The studio was a hurricane of organized chaos, but at its center, Perial sat in silence, the quiet metallic whir of a fidget spinner between her fingers the only sound she truly heard. Around her, the prominent photographer's studio bustled with high-fashion energy. Staff members darted across the floor with tangled cables, models adjusted their postures, and the director hovered over a bank of monitors, his eyes tracking every pixel.
"Ms. Dezancho, we will reshoot in fifteen minutes, right after Ms. Roshie finishes," the director called out. He tapped a finger against his tablet and held up a single hand, throwing out five fingers to emphasize the timeline.
Instantly, the crew divided. Five pairs of hands descended upon Perial and Seleigh, a coordinated blitz of hairspray, safety pins, and powder brushes. Perial closed her eyes, letting the frantic energy wash over her as she kept spinning the plastic widget in her fingers.
"You look gorg, mami! I'm sure these photos will have a stunning outcome," Gaelin, her makeup artist, crooned as he swept a soft brush across her cheekbones.
"Thanks, mami," Perial murmured, opening her eyes to inspect the reflection.
The mirror revealed a stranger or more like a familiar figure. Dark, smoky eyeshadow gave her a dangerous edge, contrasted sharply by a structured, vintage hairstyle. Her makeup was clean and porcelain, save for her lips, which gleamed with a deep, glossy cherry cordial. She wore a dramatic crimson dress accented with pink garnet accents—striking, fierce, and entirely detached from her actual mood.
Her gaze drifted to the mirror beside her. Seleigh sat there, sporting an archaic, sweeping hairstyle that somehow perfectly complemented the silkiness of her dark brown hair. She wore a vintage spring-autumn dress, elegant and flowing, terminating at a pair of pristine white Charleston shoes. Perial hated to admit it, even in the privacy of her own mind, but Seleigh looked like an angel that had accidentally tripped and fallen to earth.
As if sensing the stare, Seleigh opened her eyes. Their gazes locked in the glass. Panic flared in Perial's chest; she snapped her head away instantly, staring down at her fidget spinner as if it were the most fascinating object in the room. From the next chair over, a soft, musical giggle echoed. Seleigh smiled, her cheeks flushing a natural pink that blended beautifully with her own glossy lips.
"All right, Ms. Roshie, let's start your second-to-the-last shoot," the photographer announced, fiddling with the dials on his heavy camera lens. The crew scattered like startled birds. Lights were repositioned, reflectors hoisted into the air, and with a few final, frantic dabs of powder, Seleigh was ushered onto the seamless backdrop.
"Okay, mami, we're done here. Someone get her a bottle of water," Gaelin directed a production assistant, snapping his cosmetic case shut with a sharp click.
Perial leaned back in her chair, trying to look indifferent as she watched Seleigh under the hot studio lights. Seleigh moved with effortless grace, shifting from one high-fashion pose to the next.
"Good!" the photographer shouted over the music. "Wow! Move your hands and legs a bit! Yes! Just like that! One more take!" The praise grated on Perial's nerves. She welcomed the distraction when her phone vibrated aggressively on the vanity table. She picked it up, her eyes narrowing as Rell's name flashed across the screen. With a sharp roll of her eyes, she held down the power button and silenced the device entirely.
Seleigh walked off the set, catching Perial's eye and offering a sweet, lingering smile. Perial looked away immediately, a strange, unexplainable warmth blooming uncomfortably behind her ribs.
Brushing past her childhood friend, Perial stepped onto the backdrop. The moment the lens pointed at her, her professional mask slipped into place. She delivered a sequence of fierce, calculated, yet entirely calm poses, perfectly embodying the dark, romantic theme of the campaign.
"Yes! Turn your head a little bit to the left," the photographer commanded, the shutter clicking like a machine gun. "Wow! That's a great shot! Okay, that's a wrap on this set! Prepare for the final location!"
.
The glam room was suffocatingly quiet. Stripped of their elaborate wardrobe, Perial and Seleigh sat side-by-side in simple robes while the styling team stripped the vintage hair and makeup to prep them for the commercial portion of the day. Both girls held printed scripts in their laps, ostensibly studying their lines.
When the director stuck his head in the door to call the stylists away for a production meeting, the room emptied out in seconds. The heavy silence that followed felt thick, laden with years of unspoken history.
They had been inseparable in primary school—the kind of childhood friends who shared every secret. Then middle school arrived, brought down by a landslide of bitter family issues that forced them to cut ties completely. Years of radio silence had passed, only for the industry to drag them back into each other's orbits. It felt like a joke. It felt like fate.
