The Preview Day
Starling's POV
The morning sun poured through the curtains, painting golden lines across the small apartment.
Rin was already up, humming to herself as she packed snacks into a basket.
Starling sat at the table, carefully wrapping her finished paintings. Her hands trembled slightly — not from fear, but from the weight of what this moment meant.
Three years of silence.
Three years of rebuilding herself, one brushstroke at a time.
"Are you nervous?" Rin asked, looking over her shoulder.
Starling smiled faintly. "A little. Maybe a lot."
Rin came over and leaned against the chair. "You'll be fine. You've worked for this. And besides, I'll be there making sure you don't forget to breathe."
Starling laughed softly. "Thank you, Rin."
"Always," Rin said, squeezing her shoulder.
They left the apartment together, the city already buzzing with life.
The exhibition hall stood tall and brilliant, banners fluttering proudly in the breeze.
Inside, the atmosphere was electric — artists setting up, photographers adjusting lights, and staff hurrying back and forth with clipboards.
Starling found her assigned booth — a clean space near the corner, flooded with soft natural light.
She began arranging her canvases, each one a piece of her soul: White Lilies in the Rain, Solace, The Distant Shore.
Rin stood beside her, hands on her hips. "It looks perfect."
Starling stepped back, eyes glimmering. "It feels like a dream."
Rin grinned. "Then let's make them see what dreams look like."
...................
Elijah's POV
At the same time, across the city, Elijah adjusted the cuffs of his jacket.
Matthew stood near the doorway, waiting impatiently.
"Let me guess," Matthew said. "You're pretending not to care, but you've been looking at that exhibition file since 7 a.m."
Elijah gave a quiet smirk. "You talk too much."
"And you think too much," Matthew countered, grabbing the car keys. "Come on. The preview starts in an hour."
The drive to the venue was calm. Elijah gazed out the window, thoughts scattered — not about business, not even about the event, but about the strange pull he'd felt yesterday.
When they arrived, the hall was brighter than before — full of colors, people, and voices.
As one of the main sponsors, Elijah was greeted with handshakes and smiles, the typical business routine he'd long grown tired of.
Then the tour began.
Row by row, booth by booth, he walked through aisles of art — sketches, portraits, sculptures — each one carrying its own heartbeat.
Matthew followed beside him, half interested, half distracted by his phone.
But Elijah's attention caught on one display near the far end.
A soft, rain-washed painting of lilies — delicate, pale, almost glowing under the light.
He stopped walking.
Something in his chest stirred — faint, but deep.
He read the small tag below the frame.
Title: White Lilies in the Rain
Artist: Star Hayes
"Beautiful, isn't it?" one of the coordinators said behind him. "She's one of the newer participants — quiet, but her work speaks volumes."
Elijah's lips parted slightly, but no words came.
The name again. Star Hayes.
He didn't know why it sounded like an echo of something he'd lost — or someone.
He moved closer, studying the brushstrokes, the soft curves, the quiet melancholy hidden beneath the colors.
It felt… familiar. Like the same hands that once painted him under the sky years ago.
Matthew tapped his shoulder. "You good?"
Elijah blinked, stepping back. "Yeah. Just—" he paused, eyes still on the painting. "Just reminded me of something."
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Starling's POV
From the far side of the hall, Starling and Rin were finishing their setup when a staff member walked over.
"Your section looks wonderful," she said warmly. "The sponsors are already moving around. I think one of them really liked your lily piece."
Starling blinked. "Really?"
"Yes. Tall guy, dark suit. Looked pretty serious."
Rin smirked. "Well, whoever he is, he's got good taste."
Starling laughed lightly, unaware that the man the staff described was the same one her heart hadn't forgotten.
Elijah's POV
He left the booth area quietly, his mind restless.
He couldn't shake the strange connection.
Why did that name — Star Hayes — sound like something his soul already knew?
As he reached the main exit, the wind blew through the glass doors, carrying a faint echo of laughter from behind —
Rin's laugh, followed by Starling's softer one.
He paused, turning slightly…
But the doors closed just as they stepped out the other side, their paths missing by seconds.
.............
Starling's POV
Outside, Starling looked up at the sky.
"Feels like the city's holding its breath," she murmured.
Rin smiled beside her. "Then let's give it a reason to exhale."
They walked away, hand in hand, their laughter fading into the hum of the city —
while somewhere behind them, Elijah stood alone in the sunlight, unaware that fate had just brushed past him again.
________________________________________
Elijah's POV
That night, the city glimmered outside his office window.
Elijah sat at his desk, the exhibition catalogue open before him — the same page he'd stopped at earlier.
