#answer me 1994
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ladymapple · 1 year ago
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Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes?
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not-ur-average-agere · 11 months ago
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the crow (1994) stimboard
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gifs by me! feel free to use :)))
requested by: @thecouncilacesideblog <3
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cloudly-moonlight · 2 months ago
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Falling in love with your fanfic of Agustin and Mirabel’s French communicate 💙✨ can you please do Agustin and Mirabel watching the stars together that reference to the Lion King or Wish please
I headcanon that after Mirabel’s fail ceremony, Agustin was the first person to comfort his daughter and sneak her out of the house to watch the stars together and let her know that the stars will be there to guide her and Agustin would tell her a story about the lion king
Take all the time you need to write if you are doing anything special 💙✨
I hope you like it, I combine wish and the Lion king together,
Request by: @starlightmeadowbloom
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Little Mirabel sat in the corner of the nursery room, curled up in a ball, sobbing, tonight was a disaster, her gift ceremony didn't go as planned, the golden glow that usually pulsed through the Encanto had been dim and strained, focusing hope on her, only to flicker and die, her door had simply… vanished
The disappointment on her Abuela Alma’s face was etched into her memory, a sharp, deep line of worry creasing her brow, her lips a thin, disapproving line.
Then there were the looks from her family, a mixture of fear, curiosity, and a thinly veiled pity, and the villagers, the whispers.
"Poor Mirabel… what does this mean?" "Will the magic fade because of her, is she adopted, did her dad or mom cheat?"
The memory of Abuela Alma snatching the candle away, ignoring Mirabel as she ushered everyone out, promising everything was fine while Mirabel stood alone on the stairs, burned, It felt like the whole world was collapsing around her and she was at fault.
The silence that followed felt heavier than the mountains surrounding the Encanto, Mirabel had expected cheers, applause, a new room bursting with wonder just for her, instead, she had the cold, echoing emptiness of a room untouched by magic, and the crushing weight of failure.
After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, her father, Agustín, slipped inside.
He didn't say a word, just sat quietly on the floor beside her, then, gently, he pulled her onto his lap, he didn't try to minimize her pain, didn't say, "It's okay, you'll get a gift later."
He simply held her, his arms warm and strong, a solid anchor in the swirling storm of her emotions.
"I have no gift," Mirabel finally choked out, the words a fresh wave of sobs.
Agustín just held her tighter. "I know, mi dulce niña, I know."
He listened, really listened, as she poured out her heart, she spoke of the pressure, the expectations, the fear that she had somehow broken the magic.
He didn't interrupt, didn't offer platitudes, he just held her and let her cry, offering the silent reassurance of his presence.
After a while, when her sobs had subsided to sniffles, Agustín wiped her tears with his thumb. "Come with me, Mirabel," he said softly.
He led her out of the nursery, past the twinkling, magical rooms of her sisters and cousins, and up the winding stairs to the roof of Casita.
The air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of jasmine and blooming Chrysanthemum. The moon hung like a silver coin in the inky sky, and the stars blazed with a fierce, silent light.
Agustín sat down on the edge of the roof, gesturing for Mirabel to join him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
"Look up there," he said, pointing to the celestial tapestry above. "Do you see that cluster of stars, just to the left of the moon?"
Mirabel squinted. "Yes, I think so."
"Those stars," Agustín said, his voice low and soothing, "they tell a story, a story of a young lion cub, born to be king, he loses his father, and he runs away, thinking it's all his fault, he forgets who he is."
Mirabel knew the story of the Lion King but still listens no matter how many times.
"But eventually," Agustín continued, "he looks up at the stars, and he sees his father, who reminds him of who he truly is, he remembers his responsibility, his strength, and he goes back to reclaim his kingdom."
He paused, looking at Mirabel with gentle, knowing eyes. "Even without magic," he continued, "Simba still had a heart full of courage, kindness, and love. He still had everything he needed to be a good king."
Mirabel looked up at the stars, listening to his words, it wasn’t a gift ceremony, but it felt like her own private ritual, she didn’t have a magical room to claim as her own, but the vast, starlit sky felt like a belonging, something no one could take from her.
Then, he pointed to a particularly bright star, shimmering above the mountains.
"That's your wishing star, Mirabel," he said. "Whenever you feel lost or sad, look for that star. Close your eyes, make a wish, and know that everything will be alright."
She gazed at the star, its light unwavering and pure. Hesitantly, she closed her eyes and made a wish, a small, whispered plea for acceptance, for understanding, for a little bit of magic to find its way into her life.
When she opened her eyes, she gasped.
The star seemed to shimmer, to almost… wink. just for a moment, it pulsed with a brighter light, a gentle wave that seemed to emanate directly towards her, she could have sworn she heard a faint laughter in the wind.
A small, fragile smile touched her lips, it wasn't a gift, it wasn't a power, but in that moment, under the vast expanse of the starry sky, she felt a connection, a sense of belonging.
She felt the star wave to her, a silent promise that even without a gift, she was still loved, she was still a Madrigal, and she was still Mirabel. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
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And done, I hope you like it, I had to put them together, wish and the lion king but I hope I did good, thanks for the request.
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erineverly · 2 years ago
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the  confession  alone  is  more  than  enough  to  throw  erin  completely  off  guard,  but  it’s  the  sound  of  the  all-too-familiar  voice,  echoing  in  the  foyer  of  her  two-bedroom  condo  again,  after  what  feels  like  an  eternity,  that  makes  the  muscles  in  her  legs  stiffen  and  the  hair  on  the  nape  of  her  neck  stand  up.  her  natural  instincts  urging  her  to  pull  him  into  a  hug,  assure  him  that  everything  will  be  okay  in  the  end,  pretend  he’s  still  hers  and  she’s  his  —  that  it’s  the  two  of  them  against  the  world,  the  way  it  used  to  be  a  few  years  back.  oh,  how  easy  it  would  be  to  forget  about  everything  and…  but  the  more  rational  part  of  her  wants  to  just  stand  here,  linger  in  the  doorway  for  a  while  longer,  and  pretend  she  hadn’t  heard  him,  wishes  the  ground  beneath  her  feet  would  open  up  and  swallow  her  whole,  get  her  out  of  this  strange,  uncomfortable  situation.  why  would  he  say  this  now?  why  did  he  have  to  say  this?  
