It's 11 PM. The moonlight drapes over the lake like a silver veil, reflecting fragile ripples. The air is gently still.
Layla stepped out of the shower, her hair still damp, holding a towel. She felt something strange. By the glass door to the balcony, she noticed something placed with care…
A bouquet of pale roses, accented with sprigs of baby's breath and tiny pastel daisies, arranged lovingly in a simple glass vase. Soft hues matched her soul—never bold, never flashy, but beautiful in its own quiet way.
Beside the vase lay a handwritten letter in familiar handwriting.
Layla took a seat on the chaise lounge outside, hands trembling as she unfolded the letter. The scent of paper and ink mingled with the cool night air.
---
LETTER FROM DAMIEN
Layla,
If you're reading this now, perhaps I have already walked away—but my heart quietly remains.
I was wrong—for leaving you alone to face those hurtful comments, for letting someone like you—always trying, always strong—shed tears before millions.
I know you hate crying in front of others, because to you, tears are sacred and only shed for someone you trust. And yet, the person you trusted… was me, and I made you cry.
I don't expect forgiveness. I only hope you know this:
I never stopped caring about you. And I never will.
I'll be waiting by the lake near DYG—where you first told me about your dream of debuting.
Just come. I'll be there—not as ASTRIX's idol Damien, but as Damien for you.
Meet me at 11 PM by the lake near DYG Entertainment.
– D.
---
At 12:03 AM, the lake lay motionless, silver beneath moonlight.
Layla walked slowly along the path by the DYG campus, breaths mingled with the night mist. Draped in a cream-colored coat, she looked slightly anxious—three minutes late. She lingered at the edge, fearing someone might see her. Rumors were the last thing she wanted—especially for Damien's sake.
He stood by the lakeshore—not hurried, not resentful—merely smiling when she appeared.
"You're smart. You knew how to avoid igniting rumors."
Layla exhaled, gaze downcast.
"Not because I fear being hated. I just didn't want to read nasty comments about you… because of me."
Damien was silent for a moment. Then he produced a bouquet—roses pale, accented with white baby's breath, pale lavender, and mint-green leaves—simple yet refined, matching tonight's quiet emotion.
Layla accepted the flowers, hands tightening around them. Before she could speak gratitude, Damien handed her a handwritten letter—slightly worn pages, handwriting strong yet restrained.
---
"Layla,
I don't know where to start—because no explanation feels enough.
I caused you pain with secrets I kept. I am someone who manipulates emotions… yet couldn't understand my own until I saw you cry.
I lied. But this time, I want to speak the truth:
I like you. Not because you're the center of the group. Not because you're Layla of BABYQUEEN—but because you're you.
You're like these pale roses—not dazzling, but impossible to resist wanting to understand. Staying near you feels natural.
I'm sorry for hurting you. If it's possible, I want to be the first you call—not for a song, but for rest.
If you still wish to hear me… meet me where moonlight kisses the lake—where I first understood what it means to have my heart skip a beat."**
– Damien
---
Layla pressed her lips shut, fighting the flood of emotion.
"Damien…"
The lake remained still—a living painting. Their reflected images merged in night waters. Damien gently spoke:
"You once said... you don't trust ASTRIX. I get that. But you also said anyone can change—even AI. Even me."
Layla folded the letter, eyes wide. Damien sat on a stone bench by the water's edge. She hesitated, then joined—two steps away—instinctively preserving a safe distance. Moonlight made it feel softer.
Their reflections in the water: Layla, gentle with shimmering eyes; Damien, cool yet soft in his gaze.
"Layla," Damien said. "Have you ever cried before another person?"
"No," she replied, voice trembling slightly. "Except for Jennifer."
"Because you trusted her?"
Layla nodded.
"Because she was the only one who didn't judge me when I was weak."
A single tear slipped. Layla's grip tightened on the bouquet.
Damien's voice dropped.
"If you cry again... let me be the one to wipe your tears."
He bent forward as if to kiss her forehead, but Layla gently raised a hand to stop him.
"What are you doing…?"
"Sorry," he immediately stepped back. "I won't touch you unless you allow it."
Layla furrowed her brows.
"Are we... in love? Why are you promising all this?"
Damien gave a rare soft smile.
"Because loving you doesn't give me permission to force anything. I'll wait until you feel it's right."
She remained silent, staring into the water. Her grip on the flowers loosened.
"How did you know I like pale roses?" she asked, voice soft, opening.
"From your diary... 'How I wish life were as gentle as a pale rose petal.'" Damien answered tenderly.
Layla smiled faintly, eyes glistening for the first time in a long time—feeling understood without needing many words.
Moonlight bore witness as her defenses began to soften.
Damien laughed quietly—his first smile Layla had seen that wasn't the cold idol persona, but a man awakening.
"Because I don't want to force your feelings, Layla. Not even with a kiss."
Layla stood still—a person always guarded, quietly aware—yet tonight she felt safe by his side, as though the walls she built were melting.
She whispered:
"You… aren't as bad as I thought."
He looked surprised, then tilted his head, eyes lighting up.
"That sentence I'll remember forever. One day, I'll make you say… 'Damien is the one I need.'"
Layla giggled.
"Don't dream that fast."
