☀️ Boog
Boog wasn't used to smiling. He'd trained all his life to control his emotions — to master the spell before it mastered him. But when he stepped into Café Lune, the tiny coffee shop tucked under a narrow stairway, he caught himself grinning without meaning to.
Nawin was there, behind the counter, wearing a beige apron that said Bean Me Up. His hair was messy again, curls escaping from a loose tie. The scent of roasted coffee filled the air like magic disguised as warmth.
"Boog!" Nawin's face lit up. "You actually came."
Boog nodded. "I said I would."
"Yeah, but people say that and never show up."
"I keep my promises," Boog said simply.
Nawin tilted his head, smiling. "You're different."
If only he knew how much.
Boog sat by the window, watching people hurry past. He wasn't used to places like this — the sound of milk frothing, cups clinking, laughter spilling through the air. Everything was so alive here, chaotic and comforting.
When Nawin brought him a latte, he placed it down with a teasing grin. "Don't tell me you've never had coffee before."
Boog looked at the drink suspiciously. "I've had… things similar."
Nawin raised a brow. "Similar? Like tea?"
Boog hesitated. "More like brewed star petals."
Nawin laughed so hard he nearly spilled the cup. "You're weird, Boog."
"I know," Boog said without a hint of offense.
Something about his quiet honesty disarmed Nawin. It was like trying to talk to someone ancient and gentle all at once.
As the day passed, Boog found himself listening more than speaking. Nawin talked about his life — how he'd dropped out of art school to take care of his younger sister, how he worked part-time at three places, how he wanted to travel but never could.
Every word etched itself into Boog's chest.
He wanted to protect that laughter, that light. It was irrational — he'd barely known him for a day. But when Nawin leaned closer to show him something on his phone, their hands brushed.
And the glow returned.
Faint, golden light beneath Boog's skin.
Nawin froze. "Boog… your hand."
Boog pulled it back too quickly. "Static," he lied again, voice tight.
But Nawin's eyes lingered on him — curious, confused, maybe even afraid.
Boog stood abruptly. "I should go."
"Wait—" Nawin started, but Boog was already at the door, heart racing, light still pulsing beneath his sleeve.
On the street, he exhaled hard, clutching his hand. The glow refused to fade.
He looked back through the café window. Nawin was staring at his empty chair.
Somewhere deep inside, the first fracture of secrecy began to form.
🔥 Jonk
The bar was louder tonight. The crowd had doubled, the energy restless. But Jonk's focus was singular — on Tawan.
The boy was onstage again, guitar resting against his thigh, voice carrying through the haze. The lights were soft amber and blue, shadows curling around him like shy spirits.
Jonk sat at the corner table, drink untouched. Every lyric scraped gently at something inside him — something that had long been asleep.
When Tawan finished his set, Jonk was already waiting near the back door.
"You again," Tawan said, amused.
"You sing like your heart's on fire," Jonk replied.
Tawan laughed. "And you talk like you swallowed poetry."
"I might have," Jonk smirked.
They walked together down the narrow alley, the night air sharp and clean. Tawan carried his guitar case, shoulders slouched from exhaustion.
"So," Tawan said, "what do you do, Jonk?"
Jonk hesitated. "I… travel."
"Ah, mysterious traveler. You don't sound local."
"I'm not," Jonk said softly. "I come from far away."
Tawan smiled. "I figured. You have that look — like you've seen stars no one else has."
Jonk turned to him, and for a moment, time slowed. The lights flickered. The bracelet under his sleeve glowed crimson, pulsing like a heartbeat.
He hid it in his pocket.
"Maybe someday," Jonk murmured, "I'll show you those stars."
Tawan laughed. "You make that sound like a promise."
"It is."
They stopped at the corner where their paths split. Tawan lingered, fingers brushing his guitar strap. "You're strange, Jonk."
"So I've been told."
But when Tawan smiled before walking away, Jonk felt it — the burn of something real. Something human.
As he turned toward the streetlight, the red glow flared again — brighter than before.
And unseen by both of them, a shadow rippled across the far end of the alley, watching.
🌙 Donk
Phum's flower shop had become Donk's sanctuary.
Every morning, he stopped by. At first, it was for tea. Then for conversation. Now… he wasn't sure anymore.
Phum had a laugh that could heal, and eyes that carried quiet storms. Donk found himself wanting to know every thought behind them.
Today, Phum was arranging a bouquet of orchids when Donk walked in. "You're early," Phum said without looking up.
"I couldn't stay away," Donk said honestly.
Phum smiled faintly. "You say things like that too easily."
"Only when they're true."
The bell chimed as a breeze swept through the open door, scattering petals across the floor. Donk bent to help gather them, his fingers brushing Phum's as they reached for the same flower.
The world tilted.
His bracelet burned silver.
For a second, the petals around them glowed faintly — alive with residual magic.
Phum looked around, puzzled. "Did you see that?"
Donk hesitated. "See what?"
"The flowers… they shimmered."
Donk forced a calm smile. "Light trick, maybe."
But Phum didn't look convinced. "No. It felt warm. Like something was alive."
Donk looked at him — really looked — and saw wonder instead of fear. "Maybe something is," he said softly.
Their eyes held longer than they should have.
Then Phum cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "I should get back to work."
Donk nodded, but his heart stayed behind.
When he stepped outside, the wind carried a whisper — faint and familiar. The Queen's voice, echoing across realms.
Be careful, Donk. Love awakens power. Power attracts danger.
Donk looked up at the clouds, jaw tight. "Then I'll protect him."
That night, the three met again on the rooftop — the city stretched beneath them, a sea of light and pulse.
Jonk was pacing. "Something's wrong. I felt someone watching me tonight."
Boog looked up sharply. "A shadow?"
"Maybe. I didn't see clearly."
Donk joined them, gaze serious. "The Queen warned me. Power draws attention. If the Hunters found a trace—"
"We'll handle it," Boog interrupted, though his voice was softer than his words. His mind was on Nawin — the way he'd looked at his glowing hand.
Jonk smirked humorlessly. "You say that like we're still in control."
"We are," Boog said, though even he wasn't sure anymore.
Donk folded his arms. "Our bonds are forming. Once they're sealed, the Hunters will sense it."
"And then?" Jonk asked.
Boog's eyes glowed faintly gold in the moonlight. "Then we fight."
The wind picked up, cold and restless.
Below, the city glittered — unaware that three stars from another world were falling in love, and that love was about to ignite something far greater than magic itself.