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clearing  her  throat  as  she  contemplates  her  response,  she  absently  brings  one  of  her  now  shaking  hands  to  her  dainty  necklace  and,  to  occupy  her  fingers  with  something,  anything  that  will  help  her  fight  off  the  urge  to  reach  for  the  redhead,  begins to  fidget  with  a  small,  heart-shaped  pendant.  she  opens  her  mouth,  but  closes  it  almost  immediately,  her  heart  pounding  away  in  her  throat,  keeping  her  from  forming  any  coherent  sentence.  for  someone  who’d  been  subconsciously  dreaming  of  something  akin  to  this  moment,  she  feels  completely  lost  and  unprepared,  nowhere  near  ready  for  this  kind  of  conversation.  the  gifts  and  letters  that  he’s  been  sending  her,  all  the  flames  that,  perhaps  involuntarily,  they  have  slowly  rekindled,  every  little  thing  that  she’s  been  trying  to  ignore  for  the  sake  of  their  significant  others  and  her  own  peace  of  mind…  they’re  standing  right  in  front  of  her  now  and  she  can  no  longer  run  away  from  the  feelings  that  she’s  so  desperately  tried  to  suppress  for  the  past  few  months.
gaze  dropping  to  the  floor,  examining  the  pink  nail  polish  on  her  toes,  she  struggles  not  to  get  emotional,  not  to  overthink  the  meaning  of  this  unexpected  visit.   ❝   𝐚.𝐱𝐥,   ❞   she  whispers,  a  soft  plea  ringing  in  her  voice  —  not  here,  not  now,  let’s  not  go  there…  she’s  just  managed  to  put  her  life  back  together,  to  move  on,  or  at  least  that’s  what  she’s  telling  herself.  if  they  have  this  conversation,  it  will  leave  her  nothing  but  a  shell  of  the  woman  she  is.  but  she  can’t  just  close  the  door  in  his  face,  tell  him  to  leave  because  it’s  her  weekend  with  sebastian,  scold  him  for  complicating  every  little  thing,  remind  him  that  he  should  be  writing  letters  and  sending  flowers  to  a  different  woman.  god.  she’s  never  been  strong  enough  to  stay  away  from  him.  she  doesn’t  want  to  stay  away  from  him.   ❝   would  you  like  to  come  in?  it’s  almost  dinner  time.  i’m  making  ‘ghetti  and  meaty-baws,   ❞   she  offers  shyly,  a  hint  of  a  smile  on  her  lips  because  that’s  how  sebastian  calls  them.  meaty  baws.  she  thinks  it’s  adorable.   ❝   speaking  of  bastian,   ❞   she’s  quick  to  change  the  subject,  although  it  breaks  her  heart,   ❝   he’s  been  grouchy  all  day.  i  think  he  might  be  coming  down  with  something.  he  keeps  complaining  about  his  throat  and  has  a  stuffy  nose,  watery  eyes,  sneezing…  you  know  the  drill.  but  i’m  sure  he’ll  be  so  happy  to  see  you,   ❞   she  explains,  opening  the  door  a  little  wider  and  inviting  the  singer  to  come  in  with  a  subtle  hand  gesture.   ❝   see  the  pile  of  blankets  on  the  couch?  he’s  in  there  somewhere.  would  you  like  something  to  drink?  we  have  apple  juice.  i  can  make  you  coffee  or  tea?   ❞
@rcsechild​
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universe2snumber1fan · 13 days ago
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OMG WHAY ARE YOU WATCHING SF 1994 ON? and is it free…. i already watched it 7 times or so but that was only when it was available on netflix a few months back… also.… i adore vega as a character but just know there’s major beef and controversy behind the man who plays him and i think it’s insane…. but.. vega!!!!!!
i try my hardest to separate the amazing character from the actor :p
-🐍🌹🎭
^[i don’t know if i put the emojis in the same order but whatever :0]]
I just have it on DVD. I think the movie's currently on peacock if you want it digitally. Also what? Controversy? You know what, don't tell me. It's best if I don't know. And I do mean it nerdy artist! Do NOT tell me!
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demisexualemmaswan · 1 year ago
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babygirl I’m crying about media you’ve never even heard of
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mamawasatesttube · 2 years ago
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Which of the writers do we have to hurt about the abomination in the house of el thing actually I've never read the comics
i have not actually read n52 superboy and i probably will not for a while bc i already know i'll hate it, but that would be scott lobdell.
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vinnymauro · 11 months ago
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top 5 horror films !!
ahh yes thank u!!
1. IT (2017)
2. the lost boys (1987)
3. get out (2017) (an exception to my no psychological horror tbh)
4. ready or not (2019)
5. scream franchise
ask me top 5 + a topic and i’ll tell you!!
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princekirijo · 2 years ago
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Speaking of June 15th having a lot of events it's also The Lion King's (aka best movie of all time 😤) anniversary
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comradecowplant · 1 year ago
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wait what they're remaking The Crow? how did i not know this...
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theglassofmiddleearth · 1 month ago
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Imagine Reader! Having a bad day and watching TV shows with Task force 141!
Camera Guy! Au, Female reader.
Masterlist
Previous - Next
--------
Reader! who just shuts down when they're angry/upset. They weren't necessarily mad at the 141 but they stopped talking all throughout breakfast, sparring and lunch. There was no crying, no snippy remarks. She still salutes, nods and responds through her ‘face’ (she still does her judgement face. She skips dinner to set up her little plan to feel better.
Reader! who binge watches a TV show when they're tired/stressed, anxious or upset. For example, F.R.I.E.N.D.S or XOXO Kitty. Reader! just needs to turn her brain off so she doesn't dwell on some stupid thing that's bothering her.
The rest of the team just blink at the screen from behind the couch as they come into the common room. Ghost blinking and looking at Soap for answers but soap just blinks too.
Price who muses while handing reader a plate of dinner.
‘I remember when they were taping this show. (F.R.I.E.N.D.S)
Reader who blinks while spooning some rice into her mouth,
‘Wasn't that in like 1994?,
‘Yeah how old were you?’ John asks, offhandedly.
‘Don't know if you wanna know that Cap.’
Reader laughs as john runs a hand over his face. (He's hiding a grin and a bit of a blush.)
Price who sits down on the couch on the furthest side so he can man spread.
Kyle plopping down with a cup of tea for her, 
‘Hey love, are Monica and Chandler together yet?’ 
Reader! Nods and grins, 
‘Mhm! Wanna watch their wedding episode with me?’ Reader! all bundled up wriggles over making room.
Soap moving to the couch, lifting up Readers! legs and placing them in his lap.
Ghost moves to the armchair and grunts, ‘Phoebe is the most annoying character. And Ross and Rachel WERE on a break.’ 
Reader! nodding emphatically,
‘I agree. Joey and Chandler are the least annoying characters. Ross is an ass and Rachel is so manipulative.’ 
Kyle just grins and asks Reader! quietly if she wants popcorn.
Reader! shakes her head, tugging his sleeve, urging him to stay.
Reader! who falls asleep on the couch after the episode ends. Ghost who stays and sleeps on the arm chair. (He wakes easily. Any noises and he's up.)
Soap gets a blanket from his room and covers Reader! with it.
