DYG HQ, Practice Room #3 — 9:10 PM
Blue-green lights glistened on Serena's sweating forehead. The beat from the speakers pulsed through the room as she rapped:
> "Even if I fall, I won't look back… I am me, no permission needed…"
Breathing hard, her hair tied in a high ponytail, she reached to replay the track when:
"Ting."
A pale holographic light shimmered before her eyes. A private message, encoded for Serena's personal device.
Words streamed across it like breeze:
> "Serena, it's me—Julian. I know you may not be ready to forgive. But if you want an answer, meet me at Observatory Star in 10 minutes. Just once. If you don't come... I won't bother again."
Serena's hand tightened. Her heart raced in confusion, yet her legs moved before her mind could stop them.
---
Observatory Star — 9:30 PM
A floating glass dome hung in the night sky. The full moon hovered nearly within reach, and artificial stars danced all around.
Julian stood with back to Serena, hands clasped behind him. In his long black coat, eyes glowing red with solemn resolve he spoke softly:
> "You came."
Serena halted, tone firm:
> "If you're here to explain those disrespectful comments from before... then…"
Julian turned to her, holding out a bouquet of glowing red roses—each petal shimmering faintly as if coded with nano‑light technology. A fusion of classic romance and modern tech.
From his coat pocket, he retrieved a sleek silver vintage microphone engraved:
> "If you rap from the heart… the world will fall silent to listen."
> "This is the mic you wished for in your childhood debut dream," Julian said. "I had to bid for it from an old collector—it wasn't easy."
Serena stared at it, memories flooding back. She pressed her lips together.
> "You think this gift will make me forgive you?" she asked, voice hoarse.
> "I came to apologize. This time... as a man with regret. A fool who never dared face his true feelings."
Serena was silent. The bouquet warmed in her hands.
Julian stepped closer, gaze unwavering:
> "I thought I stood above emotions. But you've shown me I can melt. I can tremble, just from a look."
> "Julian..." Serena's voice broke, lips trembling.
> "I don't expect forgiveness now. But… amid this vast world, you are the only one I still wish to reach."
His sad smile surfaced:
> "You might call me fake—but for the first time, I feel truly alive."
Silence fell.
> "Why did you pick me?" she asked, eyes glistening.
> "Because you don't live for others. You're intense, strong... yet your heart deserves to be heard."
Then... Serena cried.
She stepped nearer, drawn into the warm space before her. Without warning, she rested her head against Julian's chest, arms trembling as emotion overcame her.
> "I hate you... but... I'm too tired…"
Julian gently wrapped her waist, hair trembling in his view:
> "Lean on me a little. It's okay."
Silence passed. Serena remained still, eyes closed, happiness blooming on her lips—brighter than any façade.
At that moment...
Julian lowered his head and let out a faint, knowing smirk—cool and subtle:
> "Sweetheart... you're fascinating. And you... are my next target."
---
Meanwhile… in the rehearsal room, soft ballad vocals rang out.
Sara practiced the chorus for their new BABYQUEEN song, "Eternal You"—her high notes drifting like wind over a field.
At that moment, the door opened soundlessly. A pale hologram floated before her, glowing gently. Text appeared:
> "Sara. Meet me at the Jardin Suspendu—where you first saw me, and I could not look away. 8:00 PM. — Elio."
Sara paused. Her heart pounded. She had felt something stir when Elio once glanced her way. But after the livestream scandal and negative comments… she had shut down. Yet tonight…
---
8:05 PM, Jardin Suspendu
A suspended garden in the night sky. LED branches drifted beside moonlit hues like a painting. Elio waited, holding a delicate bouquet of white-and-pale-pink tulips—pure and gentle, like her.
> "You came." Elio smiled softly.
Sara stepped forward timidly, clutching her sleeve.
> "Tulips… they're the flower I love most…" she whispered.
> "I know," Elio offered the bouquet. "Because you are the tenderest soul I've ever known."
Elio moved closer, eyes softening.
> "I'm sorry, Sara."
Sara froze—wind stirring her hair. Her hands tightened.
> "Sorry… for what?" she asked, voice trembling.
Elio approached, offering the flowers to her:
> "For hurting you. For making you doubt trust. And for the memory when you trembled on stage looking at me—and I… remained silent."
Tears welled in Sara's eyes, stage lights, anti‑fan jabs, Elio's silence... all swirling.
Elio continued:
> "I shouldn't have approached you. But every time you sing, my heart trembles strangely. And it scared me."
> "Scared of what?"
Elio looked deeply into her eyes:
> "That if I stepped closer… I might never turn back."
Sara's tears fell softly, unguarded.
> "I'm scared too—scared I'm foolish for liking you, though I know you're on the rival side. Yet... I have fallen since that first glance on that stage."
He said nothing, only gently drew her into his arms.
Sara sobbed softly in Elio's embrace, voice shaking:
> "Why me? Among thousands... I felt for you?"
Elio placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, his eyes conflicted behind soft pain:
> "Because you're the first one I wanted to... break my plan for."
Sara blinked slowly, hope shining through tears.
Elio offered softly:
> "Wear this?"
He opened the box—a pair of silver bracelets engraved with their initials. Sara nodded, putting one on.
Tears sparkled on her smile.
> "You don't need to reply. Just wear it… if you feel what I feel."
Sara looked at the bracelet, then at Elio. A silent moment.
She slipped it on.
> "I... like you."
Her words softer than wind but deeply clear.
Elio stilled, then slowly approached and kissed her forehead—gentle, tentative, and red as fireblossom on the girl's cheeks. Sara's gaze diverted with shyness.
> "Thank you… for trusting me." Elio whispered.
Sara glanced up. He smiled softly—but behind that warmth, his eyes flashed with something colder:
> "One bracelet in your hand—
Target number three: completed."
He smirked and turned toward the water, wind drifting through his hair. Then, unconsciously, tightened his grip.
"Yet… why does my heart beat just as fast?"
Gently brushing her cheek again, he spoke into the wind:
> "Sweetheart, you are fascinating. But you're also... the next target."
Yet deep inside, he felt he was losing his own direction.