The fan sign was moving steadily, fans stepping up one by one, shyly handing over their albums and posters for Travier to sign. His practiced smile never faltered, though his thoughts still lingered on the strange woman he had spotted earlier in the crowd.
And then, it happened.
She stepped forward, an album clutched nervously in her hands. Her long sleeves brushed against the table as she pushed the album toward him, and when her hair shifted, Travier's breath caught—there it was. The golden star mark, bright and unmistakable, resting on her cheekbone exactly where his was.
Vanessa. That was the name scribbled on the sticky note attached to the album.
Travier blinked, his usual composure slipping.
"You... you have the same mark," he murmured before he could stop himself.
Vanessa's eyes widened, her hand flying instinctively to cover her cheek. "I—wait—you—" Her voice trembled with shock. "I've never met anyone else with this."
For a moment, the noise of screaming fans and snapping cameras blurred into silence. The connection between them was undeniable, like invisible strings tugging them closer.
Travier's fingers brushed hers lightly as he handed back the album, and the touch sent a shiver racing up his arm—strange, unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. Warm, in fact. Comforting, as though he'd known her long before this day.
He found himself leaning slightly forward, lowering his voice. "It feels... surreal, doesn't it?"
Vanessa's lips parted, her eyes glimmering with something fragile and stunned. "Like... maybe it means something."
Travier snapped back in reality and chuckled before leaning back.
"Well, you can stop pretending. I think you already know what it means"
Vanessa paused and look at his eyes before smiling.
"Well, I just want to see your reaction. After I-"
Travier shake his head and gave her a smile which makes her words to cut mid-sentence.
"Lets not talk about it here" Travier said, while Vanessa frown before smiling.
"Then... will you invite me backstage?" She asked with a hopeful tone beneath her voice, which Travier just chuckled.
"No, you can go now. The other fans were waiting for their turns" Travier said and gave her a faint and uninterested smile.
Vanessa frown for a bit before huffing and step down the stage.
Meanwhile, backstage, Saphirra was busy setting up Travier's water bottle, towels, and quick meal for his break. She hummed softly, lost in her small preparations, not knowing that on the other side of the curtain, her husband's heart was starting to stir with something he couldn't quite name.
The manager called for the next fan, breaking the moment, but Travier's gaze lingered on Vanessa until she was swallowed back into the crowd. His chest felt different—lighter, alive in a way he hadn't expected.
And though he pushed a smile back onto his face for the next person in line, inside, something had already shifted.
Backstage, Saphirra had everything laid out neatly: his favorite bottle of water, a small towel, and a quick snack she knew he liked before he went back under the hot lights. She straightened things out with care, the way only someone who knew him inside and out could.
When Travier finally stepped behind the curtain for his break, she instantly noticed it—something in his expression. His smile was softer, distracted, like he was still somewhere else.
"You look..." she tilted her head, searching for the right word, "different."
Travier forced a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just tired, that's all."
But Saphirra had been by his side for years—she could read him better than anyone. The way his eyes seemed to linger on nothing, the faint curve of his lips like he was reliving a pleasant memory... it wasn't exhaustion. It was something else. Something warm.
Her chest tightened. "You keep looking around. Even during the signing, I saw it. What are you searching for, Travier?"
He froze for just a second too long. "Nothing. Just faces in the crowd, that's all."
But his words rang hollow. He thought of Vanessa, of the way her hand had trembled when she realized their marks matched, of the strange spark that had passed between them. He hadn't felt anything like it before. And though he didn't want to admit it—even to himself—he liked the way it made him feel. Alive. Connected.
Saphirra stepped closer, brushing at the powder on his cheek like she always did, but her fingers lingered. Her eyes searched his face, desperate, almost afraid. "We're married, Travier. Tell me I'm not losing you to... whatever it is you're looking for."
Her words cut deep. He wanted to pull her into his arms and say nothing could ever change what they had. But the memory of Vanessa's star mark burned too vividly in his mind, refusing to be silenced.
He kissed Saphirra's forehead gently. "You're not losing me," he whispered, even though a small, guilty part of him wondered if fate was already writing another story for him.
Saphirra closed her eyes against his touch, trying to believe him. But in the back of her heart, the black half-moon mark near her collarbone felt heavier than ever—like it didn't belong. Like it was proof of a truth she didn't want to face.
The ride home was unusually quiet. Normally, Saphirra would chatter about the fans' reactions, or tease Travier about how he smiled too wide in photos. But tonight, she just focus at the road silently, her hands are holding the wheel not too tight while not even sparing a glance to ward his direction.
By the time they reached their apartment, the silence weighed heavier than the noise of screaming fans ever did. Saphirra slipped off her shoes, moving straight to the couch without a word. Travier watched her, guilt twisting in his chest. He knew exactly what was haunting her thoughts, because it was haunting his too.
He sat down beside her slowly. "Saphirra."
She didn't look at him. "I'm fine."
Her voice was flat, but her trembling hands betrayed her. She kept rubbing absentmindedly at the spot near her collarbone where her half-moon mark rested, as though trying to hide it—or erase it.
Travier's chest ached. He reached out, gently taking her hand to still it. "You're not fine. Talk to me."
Her eyes flicked to him, glossy with unshed tears. "What if I'm not enough for you, Travier?" Her voice cracked, soft and raw. "What if that star mark on your cheek means you were never meant for me? That you were meant for... someone else?"
He swallowed hard. The guilt pressed down heavier. She had seen right through his distraction, through the way Vanessa's face had lingered in his mind. But seeing the woman he loved—his wife—so broken by it cut deeper than any truth fate could offer.
Travier slid closer, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. "Don't ever say that." His voice was low but firm. "You are enough. You've always been enough. Saphirra, I don't care about marks or fate or whatever anyone says about them. I chose you. Every single day, I choose you."
Her shoulders shook against him as the tears she'd been holding back finally fell. "But what if you can't ignore it? What if one day, you wake up and... you don't feel the same way anymore?"
He tilted her chin up gently so she had no choice but to meet his eyes. "Then I'll remind myself of everything we've been through. How you've stood beside me, believed in me when no one else did. That mark on your collarbone doesn't define us. My heart does—and it beats for you."
Saphirra searched his eyes for any trace of doubt. And though guilt lingered inside him, his words were steady, sincere. She let herself sink into his embrace, letting his warmth ease the ache in her chest.
Travier kissed the top of her head softly. "You're my wife, Saphirra. My partner. My love. And nothing—no mark, no stranger, no fate—can take that away."
For the first time that night, Saphirra allowed herself to believe him. Even if the shadows of doubt still lingered, in that moment, his arms felt like home.