Belvaris thrived not only as the capital of a sovereign nation but as a beacon of learning and power. Its streets pulsed with life—students from around the world mingling beneath the shadow of grand institutions, the air filled with promise and ambition. Surrounded by water on all sides, the country’s natural barriers and vigilant navy stood guard, protecting its people and the stability that defined the land. This was the place where Alden and Akalon lived, where their stories were quietly unfolding.

"Aldy! Don’t forget your promise," Akalon urged, clinging to hope as if it were the last thread holding him together.

Alden’s eyes flickered with irritation. "Yes, yes, Mother. I won’t. Now stop nagging."

If it were up to me, I’d rather die than tell you my secret, he thought, swallowing the lump that caught in his throat. His expression shifted quickly—polished, controlled—masking the storm beneath. The ease with which he wore this façade was almost frightening.

At once, Alden spun around, energy bubbling over. "Finally, it’s concert day! I’ll see him today. Hurry!" His excitement made him dance and jump around the room.

"But I haven’t even heard his new song yet," he pouted, bewildered by his own busy schedule.

"Who are you talking to? The wall?" Akalon sighed, watching the boy he once knew dissolve into someone else—a man chasing shadows and stirring storms inside himself.

"It’s fine! I’ll listen to it at the concert," Alden chirped, undeterred as he resumed his dance.

Akalon’s heart ached. Around Alden, pain was spreading like wildfire, and no one could stop it—not even Alden himself.

"I called Kaelith before buying the tickets. He misses us too, so he’ll come," Akalon added, hoping to tether Alden back to reality.

Kaelith Vespera—the owner of Heartbreak Café—was more than just an elegant face and graceful presence. To Alden and Akalon, he was family. His warm, intense eyes and effortless charm hid a history marked by loss and quiet bravery. His café was a sanctuary, a place of comfort that the boys had both worked in before their lives took different paths.

"Really? That’s great!" Alden’s voice bubbled with renewed joy, a spark igniting in his honey-dipped eyes. But Akalon couldn’t shake the storm gathering just beneath that light.

Why did it feel like a hurricane was about to hit?

Kaelith had arrived just the night before, his presence only fueling Alden’s restless excitement. The news that Rayen would be attending added to the electric buzz in the air.

Yet beneath it all, Alden’s heart refused to settle. The thought of sitting front row, just steps away from his idol, had kept him awake through the night.

His mind raced with questions: Would his idol be angry after so long? Would he even recognize the boy who had grown into something more? The uncertainty gnawed at him, an endless loop of hope and fear.

The apartment was quiet in the early morning. Outside, the city was just beginning to stir—the faint hum of awakening life, people rushing to their day, the occasional car cutting through the streets. Inside, sunlight streamed through windows, casting soft shadows across the cozy room. The aroma of fresh coffee and breakfast simmered faintly, promising comfort in the calm before the day’s storm.

Akalon and Kaelith moved through their morning routine with practiced ease. Akalon, ever the early riser, was eager to rouse Alden.

“Kaelith! I’ll wake him up,” Akalon said, his voice low but urgent as he headed toward Alden’s room.

Kaelith reached out, stopping him gently. “Let him sleep a little longer. He only fell asleep an hour ago.” His calm tone left no room for argument.

Akalon nodded, falling into step beside him as the kitchen filled with the sound of sizzling and the comforting scent of breakfast.

Hours later, Kaelith quietly entered Alden’s room. The afternoon light seeped softly through the curtains, painting the dim space in gentle hues. He leaned close, fingers threading through the dark strands that now framed Alden’s face—once blond, now a rich black, still radiant in their own way.

“Aldy, wake up,” Kaelith whispered, voice soft as a breeze, his fingers tracing the familiar strands.

But Alden remained lost in sleep, the peaceful rise and fall of his breath undisturbed.

A faint frown crossed Kaelith’s face, frustration sparking. Then, a playful smirk curved his lips.

“Aldy! Aldy! You’re late for the show! The concerts already started!” he called out, barely suppressing a laugh.

Startled, Alden bolted upright, eyes wide with panic. “What? Why didn’t you wake me?” His voice was thick with sleep, hands scrambling for balance.

Kaelith chuckled, satisfaction shining in his eyes. His plan had worked.

Alden’s confusion melted into a sheepish smile. “That’s not fair,” he mumbled, though no real anger lingered.

Over lunch, the two teased and bantered, the warmth between them a welcome contrast to the earlier tension. Akalon hummed along, amused by the easy camaraderie, a brief reprieve before the night’s whirlwind.

International Airport, Belvaris

Far across the city, Zarion and his crew touched down via private jet. The country’s beauty unfolded beneath them—majestic landscapes, intricate architecture, and a culture vibrant with life.

Yet Zarion felt none of the awe. A knot of discomfort twisted in his stomach, a shadow he couldn’t shake.

He pushed it aside, focusing on the concert ahead. But the familiar ache of missing Alden—a craving not just for a face, but for something deeper—tightened its grip on his heart.

His normally steady composure shattered beneath the pounding of his own pulse. Each breath carried a whisper of unease, slipping deeper into his veins. Alden’s face haunted him, an unrelenting presence even with eyes closed.

This wasn’t just nerves. It was something raw and fierce, a storm rising from the depths of longing.

Alaric, the CEO of Lunar Fire Entertainment, rarely attended concerts. Business called for distance, for professionalism. But for Zarion, he made an exception. The young idol was unpredictable, and Alaric knew better than to leave him unattended.

Kieran, Zarion’s manager, stood close as well. Silent and watchful, his presence grounded Zarion, holding the line against the boy’s rising storm.

Together, they waited.

The venue buzzed with energy, but Zarion sat alone in the green room, hands trembling, legs shaky, caught between hope and fear.

“No,” he muttered, voice barely a whisper. “This time, I’m not leaving without seeing you.”

His fingers clawed at his hair, the sharp pressure anchoring him in the chaos swirling inside.