It was April 7, 2023, and here I was, standing in the middle of an elegant ballroom in Seoul, dressed in a simple yet flattering outfit Miami had insisted I wear. My nerves felt like they were dancing in sync with the soft classical music playing in the background. This wasn't just any event—it was the Grand Homecoming for Seoul Suntrust International School alumni, hosted at a luxury hotel that looked like something out of a drama. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above me, and polished marble floors reflected the soft, golden glow of the room's ornate decor.

I had to admit, this was surreal. It had been years since I left this place, years since I'd thought about coming back to Korea. And yet, here I was, back among faces that were once my everyday reality.

Break stood beside me, his nonchalant aura in full effect, even though I knew he probably felt as overwhelmed as I did. Well, maybe not—he'd always been cool under pressure, and now that he was a famous singer-songwriter, this kind of scene was practically his element.

I scanned the crowd, spotting a mix of familiar faces from both Performing Arts and Music Performance. It was strange, seeing everyone older, more polished, yet somehow the same. A wave of nostalgia hit me, and I couldn't help but smile.

But the real moment I'd been waiting for came when I saw them—Miami, Jackie, Fang, Lee, and Liam. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt my face light up as they spotted me.

"Clover!" Miami squealed, rushing toward me with her arms wide open. She practically tackled me into a hug, her excitement contagious.

The others followed suit, their voices overlapping as they greeted me. Jackie's calm smile, Fang's quiet but genuine excitement, Lee's playful smirk, and Liam's easygoing grin—it was all so familiar, like slipping back into a moment frozen in time.

We found a cozy lounge area near the corner of the ballroom, and once we'd settled in with glasses of wine, the catching up began.

"So, Clover, how's Philippines?" Miami asked, sipping her wine.

"It's beautiful as always," I said, smiling. "The restaurant's been keeping Papa busy, and I've been helping out here and there."

"Well, it's not as glamorous as your life, Ms. Model," Break teased, raising an eyebrow at Miami.

"Oh, please," Miami said, rolling her eyes but laughing. "Like I could ever compete with Mr. Famous Singer-Songwriter over here."

We all laughed, and the conversation shifted to everyone's accomplishments. Miami talked about her modeling gigs and traveling to different countries for shoots. Then Jackie surprised us all with her news.

"Well, I'm not a model or a singer," Jackie began, her voice steady but tinged with something heavier. "I've taken over my family's business in the US."

"Wait, what?" Liam asked, leaning forward.

Jackie nodded, her expression calm but serious. "My dad passed away last year. As the eldest, I had to step up. It's been a lot, but I'm managing."

The room fell quiet for a moment, the weight of her words settling over us. Miami reached over to squeeze Jackie's hand, and I could see the gratitude in Jackie's eyes.

We moved on to Fang, who talked about his life as a concert pianist. "It's been a whirlwind," he said with a small chuckle. "Lots of practice, lots of travel. But I can't complain."

"A famous concert pianist," Lee chimed in, smirking.

Fang just shook his head modestly, and we all laughed. Then it was Lee's turn.

"Well, I'm a K-pop idol now," he said, as if it were no big deal. "And not to flex, but I'm friends with Seventeen."

"Of course, you are," Break said, rolling his eyes.

Then it was Liam's turn. "Still grinding," he said, grinning. "But things are looking up. I've got a collab with Ed Sheeran coming up."

"WHAT?!" Miami and Break exclaimed at the same time, and the rest of us weren't far behind.

Liam just laughed. "It's still in the works, but yeah. It's happening."

We raised our glasses in a toast to Liam, cheering loudly enough to draw a few curious glances.

Then, inevitably, the attention turned to me.

"What about you, Clover?" Jackie asked, tilting her head.

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around my glass. What was I supposed to say? That I was living a quiet life in Tagaytay, helping at Papa's restaurant and dealing with a rare heart condition that dictated every decision I made?

"I'm..." I started, forcing a smile. "I'm doing okay. Just helping Papa with the restaurant and writing songs when I can."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. I didn't want to dampen the mood with talk of my condition. This night wasn't about me—it was about celebrating how far we'd all come.

Break glanced at me, and for a second, I thought he might say something. But instead, he raised his glass. "To old friends and new adventures," he said, offering me a small, knowing smile.

"To old friends and new adventures!" we all echoed, clinking our glasses together.

As we laughed and shared stories, the air in the ballroom suddenly shifted. Conversations hushed, heads turned, and a ripple of excitement coursed through the crowd. I glanced toward the entrance, curious about what—or who—was causing the stir.

And then I saw him.

Tris Vier Fuentes.

He walked in like he owned the place, his sharp suit tailored to perfection, his every move exuding the kind of confidence only someone at the top of their game could have. Tris had always had a magnetic presence, but now, as a full-blown international performing artist, his aura was almost otherworldly.

I couldn't help but stare along with everyone else. Tris was the most successful one here, the star everyone knew. Even among this crowd of talented alumni, he stood out like a blazing comet. His dark hair was styled effortlessly, and his piercing gaze scanned the room with a mixture of familiarity and detachment.

