The Reunion Before the Curtain
Rin's POV
The morning sun poured softly through the wide glass windows of her small bakery branch in the capital — "Rin's Crumbs & Cream."
The scent of fresh croissants, butter, and vanilla filled the air, wrapping the place in warmth.
It was a slow morning, the kind she liked.
A couple sat near the window, whispering over shared pastries; a child pressed his nose to the glass display, deciding between chocolate or strawberry cupcakes.
Rin smiled as she wiped the counter. "You'll never win that argument, kid," she teased, and the boy giggled before choosing both.
She rang up his order, humming softly to herself. Business had been good lately.
Starling was at the exhibition hall preparing for her review, and Rin wanted everything to be perfect when her best friend returned that evening.
She was halfway through restocking the pastry shelf when the bell over the door chimed.
"Good morning," a deep voice said.
Rin turned automatically, still holding a tray of muffins — and froze.
A tall man stood by the counter, simple white shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy from the wind.
There was something about his face — sharp, familiar — that tugged at a long-forgotten place in her heart.
"Uh… hi," she managed, forcing a professional smile. "Welcome to Crumbs & Cream. What can I get you?"
He smiled faintly, polite but reserved. "A cup of coffee. Black. And one of those muffins — the ones with the chocolate drizzle."
Rin nodded quickly. "Coming right up."
Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the cup. Matthew Ashford.
It had been three years.
Three years since the night everything burned to ashes — and now, here he was, standing in her bakery like fate was playing a quiet joke.
She forced herself to breathe, to act normal.
Pretend you don't know him. Pretend you forgot.
"So," Matthew said casually, watching her work. "You run this place alone?"
Rin smiled lightly. "Yeah. It's a small branch, but I like it quiet."
"It smells amazing in here," he said, taking in the aroma. "Feels… peaceful."
She gave a small laugh. "That's the goal."
When she handed him the cup, their fingers brushed — a fleeting contact, enough to make her chest tighten with memories.
Matthew didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he did. His eyes lingered for a second too long before he took the cup.
"How much?" he asked.
"It's on the house," Rin said before she could stop herself.
He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yeah," she said quickly. "First-time customers get free coffee."
He smiled again — the same easy, disarming smile she remembered. "Then I'll definitely come back."
Rin laughed softly, playing along. "You better."
As he turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of the wallet in his hand — still with that faint leather scratch she remembered teasing him about years ago.
Her breath caught, but she kept smiling until the door closed behind him.
Only then did she whisper, barely audible,
"…Matthew Ashford. You haven't changed at all."
She turned back to the counter, trying to focus, but her thoughts wouldn't quiet.
Fate had moved one more piece.
And she had no idea that on the other side of the city, Starling's piece was about to move too.
Elijah's POV
While Rin replayed the past in her bakery, Elijah stood at the exhibition hall, the quiet hum of early morning preparation surrounding him.
"Sir, Miss Hayes will be ready in a few minutes," the coordinator informed him.
Elijah nodded. His chest felt tight — something between anticipation and unease.
He didn't know why he felt that way, only that he needed to see her.
He walked toward the private review room, unaware that fate had already started to weave the second reunion of the day.
Matthew's POV
The drive back to his office felt longer than usual.
He'd turned the radio on, but even the music couldn't drown out the thought spinning in his head.
He sat behind his desk, coffee cup still warm in his hands, staring at nothing in particular.
"Rin…" he murmured under his breath.
The name slipped out before he realized it.
He leaned back in his chair, frowning. "No. That's impossible. It can't be her."
But the more he replayed the scene — the voice, the way she smiled, even that tiny scar on her wrist from years ago — the harder it became to convince himself otherwise.
"Three years," he whispered, running a hand through his hair. "And she's here… in Country Q?"
He laughed softly, a little bitter, a little amazed. "Maybe I'm just seeing ghosts."
But deep down, something told him it wasn't imagination.
Fate didn't deal in coincidences — not for people like them.
He reached for his phone, staring at it as if he wanted to call Elijah, then stopped.
"No," he muttered. "Not yet."
He leaned back again, eyes drifting toward the city skyline through his office window.
"Rin," he said quietly, "if it's really you… what are you doing here?"
(At this stage, am confused but anyways let's see how this ends, please I need your vote)
Elijah's POV
At the exhibition hall, the air buzzed with anticipation.
Reporters moved about, cameras flashing, while assistants rushed to hang final pieces on the walls.
Elijah adjusted his cufflinks, his expression unreadable, though inside he felt strangely restless.
He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find here — inspiration, perhaps — but the feeling tugging in his chest told him it was something else.
"Sir," the event coordinator approached with a polite smile. "The selected applicants are ready for introduction."
"Good," Elijah replied. "Let's begin."