"Hey," Seleigh's voice broke the quiet, tentative and soft. "Do you want to try rehearsing the script?" Perial looked at Seleigh through the mirror, wrestling with the sudden tightness in her throat before giving a stiff nod.
' It's all just work, ' Perial reminded herself fiercely. ' Let's just get this over with. '
She closed her eyes, forced the tension out of her shoulders, and opened them with a perfectly manufactured, jovial television smile.
"Hello, everyone! I'm Perial, and—" her voice was bright, bubbly, and completely fake.
"—I am Seleigh, and this is—" Seleigh picked up the cue, her smile sweet and seamless.
"The Xeloshi Show!" they finished in unison.
They ran the lines twice more, the rhythm returning to them with an ease that felt dangerous. Satisfied, they stood up together, turning toward the heavy dressing room door. But as Seleigh took her first step, her left leg locked. A sharp, violent cramp seized her foot. With a gasp, her balance vanished, and she began to plunge toward the hard hardwood floor.
Perial didn't think. Instinct and years of dance training took over in a microsecond. She lunged forward, her right arm wrapping violently around Seleigh's waist. The momentum twisted them both. Instead of catching Seleigh, Perial's own feet slipped, and she threw her free hand against the floor to break their fall, absorbing the brunt of the impact.
They hit the ground in a tangled, chaotic heap. Seleigh's left hand instinctively pressed against Perial's chest, her other hand braced against the floor. One of Seleigh's feet had wedged directly between Perial's legs in the scuffle, while Perial's arm remained locked like an iron band around Seleigh's waist.
Squeezing her eyes shut against a sharp groan of pain from her bruised shoulder, Perial braced herself to scold the girl for being so clumsy. But when she opened her eyes, the words died in her throat. Seleigh was hovering mere inches above her, her eyes slowly fluttering open. A deep, breathless crimson blush was spreading rapidly across Seleigh's cheeks, highlighting the shine of her lips. She looked mercurial, breathtaking, and entirely vulnerable.
Perial's breath caught. The sharp throb of pain in her shoulder completely vanished, entirely drowned out by the sudden, deafening hammer of her own heart against her ribs.
' This is not good, ' Perial's mind screamed, the warning bells drowning out the frantic thumping of her heart.
Seleigh's eyes widened in sheer panic. "I'm sorry! I'll get up—" She scrambled to push herself away, but her left leg betrayed her completely. The muscle seized violently, sending a sharp twinge of pain through her foot. With a soft gasp, she collapsed right back down, her weight pressing flush against Perial's body once more.
Perial swallowed hard, the sudden proximity making her dizzy. Their faces were mere inches apart, close enough for her to feel the warmth of Seleigh's breath. Terrified of what might happen if she kept looking, Perial sharply turned her head away, staring intensely at a random grain on the wooden floor.
"It's fine," Perial managed to say, her voice tighter than she intended. "Are you okay? Do your feet hurt?"
"It's still cramping..." Seleigh mumbled. Her voice dropped to a embarrassed whisper as she bowed her head, hiding her face against Perial's shoulder. "C-can we just stay like this for a few minutes?"
A heavy splash of heat rushed straight to Perial's face. She flushed a deep crimson, her throat locking up so completely that she couldn't even form a response. She simply lay there, frozen, acutely aware of the girl resting against her.
A few agonizingly long minutes ticked by before the heavy dressing room door clicked and swung open.
"Ms. Dezancho and Ms. Roshie, the director said—" Gaelin burst into the room, the sentence dying instantly on his lips as his eyes locked onto the floor. He froze, his gaze darting between their tangled limbs and flushed faces. A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. "Oh. Wow. Sorry, I definitely should have knocked. The director is calling for you now... but hey, maybe you two can continue that later?" He flashed them a silly, knowing wink before backing out and snapping the door shut.
For a second, Perial and Seleigh just stared at each other in absolute horror. The spell broken, they scrambled apart, rising to their feet with clumsy haste. Perial frantically smoothed down the wrinkles in her dress, her hands shaking slightly.
"I-I'm really sorry," Seleigh stammered, her voice small and incredibly shy as she refused to meet Perial's eyes.
"Gaelin's just letting his imagination run wild with something unrealistic," Perial snapped, her tone sharper than necessary to mask her own racing heart.
"Let's go now, or the director will scold us again." Without waiting, Seleigh turned on her heel and marched out into the corridor.
By some miracle of professional training, both girls managed to lock the embarrassing incident away in a dark corner of their minds. When they stepped under the hot studio lights for the final advertisement, they operated with seamless synchronization, carrying out the shoot as if nothing had happened at all.
