The day New Dawn was released for second edition, the sky was brilliantly clear. Sunlight filtered gently through swaying leaves, like nature had queued up a soundtrack for a day full of quiet magic.

Sea stepped out of the car, program folder in hand, walking closely beside Jimmy. For the first time, he wasn't attending a book signing event as a giddy fan hoping to glimpse his favorite author. He was part of the team—someone who helped bring the story to the world.

The signing took place at a flagship bookstore inside a large, bustling mall. Soft silver lettering of New Dawn gleamed across the event backdrop, framed with fresh white jasmine—the signature flower of Day, the author.

Fans were lined up from the main event space all the way to the hall outside. Some held handmade banners, others brought gifts, handwritten letters, or floral bouquets. The air buzzed with excitement and nerves—like waiting for a beloved idol to take the stage.

Backstage, Day sat on a stool, tightly gripping his signing pen, one leg bouncing to a silent rhythm. Despite the room's cool 24°C setting, sweat dotted his brow. Mhok, as always, didn't take his eyes off his partner for a second.

Seeing Day's nerves, Mhok stepped closer, placed a hand on his shoulder, and leaned down to whisper:
"Relax. You gave a speech at an international award ceremony and didn't even flinch. This? This is nothing."

Day pouted.
"Well I didn't have any direct interaction with the audience. No five hundred people lined up watching me shake like a leaf."

Mhok chuckled and gently brushed a thumb across the back of Day's hand, voice low and warm:
"Your fans come because they love your work. But they stay... because they love you. Just be Day. That's more than enough."

Then, without waiting for a response, he kissed Day's temple—natural, as if it had happened hundreds of times before.

Sea and Jimmy were nearby. Both their gazes paused. Jimmy cleared his throat, like someone choking on a full course of romantic mush.

Day slapped Mhok's arm playfully.
"P'Mhok! People are watching!"

Mhok shrugged, unfazed.
"Good. Let them know you're taken. Every fansign someone still asks, 'Is P'Day single?' I've earned a right to be jealous, you know."

Sea turned away, stifling a laugh. The corners of his lips curled regardless. Jimmy, hands in his pockets, glanced sideways at Sea—who quickly blushed and looked away.

That brief exchange seemed to infuse the entire event with life. Not just from the bright lights or the long line of fans—but from these little, real moments.

It was exactly what fans loved about New Dawn: not just the words on the page, but the warmth between the lines. A reminder that love could be both fiction and in real life.

A voice behind them suddenly cut through the buzz:

"What did you say?"
"Ok. I understand. You rest up."

Both Sea and Jimmy turned.

It was June, the head of Communications. Her sleek bun had loosened from running around the venue. Her white blouse was slightly wrinkled. Normally the definition of polished professionalism, she now looked visibly flustered.

She ended the call, turning toward Jimmy and Sea in a rush:
"Our content intern is down with a high fever—admitted to the hospital early this morning. No one's updating our socials. Photos, clips, stories, reels... no one's handling it. Everyone from comms is already booked solid."

Jimmy frowned, about to respond when—

"I'll do it!"

Sea stepped forward without hesitation, eyes bright like he'd been waiting for this moment.

"I used to run the social accounts for my uni's Media Club. I know how to frame shots, write captions, edit quick clips—whatever you need."

June blinked, scanning Sea head to toe—like flipping on a seasoned radar for spotting raw talent.

Her stare was sharp, but Sea didn't flinch.

Finally, June nodded.
"Good. We can only settle with you. You'll cover behind-the-scenes, fan reactions, real-time stories—whatever captures the atmosphere. Just use your phone. Just keep things active across our platforms during the event."

Then she turned to Jimmy, eyes glinting with something amused:
"What kind of perfect interns are you having here? Novel editors who can do everything?"

Jimmy didn't answer immediately. His eyes were still on Sea—who, moments ago, was timidly adjusting Day's mic, but now had his phone out, his entire demeanor transformed.

No hesitation. No trembling hands. No lost expression.

Just clear focus.

Jimmy narrowed his eyes, quietly watching.

And for a second... he didn't recognize him.

But it was Sea.
The same Sea who bowed shyly every morning. The same Sea who made him honey water when his stomach ached. The same one who once submitted a trembling, patchy report, blushing from head to toe.

But now—this Sea was different.

Confident.
Quick.
Assured in what he was doing and doing it well.

A Sea who no longer needed instruction.
A Sea who... shone.

Jimmy's heart tensed.

When did he get this good?
When did he stop standing behind me and start walking forward on his own?

Jimmy didn't like the unfamiliarity of it. He had grown used to a Sea who needed his guidance—his steadying hand. But now... Sea looked like he belonged on a stage all his own.

And just like that, a sharp thought flashed through Jimmy's mind—

After this event... will he leave my department?