Reader who wakes up the next time and is fine again. The task force doesn't mention anything because they're just there. They're a team, they have to stick together. (Totally not because they think she's their person
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moonriizing · 9 days ago
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invisible string | s.jy (18+)
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Less than a month before your wedding, a stranger calls, introducing himself as Jay Park—the exact name of the man you once believed to be your soulmate. Driven by a reckless sense of fate, you abandon everything and fly to Italy to meet him, convinced this is destiny’s final chance to set things right.
Genre: destination au, mistaken identity, smut Pairing: Sim Jaeyun/Jake Sim x afab!reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), MDNI, lying Notes: 21k words. Loosely based on the 1994 film, Only You. I noticed that long fics are uncommon in 5th gen fics here on Tumblr, but I'm shooting my shot with this one. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally nor claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol, that is me. lol xoxo, cal.
Enjoy~
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The flickering candlelight shone on your faces as you, your sister, and Katie huddled around the Ouija board, the air cold from the summer storm raging outside your house. A shot glass, upside down and resting on the board, was the only thing standing between you and whatever spirit you had just summoned.
“Are you here?” Katie whispered, looking around slowly and nervously.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then slowly, unnervingly, the glass inched toward YES.
You all yelped, immediately shushing each other. “Keep your hands on the glass!” your sister hissed, eyes wide. “If we let go, the spirit might get mad.”
Your fingers clung to the glass tighter, your pulse hammering in your throat. Katie exhaled sharply. “Okay, okay. Um… what’s your name?”
The glass trembled beneath your fingertips, dragging across the board. J. Then O. Then N.
“Jon?” you echoed.
“Jonathan?” Katie guessed.
Your sister shushed you both again, her face serious. “Don't interrupt. It might stop talking.”
A chill ran down your spine. You weren’t sure if it was from the candle’s wavering light or the idea that there really was something with you in the room, something unseen but present.
One by one, you and Katie took turns asking questions—How did you die? Are you a good spirit? Will we be rich someday?—each answer making you shriek, then dissolve into nervous giggles. But when the laughter faded, the heavy silence that followed always felt chilling.
Then, feeling reckless, feeling thirteen, you blurted out the one question that had been on your mind for years. “Who’s my soulmate?”
Katie gasped. Your sister shot you a look. “Are you sure you wanna ask that?”
But the glass had already started moving. It slid to J. Then to A. Then to Y.
You barely breathed as you read the letters aloud. “Jay…”
A rush of excitement fluttered in your stomach, getting more nervous. “Do you know his last name?”
The glass stilled for a second. Then it moved again. P. A. R. K.
“Jay Park,” you whispered. You repeated the name to yourself, the way it rolled off your tongue, the way it already felt right. Destiny had spoken. The universe had handed you a name, a direction, a soulmate. And from that night on, you chased it.
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You had a comfortable life—a good job, a cozy home, loyal friends, and Sunghoon, your kind, dependable boyfriend. He’d proposed a year into your relationship. Your family adored him, your friends admired him, and you felt… happy, for the most part.
But something was off. The thought of marrying him felt too easy, like a decision you were supposed to want, yet couldn't fully commit to. After the proposal, you confided in Katie, admitting you weren’t sure if you loved him enough to take that step.
“It’s not the right time yet,” you lied, knowing it wasn’t time that was the problem. You loved the idea of stability, the way Sunghoon made everything seem simple, like life would follow a clear, predictable path. But something about that terrified you more than it comforted you.
“Maybe you’re just scared,” Katie had said. “But he’s a good guy, and he loves you. You should talk to him.”
You hadn’t, though. Instead, you bottled it up, relieved that Sunghoon hadn’t told anyone about the proposal yet. You said you’d think about it, and that’s all you’d done for the last few days.
Now, lying in his bed, his arm wrapped around you, you tried to picture forever. It should’ve felt comforting, but it didn’t.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.
“Yeah. I was just thinking about us,” you replied, almost in a whisper.
His voice fell when he spoke, and guilt twisted inside you. “I know it’s sudden. If you’re not ready, I understand.”
“No, I’m fine. Let’s do it,” you replied briskly, smiling at him and hiding the fact that you couldn’t look him in the eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asked softly, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I don’t want to force this on you.”
Your dearest Sunghoon—so gentle and thoughtful. You forced another smile. “I’m sure, Hoon. Let’s get married.”
The warmth of Sunghoon’s presence should reassure you, but instead, it felt like a tether pulling you further into something you didn’t know how to escape. When he kissed your forehead, you wished you could love him the way he deserved—but the words 'Let’s get married' tasted hollow, even as you forced yourself to say it.
Days passed quickly, and suddenly, the wedding was just twenty days away. The venue, guest list, and reception were all set—only the invitations and the final dress remained. Your mother pushed for a custom gown, but you insisted on RTW, wanting at least one decision to be entirely yours.
At the boutique, Katie and your sister helped you pick dresses. It was fun at first, but with every gown you tried on, the unease in your stomach deepened.
“Okay! This is the tenth one,” your sister called, and as you stepped out, the room fell silent and everyone had their hands over their mouth. 
Curious, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sure enough, you even ended up gasping at the beautiful image reflected back to you. The dress was perfect—elegant, breathtaking. It fit like a dream, like it belonged to someone sure of what they wanted.
“You look stunning!” Katie gushed, hugging you.
Your sister teared up. “My baby sister is getting married!”
But as you stared at yourself, the lace felt suffocating. Your stomach churned. The boutique walls seemed to close in. Your breath turned shallow, ragged. Panic gripped your chest. Then the room began to spin, forcing you to close your eyes.
“Excuse me,” you muttered, pushing past them. You barely made it to the sink before throwing up.
Katie and your sister rushed in after you. “Are you okay?” Katie asked, concern etched in her face.
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” your sister blurted.
“No, of course not,” you said, shaking your head. Your hand instinctively touched the implant in your arm, reassuring yourself it was still there. “No, I’m not.”
“Oh, dear,” your sister sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you stepped out of the restroom. “It’s the stress, isn’t it?”
She might have been right. Stress often manifests this way for you. But they didn’t ask again until you were sitting at a nearby coffee shop, sipping a citrus drink to calm your nausea.
“You’re still not sure about this, are you?” Katie asked gently.
You hesitated and they could see it in your eyes. “What’s bothering you?” your sister asked softly.
You sighed. “I don’t know if I’m overthinking or if I really just don’t want this.”
Your sister’s gaze softened. “If you need more time, take it.”
“It’s not time,” you admitted. “It’s him. I love Sunghoon, but I never pictured us getting married. Now that it’s happening, it all feels… wrong.”
Your sister’s expression turned serious. “Then don’t. It’s not just nerves if it doesn’t feel right.”
Katie took your hand. “Talk to him. Whatever happens, choose what makes you happy.”
