until it tumbled over the coffee table, spilling sand everywhere.
Jet sighed, scooping her up along with Peach, who had been quietly watching the disaster unfold. "At least nothing worse happened," he muttered, shaking his head. "But can we not be so rough next time?"
Melon's big round eyes stared up at him, as if she actually understood his words.
Kneeling down, Jet tried to salvage the mess, gathering as much sand as possible back into the bowl before sweeping away the excess. "Luckily, Peach had already finished before you," he added with a small chuckle. "Now, stay put while I clean up the rest."
Melon and Peach exchanged a look, their little noses twitching. Then, without hesitation, they scurried toward their shared bed and curled up together for a nap.
Jet let out a breath of relief, but just as he was about to sit down—
"…Oi! Where did you both go now?"
Panic surged through him as he searched the room, eyes darting over every surface. It was already past 9 p.m., the only light coming from the lamp by his sofa, casting a warm glow across the studio. He checked under the table, behind the couch, and around the cage—nothing.
Then, he heard soft muffles from the coffee table.
Jet leaned in and finally spotted them, nestled peacefully in a cozy spot. His tense shoulders relaxed, and he let out a quiet laugh.
'What would I even do without you two?' he thought.
Shaking his head, he carefully put their home back together and returned them to their cage.
"Alright, let's watch something," he said, turning on the TV.
With a drink in hand and a comfortable seat on the sofa, the rest of the night passed in quiet peace. The warmth of the movie and the soft company of his pets lulled him into a drowsy calm, a small smile lingering on his lips as he drifted off.
Meanwhile, across the city, Han returned home, exhausted.
The party had been bigger than last year's, filled with new faces and empty conversations. He had never been the type to enjoy socializing, but for his company's sake, he had no choice.
At least, in a few days, he'd finally have his actual birthday to himself. A day where he wouldn't have to entertain, smile, or pretend to enjoy the grandeur others had arranged for him.
—
"When are you free?" Jet texted Han the next afternoon.
"Not these days. I have to meet the new crew on set," Han replied. "Why?"
Jet hesitated before typing, not wanting to give anything away. "Nothing much, just wanted to see you."
"Miss me that much already?" Han teased. "I'll find the time."
Jet smirked at the message before setting his phone aside, feeling lighter. As he returned to his work, Han already had the perfect moment in mind.
"Your birthday?" Jet typed in disbelief, staring at the message.
"I'm only free then. I'm not going to be around much after," Han replied.
Jet sighed, reluctantly agreeing to the meet-up. He hadn't expected to give Han's gift on the actual day, but maybe that made it more special.
Meanwhile, Han leaned back against the car seat, watching the city lights blur past.
"How long will you be outstation, sir?" Victor asked, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. "Never thought your first few scenes would be shot overseas in Qintara! Have you been there before?"
"A few weeks, then I'll be back to shoot more. I'm not the main character of this adaptation, so my parts won't take too long. But there are other things I still need to do."
Victor kept his eyes on the road but stole a few glances at Han. The actor didn't say much after that, his mind already elsewhere.
Soon, they arrived at the set. Han stepped out, slipping on his sunglasses before heading inside. The atmosphere was lively—new actors chatting, crew members running around finalizing details. After a quick round of greetings, Han joined the group, casually discussing the story with the other actors.
The introduction was smooth, and before long, a few interviewers arrived, eager to capture the buzz of the upcoming film. Han answered questions with his usual calm demeanor, occasionally glancing at his phone when he had the chance.
It was a fun day—one filled with excitement and anticipation. Soon, they would all be flying to another country to begin filming.
But in the back of Han's mind, something lingered. The thought of his birthday. Of Jet. Of meeting him again.