August 7th, 2025
Hollywood, Los Angeles - 11:43 AM
Afternoon warmth clung to the streets like a hazy memory, a gentle reminder that summer in California was far from over.
Inside a sleek, jet-black Cadillac Escalade cruising toward LAX. The car was being escorted by two black SUVs. One in front, one in the back. Victoria Everhart sat poised in the passenger seat, exuding her usual aura of silent elegance.
Her long legs were crossed, manicured nails tapping against her phone as her Bluetooth earpiece buzzed with her manager's voice.
"Vic, you need to listen to this," the manager insisted. "The numbers just dropped this morning. Your last two films finally crossed the billion-dollar mark in total global revenue."
Victoria responded with a nod, her crimson lips forming a faint smile. "That's good."
"Good? Victoria, it's phenomenal! But there's a slight hiccup. Madison Hart's latest drama flick raked in $750 million and it's only been three weeks. Social media's exploding. She's trending. Every day."
"They wanted to see the "soft" side of Madison in acting. So Madison delivered it flawlessly." The manager added.
There was a pause. Victoria could hear her manager shuffle through notes or tabs on a screen.
"If this keeps up, Madison might snag the top spot. Her brand's catching fire. She's younger, she's more relatable - "
"Let her have it," Victoria interrupted quietly. "I have other things on my mind."
The manager fell into an awkward silence. "You're taking a break?"
"Yes," Victoria replied, her gaze shifting toward the road. "A staycation. Somewhere quiet. South Carolina."
She ended the call with a click and placed her phone on the car's sleek dashboard. Jack, her longtime boyfriend and a dj, was driving with one hand, sunglasses shading his piercing blue eyes. He glanced at her sideways, lips twitching.
They arrived at a private terminal in LAX minutes later. Victoria's Gulfstream G650 jet, polished like glass and trimmed in white gold accents, awaited them on the runway. Her bodyguards wheeled their luggage up the ramp as Victoria and Jack ascended the stairs.
Inside, the jet's cabin was a portrait of quiet luxury - plush leather seats, mahogany paneling, and a stocked champagne bar that glistened in the ambient lighting.
Victoria sat by the window, her face barely moving as the aircraft began taxiing. Jack poured two glasses of champagne and handed one to her. She took it without a word.
Clouds rolled by as the jet rose into the atmosphere, leaving Los Angeles behind. Victoria pressed her forehead lightly against the window, staring at the endless expanse.
And in that stillness, memories returned like haunting echoes.
Two years ago.
Tokyo.
That man..
Ian...
She remembered the way his hands felt against hers, how his voice made her skin warm. The way he looked at her like she was more than just Victoria Monroe, Hollywood's leading lady. He saw her. The real her. Beneath the glamour. Beneath the pressure.
But then he chose to end.
Then he disappeared.
Just like that.
No text. No call. No note.
Only absence.
She had buried that part of her heart with a cold indifference, convincing herself that she had imagined it. That he wasn't worth the emotional expense.
But now -
Why was he still in her mind?
Why was it that when the lights dimmed, when the cameras turned off, and the silence returned, it was his face that haunted her?
A rustle beside her.
Jack.
"Hey," he said, placing his glass down and brushing his fingers against her thigh. His voice was gentle. "Vic... You okay?"
She didn't answer. She barely blinked.
"Vic," he said again, a little louder.
Nothing.
He frowned and leaned in closer. "Vic."
Still, her eyes didn't move from the clouds outside.
Jack placed his hand on her thigh again, firmer this time.
She flinched.
Victoria turned to him suddenly.
But it wasn't Jack she saw.
It...was Ian.
Smiling...
Like the Tokyo nights never ended.
"Ian..." she breathed, her voice quivering.
"How..."
Her hand reached out instinctively, trembling slightly.
Then everything shattered.
"Who the fuck is Ian, Vic?!" Jack's voice exploded like a slap in the face.
She recoiled.
The champagne glass in her hand shook.
Jack stood up, now fully agitated, his chest rising and falling with unfiltered jealousy.
"Oh! I get it. I finally fucking get it. Ian. Ian Everhart. The failed adoptive son of your parents? The one who was thrown back in the orphanage by your parents?"
Jesus Christ, Vic! Grow up! He's a nobody, for fuck sake!"
Victoria blinked, as if waking from a dream. But she didn't apologize. She didn't deny it.
Jack paced across the aisle, rubbing the back of his neck.
"That's why we're going to South Carolina?For that guy? Unbelievable!"
Silence.
Victoria turned back to the window.
The clouds outside rolled on like silent waves.
"You want to risk our relationship for some orphaned nobody?" Jack spat. "You want to burn down your life for him?"
Victoria closed her eyes.
And the image returned.
Ian's smile.
His voice.
The way he looked at her like she mattered.
Jack sat back down across from her, defeated, staring at her like he didn't recognize the woman he was traveling with.
"Tsk. Sounds like you can't forget this guy."
She didn't respond.
Because he might be right.
No matter how far she ran, how much money she earned, how many red carpets she walked...
There was always a part of her that remained with him. In that orphanage. In Tokyo. In the silence between their final gaze.
And now, she was heading back.
To the beginning.
To the place where their lives first touched.
Back to South Carolina.
Victoria's hand found the window again, fingers trailing invisible lines on the glass.
Jack said nothing more. But he knew what he had to do when he finally met this Ian once and for all.
Victoria, on the other hand, had made her decision.
She didn't know what she would find.
But her feelings told her so.
She had to see him...again.
Even if it broke her.
Even if it cost everything.
Even if he had already moved on.
Because something in her heart whispered that she was already too late.
The jet roared across the sky, hurtling them toward a destiny neither of them fully understood.
But one thing was certain:
Ian Everhart was not just a memory.
He was the piece of her soul she left behind.
And now, she was coming back to claim it.