You promised them that you would, but you couldn’t. Not when you came home to him smiling brightly at you, kissing you tenderly and holding you in his arms as warmly as he always did.
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The next day at the office, you were in your boss’s office to get some paperwork signed when the secretary’s phone started ringing. You ignored it at first, knowing it wasn’t your job to answer. But after the third ring, you picked it up, just in case.
“Mr. Lee Heeseung’s office. How can I help you?”
“Hi. Is Heeseung there? He’s not picking up his cell, and I need to talk to him urgently,” came a clear voice on the other end.
You grabbed a pen and pad. “He’s out for lunch right now, probably left his phone behind. But I can pass on the message.”
“That’ll work. Thanks.”
“No problem. Can I get your name, so I can let him know who called?”
“Jay Park. Just tell him I need to chat.”
You froze, fingers tightening around the receiver. “Sorry—what was your name again?”
“Jay. Jay Park.”
The name echoed in your head like a spell conjured straight from the past. Jay Park. Your Jay Park. The one the Ouija board had spelled out ten years ago. The name you had whispered to yourself on sleepless nights, half-laughing at the absurdity of believing in it, half-wishing it meant something.
Somewhere along the way, you had let it fade. You had convinced yourself it was just a childhood whim. But now—out of nowhere—he was real. On the other end of this call.
“Jay Park,” you repeated, voice barely above a whisper.
“Uh… yeah?” He sounded mildly amused. “Listen, I was supposed to meet Heeseung, but I overslept, and now I’ve got a plane to catch. Can you let him know I called?”
“A plane?” you asked, gripping the receiver tighter. “Where are you going?”
“The airport,” he replied casually. “Heading to Venice.”
“Venice?!” you blurted, trying to figure out how far Venice was from where you were. You didn’t know for sure, but you knew it was very far.
He chuckled, probably at your stunned silence. “I know. It’s a shame we couldn’t meet, but unavoidable. Anyway, gotta run. Can I count on you?”
Don’t go yet. “No,” you blurted before quickly correcting yourself. “I mean, yes. Yes, of course.”
“Cool. Thanks a lot. Bye.”
“No. Wait—” But the call had already ended, and all that ever made it back to you was the beeping tone of the call being hung up.
You lowered the phone onto the desk, your hands trembling. Then, in a single breath, you dropped your folder onto Heeseung’s desk and sprinted out of the office.
By the time you reached your own desk, you had already dialed Katie. She picked up after two rings.
“I found him!” you burst out.
“Who?” she asked, sounding distracted.
“Jay Park!”
She paused, then said, “Remind me how I know a Jay Park?”
“Jay Park! The guy from the Ouija board!” you practically shouted, adrenaline coursing through you.
A beat passed before her excited squeal echoed through the phone. “Wait. You’re telling me you found your soulmate Jay Park?”
“Yes! He’s friends with my boss, and he’s heading to Italy—right now!”
“Italy? Why Italy?”
“I don’t know!” you squealed, pacing wildly. Your heart was racing, your skin tingling, your mind whirring in a thousand directions. You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. When you spoke again, your voice was steadier, but the conviction was the same.
“Katie… I think this is it. The sign. I’m in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Oh my god. Girl, no,” she deadpanned.
“Katie, my dearest friend, we have been through everything together.”
“Yes, and you are not an impulsive person. Don’t start now.”
But that was the thing, wasn’t it? You had spent your whole life making careful, rational choices. Always choosing the safe, predictable path. And now, standing on the edge of something wildly uncertain, the thought of staying still terrified you more than the thought of running.
“I love you. I’m going to Venice.”
“Wait—”
You hung up, hands shaking as you pulled up flight tickets. The screen loaded painfully slowly, your pulse hammering with every passing second. Maybe this was insane. Maybe you were making the biggest mistake of your life. But something about this just felt right.
But maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what you were meant to do.
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When you were thirteen, you played Ouija with your sister and Katie during a blackout. It was supposed to be just for fun, but when you asked the board for your soulmate’s name, the glass moved—spelling out Jay Park.
As a teenager, you half-believed it. Enough to spend hours searching the internet for a Jay Park that felt like your Jay Park. There were plenty, but what were you supposed to say? Hey, a spirit spelled out your name on my Ouija board. Are we soulmates? It was ridiculous. Katie had laughed at you then, telling you that if it was fate, you wouldn’t have to search—he’d find you eventually.
Now, pacing around her living room, you pointed at her dramatically. “This is it, Kate. The moment you were talking about! I forgot all about him, and now, just when I’m questioning everything, he appears.”
Katie watched you with her arms crossed, unimpressed. “This is madness.”
You stopped mid-step, the playful grin slipping as you turned to her. “I know.” Your voice was quieter now, more uncertain. “But what if this is my chance?”
She sighed, giving you a long, hard look, clearly hoping you’d snap out of it. But when you didn’t, she exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But I’m coming with you. I’m not letting you run off to Europe alone for some random guy.”
Joy burst through you, and before she could change her mind, you threw your arms around her. “Good! Great! We’re going to Venice!”
Katie groaned. “I hate you already.”
Later that evening, you came home to find Sunghoon lounging on the couch, feet propped up, half-asleep in front of the TV. He looked up when you walked in, his face lighting up as he beckoned you over. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“Crazy. How was yours?”
He exhaled dramatically. “Oh, you would not believe it. First, I had to assist a seven-hour surgery where the patient suddenly went into cardiac arrest, and while we were reviving him, the head neurosurgeon decided it was the perfect time to grill me about my suturing technique—because, you know, that’s obviously what matters when a guy’s flatlining on the table.”
Your eyes widened. “What the—?”
“Oh, it gets better,” he cut in, shifting so he could see your face properly. “After that, I went to the university to teach a class of third-years, and right in the middle of my lecture, one of the students passed out—just full-on face-planted onto the desk. Turns out he was pulling three all-nighters in a row, living off nothing but caffeine and biscuits. Poor kid woke up to me standing over him and thought he had died and I was some kind of angel.”
You burst into laughter. “No way.”
“I swear.” He nodded solemnly. 
“You do look like an angel though,” you mused, kissing his cheek.
“I spent half an hour convincing him that no, he was not dead, and yes, he should consider eating a proper meal from now on.”
You shook your head, still laughing. “Okay, that’s insane.”
“Not as insane as yours, I bet,” he said, his smile softening as he studied your face. “What happened?”
Your laughter faded as nerves twisted in your stomach. You’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times on the way home, bracing yourself for anger or heartbreak. But when you turned off the TV and faced him, you saw only warmth in his eyes.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” you started softly, “and I would never want you to think you deserved anything less than the best. But… I don’t think I can marry you, Sunghoon.”
For a moment, silence settled between you. Then, to your surprise, he let out a quiet breath and cupped your cheek. “I know.”