"And that's a wrap! Great job, everyone!" the director shouted. The studio erupted. The crew and models immediately began clapping, a customary ritual at the end of a grueling shoot to express mutual gratitude. But the celebratory atmosphere didn't last long.
A sudden, low murmur swept through the back of the room. The crowded staff near the studio entrance began to rustle, shifting uncomfortably before parting down the middle like a breaking wave. Through the gap stepped a man whose sheer presence commanded the room. He was exceptionally attractive, dangerously sharp, and recognized by every single person in the building.
"Is that Xerchin Vcheroi?" someone whispered frantically.
"I know, right? What is he doing here?"
"What else? He's obviously here for his fiancée!"
"Wait, what? So the rumors are actually true?"
"Look at him, I think so!"
Perial's eyes narrowed as she studied Xerchin. He carried an aura of absolute detachment, his handsome face frozen in an expressionless mask. In one hand, he held a sleek, branded paper bag containing a high-end cake. The director and the main photographer immediately abandoned their equipment, rushing forward to greet him with deep, exaggerated respect.
"Long time no see, Young Vcheroi," the director chimed, his voice dripping with jovial compliance.
"You've gotten quite a glow, Young Vcheroi," the photographer added, a teasing edge to his tone. "Is that what they call being 'in love' ?"
Xerchin didn't even blink. He offered them a deadpan, unbothered poker face, his piercing gaze sweeping past them until it landed directly on Seleigh.
Seleigh looked entirely caught off guard, her lips parting in surprise. Perial looked between the two of them, her mind racing as she tried to connect the pieces. Before Xerchin stepped toward Seleigh, his eyes shifted. For a brief, freezing second, his gaze locked directly onto Perial, heavy and unreadable, before he walked past her.
"What a cute couple," a stylist sighed nearby.
"Right? They look absolutely perfect for each other."
"They're going to be such a power couple."
Perial slowly looked down at the floor, the praise of the crew fading into white noise. As she stared at the ground, a phantom chill ran down her spine, recalling the striking intensity of those blue, mercurial eyes.
Eyes she had seen just twenty-four hours ago.
__________
(A DAY AGO)
The leather seat of the car was comfortable, but Perial couldn't find peace. She idly adjusted her heavy sunglasses, leaning back as her fingers mindlessly scrolled through her iPad. Outside the tinted glass, the familiar skyline blurred past until the vehicle smoothly decelerated, pulling up in front of a luxury condominium complex. This was her sanctuary—the first place she always visited whenever she stepped off a long-haul flight from another country or wrapped up an exhausting international modeling trip.
"I'll just call you when I need a ride," Perial told her driver, her voice flat with fatigue.
She opened the door and stepped onto the pavement, her arms immediately straining under the weight of several oversized shopping bags. Kean had made her promise to bring back souvenirs and unique gifts if she came back from this tour. She had happily obliged, but the joy of the shopping spree had been entirely crushed when she received the delayed news of his accident. Trapped by strict contractual obligations in a foreign country, she hadn't been able to leave hurriedly, and the helplessness had eaten at her the entire flight home.
Stepping out of the elevator, she marched down the quiet hallway and stopped directly in front of Kean's apartment. She pressed the doorbell twice in a specific, rhythmic pattern. It was their private code; she knew Kean would instantly recognize that unique ring.
She waited, holding her breath, but the hallway remained suffocatingly silent. No familiar, hurried footsteps echoed from the other side. Anxiety tightening in her chest, Perial dug into her designer purse, retrieved the spare keycard Kean had entrusted to her, and tapped it firmly against the electronic sensor. The lock clicked. The door swung open, and a warm, instinctual smile immediately bloomed across Perial's face. She tilted her chin up, fully expecting to lock eyes with the friendly, comforting face of her best friend.
Instead, the smile froze on her lips.
A tremendous, suffocating aura rolled out of the apartment like a physical wave. Standing in the center of the entryway, looking down at her with a gaze as sharp and unyielding as winter ice, was a man whose striking, aristocratic features were recognized across the entire country.
"Who are you?" Xerchin asked. His baritone voice was shockingly deep, vibrating through the quiet space with dangerous, unbothered authority.
Perial's mind short-circuited as a single, panicked thought screamed behind her eyes: ' W-why is this man in his condo?! '
"I should be the one to ask you that!" Perial fired back, her voice a mix of ferocious defiance and utter bewilderment. "Who are you? For your information, I have a spare key—one that Kean gave me personally!"
Xerchin didn't give her the satisfaction of a reaction. He merely offered a blank poker face, turned his back on her, and walked deeper into the apartment. He didn't even cast a glance at the heavy shopping bags cutting into her fingers.
