The Vienna Revival Runway was more than a show — it was a reckoning.
Luca stood behind the curtains, heart pounding under a tailored suit that shimmered with the deepest navy, stitched with whispers of silver — a sky reborn after the storm. His hand clutched Ayden's.
"You ready?" Ayden asked, eyes soft but firelit.
"No," Luca said honestly. "But I've never been more willing."
The music began — strings and synth, sharp and haunting. Their cue.
They stepped into the light together.
The crowd fell silent.
Whispers rippled: "It's him — and him — together."
Cameras flashed like fireworks.
Ayden walked with the grace of a man unafraid. Luca walked like he was rewriting history. Their final piece, co-designed, was a blend of rebellion and romance — tuxedo split with delicate lace, defiant heels beneath tailored pants. It was them — unashamed and alive.
Halfway down the runway, Julien stood at the edge of the front row, lips curved.
Luca paused. Turned.
Ayden tensed.
But Luca only bowed, elegant and final. "Goodbye, Julien."
Julien's smile slipped. He stood, clapped once. "Touché."
The lights dimmed as Ayden and Luca reached the end.
Then Luca pulled Ayden close and kissed him — not just lips, but with hands cradling his face, body pressed into his. A kiss that roared louder than the applause.
The room erupted.
Later, in the dressing room, Ayden sat on the vanity, breathless.
"You did it," he whispered. "You reclaimed it all."
Luca leaned in, forehead against his. "We did."
Then Luca grinned. "You know what comes next?"
Ayden raised a brow. "Hmm?"
Luca dropped to one knee.
Ayden choked on his breath. "No way—"
Luca pulled out a small black box, opened it.
Inside, two interlocked silver bands.
"Marry me. Let's write the next chapter without ghosts. Only flame."
Ayden laughed through tears, nodding. "Yes. Yes, Luca, yes."
Side Story: Eden × Ren
One month later.
Eden stood outside the flower shop he now co-owned — "Silver Thorns." He wore an apron with paint stains and petals, cheeks flushed from the morning rush.
A motorcycle pulled up. Ren, in casual black and wind-swept hair, dismounted and tossed him a helmet.
"Lunch?"
Eden grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."
They drove to the cliffs beyond the city, where the wind carried lavender and peace.
Sitting side by side, Eden leaned his head on Ren's shoulder. "Do you ever think about... what almost was?"
Ren laced their fingers. "Only to remind myself what we became."
"Do you think I'm still broken?"
Ren turned, serious. "No. I think you're blooming."
They kissed — soft, lingering, full of everything unsaid.
And beneath the cliffs, waves crashed against rock, writing love in salt and sky.