"Well," Miami muttered, leaning closer to me, "if it isn't the crown jewel of the alumni."

I snorted softly, shaking my head. "Looks like he hasn't changed much."

Break chuckled, sipping his wine. "You're not wrong."

As if Tris' entrance wasn't enough, the scene took another dramatic turn. One by one, some of the biggest names in the Korean entertainment industry began to enter the ballroom.

First came Red Velvet, their elegance and beauty instantly capturing the attention of everyone in the room. Then IU appeared, her radiant smile lighting up the space as if she were performing on stage. Not long after, Cha Eun-woo arrived, his striking visuals making people whisper in awe.

And that wasn't all. More famous K-pop idols and actors followed, each adding to the surreal nature of the evening. It became clear that this homecoming event wasn't just for alumni—it had also become a hotspot for the crème de la crème of the entertainment world.

I blinked, trying to process it all. "What is happening right now?" I whispered to Break.

He smirked. "Looks like Suntrust's alumni homecoming just got a major upgrade."

"No kidding," Miami said, her eyes wide as she tried to discreetly snap photos of Red Velvet.

The ballroom buzzed with energy, everyone either gawking at the celebrities or trying to figure out how they had managed to snag an invite. Meanwhile, Tris had seamlessly joined the growing crowd of VIPs, blending in as though he belonged—and, honestly, he did.

I glanced back at my friends, who were equally stunned by the sudden influx of stardom. Jackie looked calm but intrigued, Fang was quietly observing, Lee was muttering something about how cool it was to see his idol friends in one place, and Liam looked like he couldn't decide whether to fanboy or stay chill.

For a moment, I felt like I was back in high school, sitting in the audience during one of our showcases, watching stars take the stage while I cheered from the sidelines. Only this time, the stars were right here, mingling with us like it was no big deal.

As the excitement settled into a more manageable hum, I couldn't help but smile. This was turning into a night none of us would forget.

The night, already surreal, tipped into the realm of the unimaginable when the buzz in the ballroom escalated to an outright frenzy. I heard a collective gasp ripple through the crowd, and I turned toward the entrance again, wondering what could possibly outshine Tris and the lineup of K-pop royalty.

And then I saw them.

Suga, J-Hope, RM, Jimin, V, and Jungkook. BTS.

My breath caught in my throat, and for a second, I forgot how to exist. They were here. At this party. In the same room as me.

Miami grabbed my arm and squeezed so hard I thought I'd lose circulation. "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God!" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and excitement.

I couldn't even respond. My eyes were fixed on them as they entered with their usual effortless charisma. Each of them looked stunning, dressed impeccably yet casually enough to make you feel like they didn't even try. The room seemed to tilt as everyone shifted their attention to them, whispers and gasps filling the air.

They smiled politely, bowing to the guests as they made their way further into the ballroom. Jin wasn't there, of course—he had enlisted for mandatory military service back in December 2022. But the rest of them...they were real, standing just a few feet away from me.

And then, my gaze locked on him.

V.

Taehyung.

The man I'd spent countless nights watching through my phone screen, the man whose voice had been the soundtrack to my best and worst days, the man who, for a fleeting moment, had noticed me too.

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even blink.

He looked just as breathtaking as always, his presence magnetic and his beauty somehow more striking in real life. His dark hair framed his face perfectly, and his soft yet confident smile made my heart feel like it was trying to leap out of my chest.

Miami nudged me hard, snapping me out of my trance. "Clover! This is not a drill! BTS is here!"

"I know," I managed to croak, my voice barely audible.

"All of them," she added, her eyes wide. "Okay, not all, but most. Oh my God, do you think we can talk to them? Should we go?"

I shook my head quickly, my gaze still locked on Taehyung. "No. No way. I...I can't."

"Why not?" Miami frowned, but then her expression softened as she followed my gaze. "Oh. Him."

She knew, of course. She knew about the DM exchange, about how I still hadn't fully processed the fact that Taehyung had not only noticed me but thanked me for making his day. And now, here he was, in the same room, just meters away.

I couldn't believe it. Even in this moment, with the chance to see him up close, maybe even talk to him, all I could do was watch from afar. My heart felt like it was running a marathon, and for a second, I wondered if my condition was going to betray me in the worst way possible.

"Clover," Miami said softly, her hand still on my arm, "are you okay?"

I nodded quickly, trying to pull myself together. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just...I can't believe this is real."

"Neither can I," she admitted with a shaky laugh. "But this might be your chance, you know?"

I shook my head again, more adamantly this time. "No. I can't. I'm fine just...watching him from here."

Miami sighed but didn't push further, and for that, I was grateful.

So I stayed where I was, stealing glances at him whenever I could, trying to imprint the sight of him into my memory. Because as unbelievable as it was to be here, I knew this moment, this night, was fleeting. And for now, just being in the same room as him, with his presence so tangible, was enough.

The energy in the room shifted when the emcee took the stage again, his voice booming over the chatter of the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're in the presence of so many stars tonight, so let's keep this party alive with a few performances! Up next, we have the one and only Tris Vier Fuentes!"