The words hit you like a punch to the chest. “You do?” you whispered.
He nodded. “I’ve known since the moment I asked you.”
“How?”
He took a deep breath and kissed your knuckles. “Because it wasn’t just you. I’ve felt it too—this… feeling that something wasn’t right. I kept brushing it off, thinking maybe I was just overthinking things, but then I saw it in you too. And I realized, no matter how perfect we seemed, something was missing.”
Your throat tightened. “Oh, baby…” You curled into him, pressing your face against his shoulder.
“I love you,” he murmured. “I know that for sure. And I kept hoping that if I proposed, that strange feeling in my gut would go away.”
“Did it?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.
“It got worse.”
A shaky laugh escaped you. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”
Sunghoon exhaled, his fingers brushing your hair. “I don’t regret us. Not for a second. But I think we both deserve more than just… settling.”
You nodded, blinking back tears. “I love you, Sunghoon.”
“Just not enough to spend the rest of your life with me,” he finished for you.
Your silence was answer enough. His lips pressed against your forehead, lingering there, before he pulled back with a sad smile.
“I’m sorry I asked,” he said. “It wasn’t fair to you.”
“I’m sorry I let it get this far,” you admitted. “I almost dragged you into an unhappy marriage.”
His expression softened. “I wouldn’t have been unhappy with you. I just… would have always felt like something was missing.”
“Yeah.” You swallowed hard. “Me too.”
For a long moment, you just sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing this was one of the last times you would. It was strange, how love could still be there—real and warm—but not enough to hold you together.
Sunghoon let out a slow breath. “So… what do we do now?”
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You told Sunghoon you were going to Italy with Katie for some soul-searching, leaving out the part where the ‘soul’ you were searching for might actually be your soulmate. He only nodded, telling you to have fun, and after a calm discussion, you both decided not to call off the engagement just yet—only to cancel the wedding date.
A part of you ached at the thought of what you were leaving behind, but another part felt relieved. You weren’t wrong. This wasn’t where you were meant to be. So that night, you held onto Sunghoon, whispering sweet nothings into the darkness, both of you pretending this wasn’t the beginning of the end.
The next morning, he drove you and Katie to the airport. There were no dramatic goodbyes, no messy emotions, just an exchange of quiet I love you’s that somehow felt like a farewell. He pulled you in for one last hug and a small kiss on your temple.
As you walked away, you resisted the urge to turn around, knowing he was still watching. And as the plane lifted off, a thrill surge through you, something unfamiliar and intoxicating. Fear. Freedom. Possibilities.
Whatever it was, you knew there was no turning back now.
The flight to Italy was long, but you didn’t feel tired at all. Instead, you were giddy, filled with excitement about searching for your soulmate. Your boss had called your story ‘mental’ when you told him, but he still gave you Jay’s Instagram, warning you that Jay mostly kept to himself and rarely used electronics.
“Why do you think he loves Italy so much? It’s the vintage charm. He goes every year,” Heeseung had explained.
You had thanked him for his help, but he waved it off, saying it was the least he could do since this was your first real vacation in the three years you’d been with the company. You even asked for a photo of Jay, but Heeseung couldn’t find one. Jay’s Instagram was just filled with landscape shots and street photography. Apparently, he does photography part-time and had been contributing to the magazine ever since its launch, but his work was mostly behind the lens, not in front of it.
“Shouldn’t you have known if a Jay Park was contributing to your magazine?” Katie had teased.
“Katie, I’m an accountant. I don’t know anything about who’s behind the production side.”
When you landed, you wasted no time pulling up Jay’s profile. A fresh post showed a hotel in Venice, and you and Katie rushed to get there. But speed was impossible in a city of canals, so you settled for soaking in the scenery, capturing snapshots as you floated past elegant bridges and centuries-old buildings.
“Whatever happens with this search, we have to go sightseeing,” Katie gushed. “It's so beautiful I could literally pass out. Look at that gargoyle sculpture thing!”
You giggled, finding it cute how easily impressed she was. A few minutes later, you arrived at the hotel and a porter helped you off the boat, carrying your luggage with a polite inquiry about where you were headed.
At the front desk, Katie immediately asked about Jay Park.
“Jay Park?” the elderly receptionist asked back. In heavily accented and broken English, he said he does not give out information about their guests.
“Look, sir,” Katie persisted, leaning in with determination. “We came all this way to see him. If you could just tell us if he’s here, that would be enough.”
You tugged at her sleeve. “Let’s just check in. His post was only an hour ago—he’s probably still here.”
“Fine,” she muttered. Then, turning back to the receptionist, she added, “But just so you know, my best friend thinks this guy is her soulmate. So, if you’re withholding information, you’re basically interfering with fate.”
“Katie!” you hissed, scanning the lobby to make sure no one overheard.
“The boatman said there are five branches of this hotel. We need to know if we’re even in the right one!” she insisted.
Just then, a smooth voice cut in. “Excuse me, ladies. May I help?”
You both turned to see a handsome Italian man watching with amusement. He had the kind of charm that made heads turn, confident but not overbearing.
“Yes, thank you!” Katie said, exhaling in relief. “Could you please tell this kind old man that my best friend’s soulmate is Jay Park, and we just need to know if he’s here?”
A flicker of amusement crossed the stranger’s face, but he dutifully translated your story to the receptionist. The two of you stood there gawking cluelessly. If he was translating for real or talking crap about you in Italian, you wouldn’t have known. You just trusted this stranger to do your work for you.
After a brief exchange, he turned to you. “It looks like Mr. Park has already left the premises.”
“Left? He was here just an hour ago,” Katie questioned.
“Indeed he was, but he left just a few minutes ago. I’m afraid you missed him.”
The receptionist said something else and the Italian stranger translated smoothly. “He stayed the night and left just after breakfast.” Then, the receptionist held up a key with a number on it, adding one last detail.
“He also said your friend is heading to Rome.”
“Rome?” you repeated, heart pounding.
The elder man nodded with a smile. “Yes, Rome.” 
You thanked them both and got ready to leave, pulling up your phone to see if Jay had a new update. But just as you were stepping out of the building, the Italian man called after you.
“Ladies!” 
You turned, and he approached with an easy smile. “I am under the impression that you need a place to stay for the night.”
You hesitated. “Thank you, but we really need to find this guy.”
“Yes, but Rome is a long way from here.” He gestured around with a flourish. “It’s Venice. Wouldn’t it be a shame to leave without seeing its beauty?”
“He’s right,” Katie said, already walking toward him. “We could use a tour. And a nice handsome local to show us around.”
They exchanged flirtatious looks, and you sighed, giving in. Maybe you could use a little break from the chase. You were tired, anyway.