White Lilies in the Rain — Star Hayes.
He traced the name slowly with his thumb, almost without realizing.
The painting wouldn't leave his mind — the way it felt alive, the way the light inside it carried pain and peace at once.
Matthew stepped in with two cups of coffee. "You've been staring at that page for an hour. Should I be jealous of the painting?"
Elijah smirked faintly. "You'd lose that fight."
Matthew laughed and set the coffee down. "Alright, what's really going on?"
Elijah hesitated, gaze still on the catalogue. "There's something about her work. It's… familiar."
"Familiar how?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. Like I've seen it before. Or maybe… like I've felt it before."
Matthew tilted his head, curiosity glinting. "So what now?"
Elijah's voice dropped, calm but certain. "I'm going to meet her."
Matthew blinked. "You mean personally?"
"Yes. If her art's this powerful, I want to understand the person behind it. I'll ask the coordinator to schedule a private viewing before the exhibition opens."
Matthew grinned. "Wow. The Elijah Ashford getting inspired by someone's painting. This is new."
Elijah's expression softened. "Maybe it's time for something new."
.................
Starling's POV
Meanwhile, across town, Starling sat by the window of their small apartment, sketchbook open on her lap.
Rin was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone and humming.
"You're quiet," Rin said, peeking at her. "You've been drawing that same line for ten minutes."
Starling smiled faintly. "Just thinking."
"About tomorrow's pre-interview?"
She nodded. "I wasn't expecting to get one. It's only for artists who caught the judges' attention."
Rin sat up, her face lighting up. "See?! I told you your work would speak for itself! You're finally being seen, Star."
Starling laughed softly. "You always believed in me more than I did."
Rin stood and stretched. "Someone has to balance out all your doubts."
Starling turned back to her sketchbook, her pencil gliding softly. "Rin…"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For staying. For everything."
Rin smiled. "Always. You're my sister by choice."
The moment lingered in warm silence, broken only by the sound of rain beginning to fall outside.
Starling watched the raindrops race down the glass and whispered, "Maybe tomorrow really will be different."
....
The Next Morning
The exhibition hall buzzed with reporters and staff preparing for the upcoming showcase.
A few selected artists had been invited for short interviews — a way to feature their stories and promote the event.
Starling stood by the registration desk, her ID tag clipped neatly to her shirt.
Rin fussed over her outfit like a mother hen. "You look perfect. Calm, confident, mysterious — exactly what an artist should be."
"Rin…" Starling sighed, smiling. "You're overdoing it."
"Overdoing it is my brand." Rin winked.
A staff member approached them. "Miss Hayes? The press team is ready for you. This way, please."
Starling followed, her heart thudding softly.
.................
Elijah's POV
At the same time, Elijah arrived at the same venue, greeting the event coordinator by the entrance.
"I'd like to meet the artist of White Lilies in the Rain," he said simply. "If she's available."
The coordinator nodded. "She's one of the participants scheduled for the media interview right now. You're welcome to stay after that — I'll introduce you personally."
Elijah nodded, his expression unreadable, but his pulse shifted beneath the calm.
He didn't know why — maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was something deeper — but he wanted to see her face.
He followed the coordinator toward the hall, unaware that Starling stood just a few doors ahead, behind a thin curtain backdrop where cameras were being set up.
..................
Starling's POV
The interviewer smiled warmly. "Your piece, White Lilies in the Rain, moved many of our judges. Can you tell us what inspired it?"
Starling hesitated for a heartbeat, then said softly, "Loss. But also forgiveness. Sometimes we paint the things we wish we could say out loud."
The interviewer nodded thoughtfully. "That's beautiful. Thank you, Miss Hayes."
When it ended, Starling exhaled, relieved. She turned toward the curtain, ready to leave — just as Elijah entered from the far side of the hall with the coordinator.
The staff walked between them, boxes being carried, flashes from cameras — noise and movement everywhere.
She passed behind him by only a few steps — close enough that the air shifted, the faint scent of her paint-stained perfume brushing by him for a second.
Elijah paused.
His breath caught — something in him recognizing a presence he couldn't name.
He turned slightly—
But she was already gone, disappearing into the sunlight spilling through the doors.
...................
Elijah's POV
The coordinator looked at him curiously. "Sir?"
Elijah blinked, realizing he'd stopped walking. "Nothing," he murmured. "Just… thought I saw someone."
He looked at the exit one last time, a strange ache threading through his chest.
"Find out when that artist will be available again," he said quietly.
The coordinator nodded. "Of course, Mr. Ashford."