' What an absolute ungentleman! ' Perial thought bitterly, struggling to hoist the luggage across the threshold.
When she finally managed to gain entry, she dragged the bags to the dining table and dropped them down with a heavy sigh. She stopped mid-breath, her nose catching a rich, savory aroma wafting from the kitchen. It was the distinct smell of freshly cooked, steaming porridge and a perfectly prepared chicken curry.
She stared at the pristine pots on the stove, her mind spinning.
' He made all of this early in the morning?! '
Before she could piece the puzzle together, Xerchin retrieved his designer blazer from the back of a chair and walked straight toward the front door, clearly preparing to leave.
"Wait!" Perial called out sharply, stepping into his path. "What exactly is your relationship with my best friend?" Xerchin stopped. He tilted his head slightly to the side, his mercurial eyes catching the morning light. But instead of responding, his face remained a completely blank slate. He casually slid into his shoes, opened the door, and walked outside the condo without a single word.
' What a jerk! Why is he even here anyway? '
The sound of soft, hesitant footsteps behind her broke her train of thought. Perial spun around, her frustrated expression immediately melting into a joyful smile as her eyes landed on Kean. But as she looked closer, a sudden chill washed over her. She stopped in her tracks. Something felt entirely wrong. The way he stood, the distant look in his eyes—he didn't feel like the exact same person she had known for years. A strange, unfamiliar shadow seemed to hang over him.
' But maybe I've just been away from him for too long, ' Perial reasoned with herself, trying to suppress the growing knot of dread in her stomach. ' And he did just get into a serious accident. Of course he's going to seem a little different. '
_________
(PRESENT)
Perial turned her back to the lingering crowd, marching straight into the dressing room. She changed her clothes in a frantic rush and snatched up her handbag. She needed to escape immediately; she absolutely did not want to cross paths with Seleigh or that man ever again.
Slipping into the backseat of her waiting car, she collapsed against the cushions and closed her eyes in sheer exhaustion. The mid-afternoon sun had already given way to the cool, quiet shadows of early evening by the time production finally wrapped.
As the car glided through the city traffic, Perial found herself staring blankly at the vehicle's ceiling. Despite her best efforts, her mind dragged her right back to the glam room floor. The memory of the fall flashed vividly behind her eyelids, sending an entirely unexplained sensation pumping directly into her chest. It was a feeling she had never experienced in her life.
Slowly, she flattened her palm against her sternum, trying to steady the frantic, erratic rhythm. Her heart was hammering against her ribs as if she had just sprinted several kilometers down an endless road with absolutely no breaks.
Then, the whispered gossip of the crew drifted back into her thoughts. A fiancé. The prominent, powerful son of a massive conglomerate tycoon.
' She really does have a fiancé, ' Perial thought, a strange, bitter knot tightening in her throat. ' But why haven't I ever heard about this in the public eye? '
"Ma'am, we've arrived." The driver's voice made her flinch. Snapping back to reality, Perial climbed down from the car and marched straight into the high-rise building, heading up to Leansei's condominium.
Standing in front of the familiar door, she pressed the buzzer with her signature double-tap. A long, quiet minute passed before the lock clicked and the door swung open. Leansei stood in the entryway, looking entirely surprised to see her back so soon.
"I'm super tired and annoyed," Perial announced without a greeting, brushing past his shoulder and throwing herself face-down onto his plush sofa.
"What happened?" Leansei asked, his voice laced with immediate worry as he walked over to the kitchen to pour her a glass of water. Perial rolled over and sat up on the couch, her thoughts spinning in circles.
' Right... why exactly am I so annoyed? For what possible reason? '
She took the glass from Leansei and drank all of it in a few thirsty gulps. Setting the empty glass on the coffee table with a sharp clink, she leaned deep into the sofa cushions.
"Are you still friends with Xerchin Vcheroi?" Perial asked suddenly, her eyes locking onto him.
Leansei flinched visibly at the name. His shoulders went rigid, and he sharply looked away toward the window. "Yeah... why are we suddenly talking about him?"
"I saw him today," she said flatly.
Leansei froze, turning back to face her with a completely flabbergasted expression. "How?" he asked, his voice breathless and entirely stunned.
At that exact moment, something invisible yet devastating crushed Leansei's deep soul from the inside out. He couldn't figure it out, nor could he stop the suffocating weight settling over his chest. He desperately wanted answers, but at the same time, it felt as though fate was maliciously playing with his destiny, moving pieces on a board he couldn't see.
Perial glanced at his fractured expression before delivering the final, quiet blow. "He visited his girlfriend."