The spotlight swept across the room before settling on Tris, who stood near the edge of the crowd. A confident smile crossed his face as he made his way to the stage.

"Of course," Miami muttered beside me, rolling her eyes. "Can't have a party without him showing off."

I didn't respond. The emcee's announcement brought the room to a hush as Tris Vier Fuentes took the stage. I watched as he walked confidently under the spotlight, his every movement calculated, his smile perfectly timed. There he was—the man the world adored, the same boy who had once held my heart and then shattered it.

The music started, soft and haunting, and then his voice filled the room. It was as smooth and magnetic as ever, weaving through the melody with a rawness that felt too intimate for the crowd gathered here.

"I was blind, I let you go
Now I see, but it's too late, I know
Your laughter still echoes in my mind
But I'm chasing shadows I'll never find."

I tried to keep my composure, but the weight of his words pressed against me, heavy and unrelenting. It was as if the song was a confession—a plea that tore through the walls I'd built around my memories of him.

And then it happened.

His eyes met mine.

"If I could turn back the hands of time
Rewrite the story where you were mine
Would you forgive the boy who broke your heart
And give me a chance to make a new start?"

For a moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. His gaze locked onto me, unwavering, filled with something I couldn't quite name—regret, longing, perhaps both. It felt like he was singing to me, not the room full of people. The connection was so intense it felt almost tangible, a current running between us that I couldn't ignore.

My breath caught in my throat. Every lyric felt sharper, every note cutting deeper as his expression bared emotions he'd never voiced before. It wasn't just a performance anymore—it was an apology, wrapped in music and directed straight at me.

The crowd faded into the background, their cheers and whistles dimming to a distant hum. It was just Tris and me, a shared history unfolding between us in the spotlight of a grand stage.

My heart ached—not with the bitterness I'd once carried, but with the echoes of something softer, something I thought I'd buried long ago.

As the song ended and the room erupted into applause, Tris lingered for a second longer, his eyes still on me. I didn't know what to do, what to feel. The walls I'd built to protect myself from this exact moment threatened to crumble.

And then, he spoke.

"Thank you," he said into the mic, his voice steady but tinged with raw emotion. "This song is very personal to me. It's about someone I hurt deeply—a girl I was too foolish to hold onto when I had the chance. Her name is Clover Delight Peewee."

Gasps rippled through the crowd, breaking the spell.

Miami nearly choked on her wine. "What did he just say?"

I froze. The words felt like a punch to the chest, not because of the revelation itself—I'd long since made peace with Tris—but because of the attention it drew.

My friends stared at me with wide eyes. Jackie mouthed, "Is he serious?"

I wanted to sink into the floor. I wasn't ready for this kind of spotlight. Tris looked out at the crowd, his gaze searching, but I remained rooted in place, unsure what to do.

My heart raced, my chest tightening as I felt every pair of eyes in the room turn to me. Miami was gaping at me like I'd grown a second head, and my other friends exchanged wide-eyed glances, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from Tris.

He stood there under the spotlight, his eyes still on me, as if he was waiting for something—for me to react, to say something, to do anything. But I was frozen, my emotions tangled into a knot I couldn't begin to unravel.

Before I could react further, a commotion erupted near the stage. The crowd parted as RM and Jungkook—yes, Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook of BTS—climbed onto the stage. The excitement in the room surged, and for a second, I thought I was imagining it. But there they were, larger than life, casually walking toward Tris like they owned the stage.

RM reached Tris first and gently took the mic from his hand. "Wow," he began, his deep voice effortlessly commanding the room. "That was a beautiful performance."

Jungkook, holding another mic, leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Yeah, really heartfelt."

"Sorry, Tris, we have a little interruption here," RM said with a grin, addressing the crowd. "We've got a question."

The audience erupted into laughter and cheers, and even Tris looked momentarily startled.

Jungkook took the mic, his voice laced with mischief. "Yeah, we do. Can someone tell us where Clover Delight Peewee is?"

The room erupted into chaos, with people turning in their seats, craning their necks, and whispering among themselves. Miami smacked my arm repeatedly, her excitement practically vibrating off her.

"There she is!" someone yelled, and my blood ran cold.

All eyes turned to me, including RM's and Jungkook's. The spotlight shifted, illuminating my face, and I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks.

"There you are," Jungkook said, pointing at me with a grin that could disarm anyone. "Clover, huh? We've been curious about you for a while now."

RM nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Especially our Taehyung. He's been wondering for years why you never replied to his message."

The room erupted into laughter, gasps, and chatter. My friends stared at me in stunned silence, their jaws practically on the floor. Miami looked like she was about to faint.

I wanted to disappear. To melt into the floor and vanish. But at the same time, I couldn't help but sneak a glance toward the far side of the room, where Taehyung stood.

He was watching me.

Our eyes met, and my breath caught. His expression was calm, unreadable, but there was something in the way he tilted his head slightly, a flicker of curiosity—or perhaps recognition.

This wasn't just a party anymore. It was a spectacle, and I was somehow at the center of it.