As he turned away, Elijah glanced back toward the place where she'd just stood —
and for a heartbeat, the world felt painfully familiar.
Starling's POV
The next few days passed in quiet chaos.
Rin spent her mornings at the bakery's temporary branch in the capital, while Starling stayed at the exhibition hall, preparing her corner for the grand opening.
Her easel was set by a wide glass window, sunlight spilling across her unfinished work. Every brushstroke carried a story she couldn't tell — one of memory, guilt, and love she thought she'd buried three years ago.
"Miss Hayes," a staff member called, "you'll need to be here tomorrow morning for the curator's final review before the public viewing."
Starling nodded politely. "Understood."
Rin entered soon after, carrying a paper bag of pastries. "Guess who brought breakfast for a future international artist?"
Starling laughed softly. "You never stop hyping me up."
"That's my job," Rin said, setting the bag down. "So how's the piece coming?"
Starling's eyes softened on the canvas. "Almost done. It's called Before the Dawn."
Rin tilted her head. "Sounds deep."
Starling smiled faintly. "It is."
.....
Elijah's POV
That same afternoon, Elijah walked through the exhibition halls, accompanied by the coordinator and a few assistants.
He wore a plain black shirt — no suit, no tie — blending quietly into the crowd of curators and artists.
"Mr. Ashford," the coordinator said, "most of the artists are doing final setups. You can preview any section you'd like before tomorrow's review."
"Good," Elijah replied simply.
They entered the central gallery — a maze of colors, canvases, and voices. His gaze wandered from piece to piece, sharp yet distant.
But then, something stopped him.
A painting.
It wasn't White Lilies in the Rain this time — it was new.
Soft tones of blue and gold blended into the silhouette of two people standing apart beneath a pale sunrise.
The plaque beneath it read:
"Before the Dawn" — Star Hayes
He moved closer, drawn in.
Every detail felt alive — the heartbreak, the yearning, the tenderness hidden behind pain.
His fingers brushed the edge of the frame.
Why does it feel like I've lived this before…?
....
...
Starling's POV
Starling returned from the storeroom with new brushes, unaware that Elijah had stepped into her section.
She froze at the corner when she saw someone standing in front of her canvas — tall, broad-shouldered, his posture composed but oddly familiar.
From behind, his aura was quiet but powerful, the kind that made the air feel heavier.
Rin whispered beside her, "He's staring at your painting like it's telling him his life story."
Starling forced a small laugh. "Maybe it is."
Rin smiled. "Want me to go thank him for the attention?"
Starling shook her head. "No need. Let's just finish setting up."
Rin shrugged and walked to the other side of the display.
Elijah turned slightly at the sound — not enough to see Starling's face, but enough for her to catch his profile under the golden light.
Her heart stopped.
That jawline. That calm, cold expression softened by something deep.
It couldn't be…
But before she could look again, one of the staff called her name.
"Miss Hayes!"
Elijah turned toward the voice — and at that exact moment, Starling ducked behind the divider, her pulse racing.
By the time she composed herself and stepped back out, he was already gone.
......
......
Elijah's POV
"Sir?" the coordinator asked as they left the section. "Would you like me to schedule a private meeting with Miss Hayes?"
Elijah paused, still lost in the memory that painting had pulled out of him.
For a moment, he thought he'd heard a voice — soft, familiar — calling the artist's name.
But he brushed it off.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Arrange it. Tomorrow afternoon."
"Understood."
As they walked away, Elijah glanced once more over his shoulder toward her section, the faintest crease on his brow.
Star Hayes… why does your art feel like something I've lost?
..........
.........
Starling's POV
That night, Starling sat on her bed, her hands trembling around her sketchbook.
Rin was already asleep, her soft snoring filling the room.
But Starling's heart wouldn't rest.
That man — the one who stood before her painting — she couldn't stop thinking about him.
She hadn't seen his face clearly, but something in her soul had screamed a name she didn't dare say aloud.
"Elijah…" she whispered into the dark.
Her eyes burned, but she smiled weakly at the ceiling. "No. That's impossible."
Outside, the rain began to fall again — slow, steady, familiar.
........
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Elijah's POV
In his hotel room across the city, Elijah stood by the window, watching the same rain fall.
He couldn't explain the ache in his chest or the strange pull in his mind — as though the world had brushed against a memory he wasn't ready to face.
Matthew called from the bed, half-asleep. "You okay, bro?"
Elijah didn't answer immediately.
He looked down at the small exhibition pass on his desk — Artist: Star Hayes.
His fingers lingered on the name before he whispered, almost to himself,
"…Tomorrow, I'll find out who you are."