They entered the main hall, where the chosen artists stood beside their workstations.
He scanned the group idly, offering a professional nod as the coordinator introduced them one by one.
"…and lastly, Miss Star Hayes," the woman said, gesturing toward a figure standing near the far end.
Elijah's gaze followed — and for a brief, quiet second, his world stopped moving.
She stood there in a white shirt flecked with faint paint stains, her hair pulled back, soft light spilling over her face.
There was something hauntingly familiar in her posture, the calm way she held herself, the grace that didn't need words.
Starling.
But she wasn't the same girl he remembered.
This woman carried a new kind of strength — quiet, grounded, radiant.
He blinked, steadying himself. "Miss Hayes," he said, his voice calm, professional. "Welcome aboard. I look forward to seeing your work."
Starling gave a polite smile, bowing her head slightly. "Thank you, Mr. Ashford. It's an honor to be part of the exhibition."
Her tone was respectful — distant. No trace of recognition, no flicker of the past.
Elijah tried to read her eyes, searching for something… anything.
But all he found was calm courtesy, the kind you'd show to any CEO hosting an event.
The coordinator moved on, introducing the next artist, but Elijah barely heard a word.
He couldn't shake the feeling that she knew.
That somewhere beneath that collected smile, she was hiding the same storm he felt raging inside.
He drew a slow breath and straightened. "Make sure all participants have what they need," he told the staff. "We'll reconvene tomorrow."
As he turned to leave, he glanced back once more — just once — and found her looking at one of her paintings instead of him.
He smiled faintly, a touch of irony in his eyes.
"Still pretending, Starling," he murmured under his breath. "You were always good at that."
Later that day in the evening
Rin's POV
Sleep didn't come easily that night.
The lights were off, the city outside quiet, yet Rin found herself staring at the ceiling — her mind replaying that five-minute conversation from the bakery again and again.
Matthew Ashford.
Of course she recognized him the moment he walked in.
There was no mistaking those eyes, that calm voice that always sounded like he was half-teasing, half-serious.
She had told herself she'd moved on — that the past was buried somewhere oceans away — but the moment he smiled at her across that counter, it all came rushing back.
The laughter, the nights they all spent together, the heartbreak that followed.
Rin turned on her side, burying her face in the pillow.
"I acted well," she whispered, almost proud. "He didn't notice."
But her chest ached anyway.
Because pretending not to care was easier than letting him know she never really forgot.
Starling's POV
Across the small apartment, Starling lay wide awake, staring at her painting in the dim light.
Elijah.
She didn't need confirmation — she knew it was him the moment he walked into that hall.
The way he carried himself, the quiet power in his gaze, the same voice that once said her name like it meant something.
She had promised herself that if fate ever crossed their paths again, she would face him with grace — not emotion.
And she did.
She smiled, bowed, spoke formally. Treated him like just another CEO.
But now, in the silence of her room, her heart betrayed her.
"Why did it have to be him?" she whispered.
Three years. She had rebuilt her life, healed her wounds, found peace.
Yet one look from him, and it all trembled again — like the past had never ended.
Starling pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the ache that refused to fade.
"You can't go back," she reminded herself softly. "Not again."
But the tears that gathered in her eyes told her heart didn't agree.
Elijah's POV
Meanwhile, in the Ashford mansion, Elijah sat alone by his balcony, a glass of wine untouched beside him.
He had seen her.
Not just an artist named Star Hayes — but her.
The way she stood, the calm in her eyes — even if she tried to hide it — he knew.
Starling.
He laughed quietly to himself, a low, broken sound. "You really thought you could hide behind another name?"
He leaned back, running a hand through his hair, but his chest felt heavy.
For three years, he told himself he'd let her go. That he wanted her to find peace, even if it wasn't with him.
But seeing her again — alive, successful, strong — it tore him in two ways: pride and pain.
And beneath all of that… longing.
He exhaled softly, whispering to the night,
"You still get to me, Star."
Matthew's POV
Down the hall, Matthew tossed and turned on his bed, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers.
Rin.
He'd known from the moment she looked up at him in that bakery.
She could change her hairstyle, her name, her address — but not those eyes. Not that warmth that made even silence feel alive.
And yet, she'd acted like she didn't know him.
He smiled faintly to himself. "So that's how it is, huh?"
He turned to his side, trying to convince himself to sleep, but his mind refused to quiet down.
All he could think about was her voice, her laugh — and that one small tremor in her hand when she handed him his coffee.
She knew too.
They both did.
And still, they pretended.
That night, Country Q slept beneath a calm sky.
Four souls, tangled by memory and fate, lay wide awake — pretending not to care, pretending the past didn't still pulse beneath their skin.
But fate was already smiling.
Because pretending never lasts forever.