The fan sign event was loud, buzzing with excitement. Dozens of fans crowded the hall, holding posters, albums, and gifts for Travier. He smiled and signed, his handwriting elegant, his demeanor patient.
But Saphirra just stood at the side of the stage and assisted him whenever he needed a few retouches or fixed his hair. Suddenly, Saphirra noticed something different. Travier's golden eyes weren't just focused on the fans in front of him—he kept darting glances through the crowd, scanning faces like he was searching for something.
That bright yellow star mark on his cheekbone—a mark he'd been born with—glimmered under the soft lighting. Fans had always thought that his mark is so cute and few fans sometimes tried to copy it but they can't since they always smudge it accidentally before they could even go near him.
Then, halfway through the signing, Travier froze. His pen nearly slipped from his hand. Across the crowd, a woman stood quietly, her long hair falling over one shoulder. And there it was—a bright yellow star mark, identical to his, glowing on the side of her cheek.
For a moment, Travier forgot the fans, the cameras, even the noise. His heart skipped, recognition he couldn't explain pulling at him like gravity.
Travier knew that he shouldn't fall for it, that maybe it was just a trap or something like what other people usually do to fake their marks, but no. Travier felt a sudden strange pull toward the woman he was staring at right now, those brown curly hair and brown eyes, it's so breath taking.
Saphirra caught the way he stared. Her chest tightened. She didn't need to ask what had stolen his attention. She knew. Saphirra turned her head to follow where he was staring, and there she see the woman with the same mark.
She smile to other fans as they greeted her, she looks so kind and perfect while there she is, stuck being a make up artist, wearing a messy hair bond and a casual attire.
Later, when the event ended and they slipped into the waiting room, Saphirra's voice broke the silence first.
"Who is she?" she asked, though she already feared the answer.
Travier rubbed at his mark unconsciously, still seeing that stranger's face in his mind. "I don't know... but she had it. The same star as me."
"And?" Saphirra's tone sharpened.
He looked at her, at the curve of her collarbone where a black half-moon with a crown mark rested, hidden most of the time beneath her blouse. He'd kissed that mark countless times, sworn his love on it. But now... now it didn't match his star.
Saphirra's hands trembled as she touched the half-moon. "So what are we, then, Travier? A mistake?"
The question hit him harder than he expected. He moved closer, cupping her face gently. "No. You're my wife. You're the woman I chose. Marks don't decide my love, Saphirra—my heart does."
But his eyes betrayed him, flickering just for a second with uncertainty.
Saphirra saw it, and her chest ached. She pressed her lips together, fighting back tears. For years, she had believed that maybe marks didn't matter. That maybe choice was stronger. But now, sitting across from the man she loved, she wasn't so sure anymore.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, a thought whispered cruelly,
What if soulmates always find a way to meet... even if they arrive too late?
What will happen to me then?
Will I ever find my soulmate? just like Travier?