Andre, as he’d introduced himself, took you on a motorboat to another hotel. The ride was short, the cool breeze skimming over the water as the city lights flickered against the rippling surface. Soon, your luggage was being hauled out of the boat and into an elegant, upscale hotel. You and Katie booked a suite with a Queen-sized bed to share, and the moment she told you to head up first, you wasted no time making a beeline for the bathroom.
A hot shower worked wonders, washing away the fatigue from the long journey. By the time you stepped out, towel-drying your hair, you found Katie sprawled on the bed, giggling at her phone.
“Where’s Andre?” you teased, eyeing her amused expression.
“Oh, he left,” she replied with a sly grin. “Said he had to take care of something at his store.”
“His store?”
“Yep. A dress shop.” She wiggled her brows. “He must be doing pretty well, ‘cause he paid for this room.”
You paused mid-step. “He paid for the room?” Katie hummed, still grinning. You raised an eyebrow. “And you just let him?” 
“It’s fine, he likes me.” She flipped onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands. “A girl shouldn’t buy her own drinks at the bar, and a lady definitely shouldn’t pay for her room in Italy.”
You snorted. “Sounds like you’re cashing in on ‘pretty privilege.’” You nudged her foot off your lap as you walked to the dresser for the hairdryer.
“Hey, his words, not mine,” she shot back, sticking her tongue out.
Rolling your eyes, you turned on the dryer, running your fingers through your damp strands. “So, has Mr. Andre invited you to dinner yet?”
“No, but,” she sing-songed, “he did say he’d be back at seven to take us to an opera house.”
“Ooh, fancy.”
“Right?” Katie wiggled her eyebrows. “You should come.”
You and Katie spent the rest of the day sightseeing, hopping from one landmark to another, filling your phone with endless snapshots of the city’s charm. You tried a variety of food that left you both stuffed but happy as you wandered through the nostalgic streets. By nightfall, Katie was dressed in a sleek black bodycon dress, ready for the opera. You clapped, approving her choice, and took a few pictures for her Instagram.
She struck a few playful poses, flashing sultry smirks and mischievous winks.
"Are you sure you don’t want to come?" she coaxed, swiping through the pictures. "It might be fun! You never know what might happen."
"I’m fine, Katie," you reassured her. "After all that walking, I’m beat. Besides, I’m sure Andre would appreciate having you all to himself tonight."
She giggled. "You're right, but I’d hate to leave you all alone."
"Just go, hun. And make sure he’s not a creep."
Katie laughed. "If he was, would you come with me?"
You made a show of heading for your suitcase. "Let me grab something nice, and I’ll join—"
"No, no!" she interrupted with a dramatic wave of her hand. "I’m a big girl. I can handle myself."
You smirked. "Seems like you’re the one who wants some alone time with him."
She giggled again, clearly unbothered. "Well, he is cute."
Shaking your head, you plopped back onto the bed, waving her off with a teasing have fun! The moment she left, you flipped on the hotel TV, settling in for a cheesy romcom. It wasn’t the most thrilling way to spend the night, but it did the job of passing the time.
Halfway through the movie, drowsiness crept in. You were just about to doze off when your phone buzzed.
Jay just posted a photo!
You shot up, tossing the remote aside. Heart pounding, you opened the app. A single image filled the screen, accompanied by a cryptic caption: “Two.”
Confused, you studied the photo—a collection of pastel dresses. When you tapped the location, your stomach sank a little. A dress shop in Rome.
“He really is in Rome,” you sighed, standing up to pack your stuff quickly. As soon as the day breaks, it’s GO time for you and Katie.
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What were the odds that the dress shop Jay visited was owned by Andre? Maybe 0.10%—unless he secretly owned every boutique in Italy. But as luck would have it, he owned that specific one, which was how you found yourself cruising to Rome in his sleek convertible, seated in the back while he and Katie shamelessly flirted in front of you.
Not that you were paying much attention—you were too busy scrolling through your phone for any updates.
“How much longer till we get there?” you asked, stretching your legs. Two hours in the car had you itching for a break, so when they pulled over by the roadside, you stepped out for some air. The road stretched endlessly ahead, mostly empty, but the surrounding scenery was breathtaking. Rolling hills, sunlit fields, and rustic vineyards—it was like something out of a postcard.
“Just thirty more minutes,” Andre replied, gesturing toward an approaching crossroad. “If we take this route, we should arrive sooner.”
Katie, who had borrowed your phone to stalk Jay’s feed, suddenly shot up from where she’d been lounging on the grass. “How much sooner?”
“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”
“Perfect, let’s go now,” she declared, shoving the screen toward you. “Our mystery man is at this church.”
Your eyes widened as you grabbed the phone. "Two minutes ago?!"
"I know! Let’s move!"
Your heart pounded, caught between her infectious excitement and a nagging sense of guilt. Katie didn’t have to come along on this ridiculous chase, yet here she was, urging you forward like she always did. Since you were kids, she had been there through every wild idea, every leap of faith, every heartbreak—cheering you on, even when she didn’t share your beliefs about fate and love.
With Katie, you had come to understand that love in friendship was just as powerful, just as unwavering.
“Is this it?” Katie asked as the three of you stood before an imposing church.
“Yes. Basilica of St. Agnes,” Andre confirmed. “Same one in the photo.”
You compared the images, your gaze sweeping over the church’s grand façade. Even after confirming it was the right place, you couldn’t help but be awed by its sheer beauty. Tourists wandered about, snapping pictures, their voices echoing through the open square.
“Something’s off,” Andre murmured.
“What do you mean?” Katie asked.
He pointed at the entrance of the church. “It’s closed. No visitors allowed in.”
Your stomach dropped slightly. “Why?”
“I’ll go find out,” Andre said, walking off in search of an answer.
You and Katie remained where you were, scanning the crowd for any sign of Jay Park—not that you even knew what he looked like. All you had to go on was a name and a vague assumption that he was probably Asian. Yet, even as you studied every possible contender, you couldn’t make a single guess.
“If the church is closed, does that mean he never made it inside?” you asked, glancing at Katie.
“For all we know, he could’ve left ages ago,” she sighed, frustration creeping into her voice.
When Andre returned, he confirmed that the church was undergoing renovations. You longed for a break, but Katie insisted on looking around first. You humored her, even going so far as to ask random Asian men if their name was Jay Park—unsurprisingly, you had no luck.
As lunchtime approached, you finally admitted defeat and suggested heading to a nearby restaurant. Normally, pasta could lift your mood, but today, it tasted bland.
You were starting to feel like coming here was a bad idea. A part of you is still giddy for the adventure but seeing Katie made you feel like you were bothering people for something ridiculous. Even Andre, a complete stranger, had been roped into this wild search, all because of your stubborn belief in fate.
