Mark didn't believe in fate.
He believed in training, in timing, in working until things made sense-even when they didn't. Especially when they didn't.
But when he heard her name backstage that night, something in him stilled. Like the air had shifted. Like time, for once, wasn't rushing forward-it was folding in on itself.
Lexie Jung.
He hadn't heard her voice in nearly a decade, but he remembered how it felt. Soft-spoken but sure. Warm, like Vancouver sun through a frosted window. And then gone-just like that.
Now she was here. In Seoul. In his orbit again, somehow.
Mark stood in the wings, the pulse of the crowd echoing through his chest as the final notes of their encore faded into darkness. He should've been thinking about the setlist, the afterparty, the schedule for tomorrow.
But all he could think was:
What happens when the one that got away walks straight back into your world-before you're ready to face her?
And what if this time... you don't look away?