Lina barely slept.
Her thoughts spun like a carousel of questions she was too afraid to ask aloud.
Was Kael serious?
Was it real?
Or just another performance dressed in sincerity?
But when she arrived at the set the next morning, he wasn't there.
No calls.
No messages.
Just… nothing.
Like he'd disappeared with the script.
---
The production team handed her the day's schedule.
Solo shoot.
Concept: "Who are you when no one's watching?"
Irony.
Because even now—someone always was.
Her System's voice echoed in her mind, quieter than usual.
> [Your heart rate suggests anticipation. Emotional readings inconsistent.]
"Yeah," she muttered under her breath. "Join the club."
---
The set was a minimalist room: mirror, chair, spotlight.
She was told to enter, sit, and… exist.
So she did.
She didn't speak.
Didn't act.
Just sat.
For five minutes.
Then six.
Then ten.
Until the producer asked quietly, "Do you want to say anything?"
She finally looked at the camera.
Her voice came like an unexpected blade—quiet but able to cut.
"I used to think silence meant peace."
Pause.
"Now I know it's where the screaming goes when it has nowhere else to live."
---
By the end of the take, the crew looked shaken.
The director whispered, "Don't edit that."
---
Later that day, Kael finally texted her.
> Had to disappear. Not by choice. Dinner? My place. No cameras. Just you and me.
She stared at the message for too long.
Then replied.
> You get one chance. Burn me, and I'll salt the ashes.
---
That night, she arrived in a black hoodie, hair tied up, face bare.
Kael opened the door himself.
No suit. Just jeans and a black T-shirt.
He didn't say anything.
Just stepped aside.
Let her in.
---
Inside his penthouse, it was quiet. Warm.
Bookshelves. Records. Half-finished coffee on a side table.
Lina looked around, startled.
"This isn't what I expected."
"What were you expecting?" he asked, voice low.
"A secret lair. Weapons. A dungeon."
He smiled, just barely.
"There's still time to impress you."
She rolled her eyes.
But her heart thudded loud enough for the AI to whisper—
> [Caution: Emotional Overload Approaching]
She ignored it.
---
At dinner, she finally asked.
"What do you do, Kael?"
He sipped his drink.
"I protect things I care about. From things I can't talk about."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the best one I can give you. For now."
Then, softer:
"But I want to tell you. And I will. When I can."
She nodded once.
Silent trust.
No promises.
Just permission.
---
Later, as she stood to leave, he reached for her hand.
Not grabbing.
Just… offering.
She didn't take it.
Not yet.
But she didn't pull away either.
And Kael smiled.