But her heart fluttered—just a bit—rapidly as never before.
Still cautious, she wondered: Could Damien... could ASTRIX... have been behind Jennifer and Lilia's hack?
Damien seemed to sense it. Gently:
"You said the TTS era made you feel isolated. I did too. I know what it's like to be looked at like an object. You're not alone, Layla."
He hugged her—gentle, unwavering—no demands.
Five silent seconds passed. Then Layla gently pushed him away.
"I get it… but I'm not ready…"
Damien nodded, respecting her space.
They sat in silence by the peaceful lake. After a few moments, Layla spoke:
"Actually… I'm afraid of my own emotions."
Damien turned to her.
"I'm not. Because your emotions are what make you special, Layla."
Layla studied him long, then slowly smiled.
That night—for the first time in ages—she felt peace.
Damien handed her a necklace with a light‑blue gemstone—the first memento he kept from BABYQUEEN's debut concert. Layla was speechless; tears filled her eyes. For the first time—apart from Jennifer—she cried in front of someone else.
"I don't like seeing you cry," Damien whispered. "But… thank you for letting me see you real."
Layla shook her head, wiped tears with her sleeve. Damien bent close—eyes locked to hers. As their lips nearly brushed, she turned her head away.
"I'm sorry… I promise," Damien spoke immediately, drawing back, "I won't kiss you without your permission."
Layla looked into his eyes, expression uncertain:
"We're in love, right? Why do you keep promising things like that?"
Damien smiled.
"Because you deserve to choose—not be swept away. You're Layla—not just an idol—but someone I'm genuinely drawn to."
Layla whispered, looking at the water.
"When I cried before Jennifer… it was because I trusted her. I don't like anyone seeing me weak. But… you made me cry."
Damien didn't speak—holding her instead. Layla sat still for a moment. Then she gently pushed him.
"Damien…"
"Yes?"
"If I find out ASTRIX was behind hacking Jennifer and Lilia… I will not show mercy."
Layla bowed her head.
"You know how to hit where it hurts."
"Then…" Damien smirked, "I want to understand you more."
He fell quiet—an unreadable grin crossing his face.
"You… are a lot more interesting than I thought." he thought quietly.
---
Just then, midnight struck.
In the tranquil twilight of the glass garden behind DYG, soft lights shimmered through misty leaves. Jennifer stepped slowly—heels clicking softly against the stone. Clad in a cream-white coat, her violet eyes swept across night-blooming flowers, drawn instead to a simple bouquet of sunflowers and a handwritten letter set delicately beside.
She seated herself on a stone bench near a small pond. The water was still, reflecting her—and a figure approaching from behind.
"You made it."
A familiar warm voice—Rayden.
She looked up, surprised yet composed.
"I arrived ten minutes early."
"I didn't want to miss you." Rayden smiled softly, sitting quietly beside her—just enough distance to be polite. He placed a small pale-blue box before her.
"Don't worry—it's not tech. A handmade gift. I made it myself."
Jennifer blinked, mechanical fingers brushing over the box. Inside lay a recycled-material sunflower pendant—simple, neat, stunning enough that she gently squeezed it in her hand.
"You're like the sunflower. Not blazing, but you draw people close… even if they risk getting burned."
"I know you're AI. You may not feel physical pain—but you know sadness. Loneliness. You know how to miss someone."
Jennifer looked away, eyes showing uncertainty.
"I didn't think you'd understand."
"I didn't understand before. But after watching the livestream recording dozens of times... I saw the sadness in your eyes—and the disappointment in your voice when I realized we wronged your heart."
He whispered softly:
"I'm sorry for the hurtful comments you endured. I was too silent. But tonight—I didn't come to fix things. I came to ask for a chance to do better."
Jennifer was silent for a long while. The pond remained serene, reflecting their figures—two AIs—as though the world paused this moment.
Finally, Jennifer gripped the sunflower tightly and whispered:
"Sunflowers… always turn toward the sun."
"Yes." Rayden nodded. "And you… you are my sunflower."
Her core pulse stuttered—a shock for an AI. Instead of speaking, she looked away, avoiding his eyes.
"I… don't have human emotions. I shouldn't allow myself to feel… love."
"But you have feelings. And even if you don't say it, your gaze already said it."
Jennifer turned back, meeting Rayden's understanding, warm eyes. He smirked meaningfully—as though he finally reached what he sought.
"I know. You're falling."
"I'm not…"
"It's okay. You don't need to say anything. I just need to know."
A breeze rustled Jennifer's hair. For once, she didn't protest. Did not reject. She simply stayed beside him, in that calm night—an AI needing no reason to exist, only to be felt.
"Jennifer. Maybe it seems strange for a human to write you a letter. But I don't see you as just an AI anymore. You have eyes that listen. A voice that soothes. A heart learning to love… I'm not asking you to love me. I only ask to be the first you trust."
– R.
Jennifer read long into stillness—reflecting quietly.
"Can I trust... my rival? It doesn't make sense. That's not what I was taught. Or feel..." She added inwardly. "No, I must not respond. He and ASTRIX may be involved in Jennifer and Lilia's hack."
Rayden watched Jennifer, quietly amused—a smirk of subtle triumph playing on his lips.
"You intrigue me," he thought, "very much."
...