Will he realize he belongs in comms, and transfer to June's team?

The idea struck like a pin to the heart.

Jimmy's expression stiffened.

He didn't want to think about it.

Didn't want to think of Sea belonging anywhere that wasn't... next to him.

By the end of the signing, Day bowed deeply to thank his fans, still radiant with joy. Mhok stood beside him, gently blotting the sweat on his forehead. The crowd began to disperse, but Jimmy's mind was louder than ever.

June stepped over, patted Sea's shoulder.

"You did great."

Sea scratched his head, shyly smiling.

Jimmy walked over, expression unreadable, hands tucked neatly in his pockets as usual.

June lingered, flipping through the publisher's official feed.
"You've got an eye, Sea. Clean visuals. Sharp choices. Tight captions. No gimmicks—very polished."

Sea laughed nervously. "I just went with instinct, I guess. I used to run my uni's comms club, so I'm used to the rhythm."

"Oh?" June perked up. "Media background? You studied communications?"

Sea nodded, voice soft: "Yes, I majored in it."

Jimmy's eyes twitched ever so slightly—but he stayed quiet, head tilted, still listening.

June squinted as if trying to recall something.
"Sea... Sea Tawinan, right?"

Sea blinked. "Yes, that's me."

"Ha! I knew your name was familiar. We had your intern application in our department too. Yours stood out! I even flagged it—neat portfolio, strong media campaigns from your uni. But then you never came to the interview."

Sea's eyes flicked toward Jimmy.

June paused.

And then—her eyes widened in realization.
"...Don't tell me—you withdrew to apply for the Teen Novel department?"

Sea didn't reply.

But the soft smile, the way his gaze dropped—he didn't deny it.

Jimmy stood there, and something inside him shifted. Something faintly aching.

June raised an eyebrow and half-smirked.
"Jimmy. You sure you want to keep him? I could really use someone like this on my team."

What sounded like a joke didn't earn a laugh.

Jimmy's voice cut in, low and even:
"P'June, I think you should start compiling today's post-event wrap-up."

His eyes flicked to Sea.

And something in his chest... tugged.

"This person. Mine. And not yours to take."

It came out low, deliberate—somewhere between banter and a warning.

June raised an amused brow.
"Yours, huh? Better hold on tight, Jimmy. When I want someone, I don't always lose."

Sea, meanwhile, stood frozen. Mind blank. His heart pounded.

"Mine..."

What did that mean?

Was it teasing?

Or was it the unconscious reflex of someone who was afraid of losing something... even if they hadn't dared name it yet?

His face burned.

The ride home was... silent.

Jimmy didn't speak. Neither did Sea.

Unlike before, the silence wasn't calm—it was thick, strange, almost suffocating. The car glided forward while the world outside passed in soft smears of headlight and shadow.

Sea glanced sideways.

Jimmy's face, sharp in profile under the red light, was unreadable. His jaw was set, gaze fixed ahead.

Sea wanted to say thank you—for the ride, for dinner, for not denying what June said—but no words came.

He didn't know where to begin.

The car pulled up in front of his building.

Jimmy didn't turn his head. He rested one hand lightly on the wheel and said, in a voice as neutral as if they were in a boardroom:

"Do you want to transfer to the Communications department? I'll sign the papers now. No need to wait until the end of your internship."

Sea froze.

That voice—so calm, so composed—but it felt like a thick pane of glass had suddenly dropped between them.

He turned, mouth open to ask:

"Do you want me to leave?"

But the word want... wouldn't come out.

Because he feared the answer would be Yes.

The tick-tick of the turn signal was the only sound left. Like a countdown to something neither of them could name.

Had I become a burden?
Did I do something wrong?
Do you not want to mentor me anymore?

Thoughts raced in his chest like a windstorm.

He wanted to say something, anything. But all that came out was:

"I... don't know."

His voice was barely more than a whisper.

That answer hung between them, heavy.

Jimmy didn't respond. He exhaled—softly. Maybe tired. Maybe holding something back.

Sea bowed, quickly opened the door, and left the car as if running away.

From his bedroom's window, Sea looked out at the quiet street.

Jimmy's car was still there.

Headlights on. Engine humming.

He didn't drive away.

But he didn't get out either. Didn't look up. Didn't call his name.

He just... stayed.

Five minutes.

Sea watched the taillights blink, then fade as the car turned the corner.

And that's when he realized—

The distance between them had stretched.

Back to where it was that very first day.

Sea stood still.

Jimmy's voice in that car—it wasn't the Jimmy who smiled gently, who read his notes late into the night, who left sticky notes on yogurt.

It was the Jimmy- editor-in-chief- from the beginning.

Cool. Distant. All business.

And for the first time... Sea felt like the star he'd followed all this time was turning its back to him.