You shook your head, pushing the guilt aside. Instead of feeling like a burden, you reminded yourself to be grateful. Katie was here because she cared. And while Andre’s interest seemed to lie more with her than with you, he had stuck around too.
You ate in silence, scrolling through Jay’s feed again. His photographs were breathtaking. You wondered if he was as beautiful as the images he captured—if he was as delicate as the subjects of his photos. Did he take them at random, or was there meaning behind every frame?
As you mindlessly scrolled, something caught your eye—an old post from last year, taken in Italy.
So he really does come here every year, you realized, your heart racing.
You kept scrolling, and a pattern emerged. The very first picture from that trip was of a hotel in Venice, captioned simply, “1.” The next was a dress shop in Rome—“2.” Then the church you had just visited. The sequence continued, leading to a restaurant, also tagged in Rome. You scrolled back another two years. Different photos, same places.
“He travels in a pattern,” you blurted out.
Katie and Andre stopped mid-flirt to look at you. “Who?”
“Jay. Look at this!” You thrust your phone toward Katie, your excitement bubbling over as you explained the pattern you’d discovered. She caught on immediately.
“So if you’re right, he’ll be at this restaurant next?” she asked, her eyes shining with anticipation. You nodded confidently, feeling a surge of hope.
Katie turned the phone toward Andre. “Do you know this place?”
He read the location and nodded. “I do. It’s a local favorite, about fifteen minutes from here.”
Since it was already past lunchtime, you assumed Jay would go there for dinner. Andre confirmed that the restaurant opened at 3 PM, making it primarily a dinner spot.
After checking into a hotel downtown, you planned to rest before the evening. But you were feeling restless, and instead of lying around, you decided to explore the city. Katie offered to join, but you urged her to take a break. She didn’t argue, which only confirmed what you already knew—she preferred to spend time with Andre. Not that you minded. It was nice to see her having fun, rather than just being dragged around by your whims.
You wandered through charming streets, going in and out of shops, mostly window-shopping but picking up a few souvenirs along the way. Andre was adamant that you visit his dress shop and told you its location. He said he’d call them to let them know you were coming. You felt grateful for his help in this journey, and decided to take him up on it.
The moment you stepped inside, the staff greeted you by name. Within minutes, a few attendants gathered around, treating you with the kind of care reserved for VIP clients. As it turned out, Andre had instructed them to help you pick out something stunning for the evening.
Accepting such generosity from someone you had just met felt daunting, but you were grateful nonetheless. The staff encouraged you to choose your favorites, and you eagerly tried them on, feeling giddy at the prospect of finally meeting Jay.
An hour later, you returned to the hotel with a large box containing a dress far bolder than you’d planned. You pouted as you walked in, immediately catching sight of Andre and Katie looking cozy on the second bed of your suite.
“I really appreciate this, Andre, but why make me go through all those trouble if you were just gonna pick the dress for me anyway?” you asked, feeling both shy and exasperated.
Andre raised his hands in innocence and pointed at Katie. “It was me,” she admitted, grinning. “To be fair, you still got the dress you chose,” she added, looking far too pleased with herself.
“Yes, but not the color!” You huffed. “I almost freaked out when they insisted I take this one.”
Katie sauntered over and lifted the lid, revealing the dress inside—red satin, draped elegantly over white feathers.
It was a really nice dress. The original cream color you had chosen was soft, classic, safe. But in red? It was something else entirely. Vivid. Captivating. Sultry.
Dinnertime arrived before you knew it. Katie helped you get ready, lacing you into the dress and fussing over your makeup. You stared at your reflection, feeling nervous. The dress was daring and bold but your delicate makeup felt like it didn’t match the fire of the outfit.
“What are you talking about? You look amazing!” Katie reassured you. She grinned, adjusting the straps on your shoulders. “The goal is to get noticed, hon. Red will definitely grab his attention. And unless Jay Park is blind, you’ll be the star wherever you go tonight.”
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You sat by the window of the restaurant, curiously looking around the quiet place. You are now convinced of Andre’s influence, getting you a table easily even with the long queue outside. You wondered if Jay was already here or if he was outside queueing. 
The thought crossed your mind to message him but that made your stomach twist. You had flown across the world to find him, yet the idea of actually reaching out felt more terrifying than anything else. And what would you even say?
“Hey. I followed you all the way to Italy because I think you're my soul mate.” Cringe.
For now, you were content with just catching a glimpse of him. You’d decide what to do next after that. Surely you’d know if he was the one, right? It wouldn’t be something you could explain, but it should feel right.
“Now where are you, Mr. Park?” you muttered to yourself as you refreshed his feed, heart fluttering when you found his most recent upload—a table filled with food, one that looks similar to your table. He’s here! 
Your fingers tightened around your phone as you examined the photo, scanning for any identifying details. In the corner, you spotted a glimpse of navy blue fabric—a sleeve, barely visible. You leaned back, gaze flickering around the restaurant, searching for a navy blue jacket. Several of them were dressed in similar shades, their jackets blending into the dim ambiance.
Then you looked at the picture again and wondered if instead of him, maybe it was whoever he was with. Maybe he wasn’t alone. With that thought, you could narrow down your search to tables with two people in it.
You sighed, shaking your head at yourself. “I’m a creepy stalker,” you muttered under your breath.
The waiter soon arrived with your order and you took the opportunity to ask him. “Excuse me, but… is there a Jay Park dining here tonight?”
The waiter blinked, then broke into a knowing smile. “Jay Park? Ah, Mr. Park! Yes, he’s here.”
“Are you sure it’s him?” You couldn’t help but question.
The waiter chuckled confidently, “Madam, Mr. Jay Park always makes his reservations a year in advance. He is here tonight. Right there.” He pointed toward a table halfway across the room.
You followed his gesture, and your eyes landed on two Asian men seated together. Both wore navy blue—one in a sharp suit, the other in a button-down shirt. Your breath caught in your throat, but your excitement wavered.
Which one was Jay?
You turned to ask the waiter again, but he was already walking away.
You turned to ask the waiter again, but he was already walking away. Sighing, you picked up your fork, pushing your food around your plate as you stole glances in their direction. From here, you could faintly make out their features.
The one in the suit had medium-length hair, styled in a comma hairstyle that was trendy nowadays. The other had longer hair that reached the nape of his neck. A mullet, maybe? You weren’t sure. They looked similar in build, and from the way they were seated, you couldn’t tell which one was taller.
So one of them was Jay Park. They look great, but now what?
They stayed for a while and you stayed too, mostly because you didn’t know where to go and you were hoping they’d somehow glance your way and you’d manage to take a better look at their faces. But since you only stole glances instead of flat-out staring at them the whole time, you wouldn't have known if either of them noticed you at all.
By the time you finished your fifth glass of wine, a tipsy warmth had spread through your skin. Katie had been checking in through texts, and as you lazily tapped out a response, your fingers moved a little too freely over the screen.
