For the past month, Mirabelle had been sleeping better than she could ever remember. Each morning, she woke feeling weightless—her body rested, her mind calm and her heart inexplicably light. It was strange, but she never questioned it too deeply. Perhaps it was simply the comfort of routine, or the joy of watching EON's success bloom before her eyes.
She told herself it must be their music. Every new performance video, every fan clip, every behind-the-scenes interview seemed to radiate a kind of energy that reached straight into her chest. Watching Noah and the others perform filled her with pride, and that joy often lingered in her dreams.
Though she knew EON was staying at the Terania Estate during their Celestia Dome concert, Mirabelle kept her distance. She never once tried to see them in person. It wasn't from disinterest—if anything, she wanted nothing more than to talk to Noah again—but from respect. She had promised herself she would not disturb him anymore. He had always been focused, and this was the biggest concert of his life. The least she could do was give him peace.
Cassian, of course, refused to let her off easily. " I still can't believe you're not trying to meet us," he said one afternoon over lunch.
"I don't want to be a bother," Mirabelle replied, smiling softly. "You're all so busy."
"Busy, yes. But you're family."
"You're family, Cass. The rest of EON are my idols. There's a difference."
"…You literally helped raise one of them."
"Exactly," she said with a small laugh. "That's why I don't want to annoy him again."
Cassian only sighed and shook his head with amusement. They ended up sharing a long, comfortable meal—their first in months. Cassian told her stories from the Dome rehearsals: sleepless nights, near-miss pyrotechnics, the thunder of sixty thousand voices shouting their names. Mirabelle listened with wide, glowing eyes, laughing when he teased her for being EON's most devoted fan despite her family ties.
When they parted, Cassian hugged her tightly. "Come see me more often, okay?"
She giggled. "Sure—when you're not busy."
He smirked. "So never, then?"
They both laughed as they went their separate ways.
The finale came sooner than anyone expected. The Celestia Dome's last night of EON's concert had already been declared the event of the decade. Fans camped outside for days just to glimpse the group's arrival.
That night, Mirabelle decided she would finally go. The grand finale felt symbolic—an ending and a beginning all at once. She wanted to celebrate their journey properly, even if it meant blending into the sea of faces as just another fan.
Despite having unlimited access to front-row seats through her family's influence, she had given them all away throughout the month—donating them to devoted fans, sponsoring contests anonymously through EON's official fan clubs. But tonight, she allowed herself one small indulgence. She bought a single front-row ticket under her fan membership and invited one of the girls she had sponsored—a young fan who burst into tears in gratitude.
When Mirabelle stood before her mirror that evening, she took extra care with her appearance. Her dress shimmered like moonlit water, a soft blue that matched the color of Noah's fandom glowstick. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, and a faint gloss brightened her lips. She looked radiant—but not for attention. She dressed to honor the night, to become part of the beauty she was there to witness.
As her limousine stopped near the Dome, the sight before her stole her breath. Thousands of fans filled the streets, chanting, singing and waving lightsticks like galaxies in motion. The energy was alive, electric and contagious. Mirabelle smiled, joining the current of the crowd as they poured into the venue.
Then, the lights dimmed. The Dome trembled. And the world roared to life.
Sixty thousand fans screamed as the opening sequence flashed across the massive screens. When the countdown hit zero, the stage erupted in color. EON rose from the floor in a blaze of smoke and light, dressed in black and silver. The music thundered, the beat so powerful it rattled the seats. Noah stood at the center, his presence commanding, his movements sharp and deliberate. Cassian's harmonies soared, Jace's energy ignited the stage, Luca's guitar burned, and Theo's melody cut through the air.
Mirabelle's heart swelled as she cheered, her voice blending with the roar around her. Every camera flash, every note and every synchronized dance move filled her with awe. Noah's focus was absolute—until his gaze swept over the crowd.
Then he saw her—seated in the front row, a blue glowstick in her hand, wearing that same gentle smile that had haunted his dreams for months. For a heartbeat, the world went still; the roar of sixty thousand voices faded into silence, and all he could see was her. And then he smiled—not the polished, camera-ready expression his fans adored, but a genuine one: unplanned, bright, and unmistakable.
The crowd erupted, mistaking his reaction for a spontaneous burst of joy. Cameras caught it instantly—the leader of EON beaming mid-performance for no apparent reason.
Mirabelle, of course, had no idea. She was too busy singing along, clapping, and cheering, her face lit with unguarded joy. To her, it was simply the greatest concert she had ever attended—the perfect culmination of admiration, love, and pride for the boy who had grown into a star.
To him, it was something else entirely. Every lyric carried warmth that night. Every glance toward the front row lingered just a moment too long. And as confetti rained from above, turning the Dome into a sea of light, Noah sang like he never had before—his voice full of fire, joy, and quiet, unspoken longing.
Because she was there. And for reasons he couldn't quite explain, his world felt perfect.