Katie: What do they look like? You: I’ll take a picture of them after paying.
You waved down the waiter for the bill, fumbling slightly with your bag as you reached for your card. But before you could hand it over, the waiter smiled and said, “No need, madam. Mr. Jay Park has already covered it.”
Your stomach plummeted and your head snapped toward their table, pulse racing only to find that was already empty. The chairs were neatly tucked in, the wine glasses half-finished. They were gone.
He paid for your food. He noticed you. How can he pay for your food and NOT talk to you at all? That’s just ridiculous. 
Without thinking, you bolted out of the restaurant, the cool night air hitting you like a shock. Your eyes darted wildly over the crowd, searching for navy blue amidst the crowd of tourists and locals. And then, you spotted him—the man in the suit, walking ahead in an unhurried pace.
“Hey.” you called out to him, but he was too far to hear your voice over the noise of the city. You pushed forward, weaving through people, determined to catch up.
As you did, your heel got caught in a crack in the pavement. You wobbled, nearly toppling over, cursing under your breath as you yanked at your foot. The damn shoe wouldn’t budge, and he was getting farther away, disappearing into the sea of moving figures.
“Fuck it.” you grunted, kicking your foot free, abandoning the shoe entirely as you took off barefoot, chasing after him.
The uneven pavement pricked at the soles of your feet, but you didn’t care. You ran and ran, until finally—he was gone. The streets stretched before you, unfamiliar and strange. The city surrounding you was lively, but all you could feel was the disappointment and defeat sinking into your chest.
He was right there. Just almost within reach, but you’d been too shy to approach him, now he was gone. What was the point of all this, then? Did you really come all the way here to find him, and assumed it would all magically fall into place?
Your foot throbbed where the missing shoe should have been, and that reminded you that it was a shoe your sister had gifted you. The thrill of the chase had fizzled into something hollow, leaving you standing there, lost in a city that no longer felt exciting. You felt ridiculous. Heartbroken over someone you had never even met.
With a sigh, you slumped down onto the edge of a fountain and pulled out your phone, fingers trembling as you dialed Katie. It didn’t take her long to find you.
“We were close by. What happened? Where’s your shoe?” she asked, her worried gaze sweeping over you.
You exhaled shakily. “He’s gone.”
“Who, Jay? Did you meet him?” she asked, but you shook your head, staring blankly ahead.
That’s when a man approached you, asking in Italian if you were alright. He was holding your abandoned shoe with a smile playing on his lips. Amidst the words you didn’t understand, you caught a chuckle as he referred to you as Cinderella.
“Your shoe!” Katie exclaimed at the man. “Thank you, sir! Thank you!”  she beamed, while you remained dazed.
The man’s eyes lit up. “Ah, finally, someone who speaks my tongue,” he said, kneeling beside you. “Allow me?”
“Thank you,” you mumbled, barely paying attention. He carefully pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping your foot, brushing away the dirt from your reckless chase.
“My, is that you, Prince Charming?” Katie teased, making the guy chuckle.
“You look gorgeous, by the way. Mind giving me your name?” he asked smoothly.
His question went past you as your turned to Katie. “Should I just DM him?” you murmured, anxiety creeping into your voice.
“Honestly, I was wondering what was taking you so long to do just that,” she replied, smirking.
“You’re right. That would’ve saved us a lot of trouble,” you sighed, pulling out your phone and staring at the screen like it held all the answers.
Katie nudged your shoulder. “So what happened at the restaurant?”
“Well…” You hesitated, replaying the events in your head. “He paid for my meal. That has to mean he noticed me, right? But if he noticed me, why didn’t he talk to me? Was he just out there paying for everyone’s dinner tonight?”
“Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Prince Charming interjected, “but may I ask how long you’re staying in the city?”
You didn’t look up from your screen, leaving Katie to respond. “Not long. We’re here looking for someone.”
“Would you tell me his name? Maybe I know him. The Asian community isn’t that big in places like this.”
Katie shrugged. “I don’t know… He’s a tourist, not a local.”
“Oh, I’m a tourist too, so—” he started, but you suddenly stood up.
“I did it. Let’s go. I can’t be here when he replies. I’d freak out,” you blurted, grabbing Katie’s wrist and dragging her toward the car. “Oh! Thanks a lot, by the way!” you called over your shoulder, offering him a quick bow.
“Wait!” He rushed after you, stepping in front of the car door to block your way. “I didn’t catch your name.”
You reached for the handle, unimpressed. “I didn’t say it.”
“Well, I’d love to know it.”
“Thanks for finding my shoe, sir, but I really have to go.”
His lips twitched. “Then at least tell me who you’re looking for. If I can’t have your name, I’ll take that instead.”
“Who is it then? The guy you’re looking for? I’ll take that if you can’t tell me yours,” he insisted. 
You sighed in frustration, staring straight at him. You gasped when you realized who he was. “It’s you.”
He backed away slightly. “You know me?”
“No, not really, but…” You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. “At the restaurant. I saw you there.”
A smile curled his lips, his sharp cheekbones lifting with amusement. “Yeah, I saw you there too.”
Your breath hitched, exhilaration coursing through you. “I’m actually looking for Jay Park,” you admitted, pulse racing. “He paid for my dinner.”
His jaw dropped for a split second before he quickly recovered. “That’s funny because…” He let out a short laugh. “I’m Jay Park.”
Your knees nearly buckled. The rush of wine, adrenaline, and disbelief swirled together, making your head spin. Before you could stumble, his arms caught you, steadying you on your feet. His hands were warm against your skin, his eyes wide with concern.
“Whoa, are you okay?”
You swallowed hard, gripping his forearm for balance as you stared at him—really stared at him. “Yeah,” you murmured, still breathless. 
“It’s just… I’ve been looking for you since I got here.” Your voice wavered. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been searching for you way longer than that.”
Jake felt a pang of guilt for lying, but the truth could wait. If he told you now, you’d get in that car and disappear from his life forever. He’ll just tell you the truth later.
So he smiled, tilting his head slightly. “Well,” he chimed, “I guess you found me.”
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Rome at night was magnificent, and you were reveling in it as you walked the cobblestone streets with Jake, who you now believed to be Jay. You had no idea of his pretense, but you were on cloud nine, convinced you had found what you came for. He was everything you had dreamed of, and considering he had found you while you were chasing someone else, you couldn't help but believe fate was behind the whole thing.
“Accountant? That’s cool. I work for a fashion brand.”
You hummed. “Let me guess… shoes?”
He chuckled. “What gave it away?”
You shrugged. “I’m not sure, but you were pretty delicate with my foot tonight, and you even mentioned it wasn’t the right size. That was true, by the way. These were gifts, and they’re a size too small.”
“They look beautiful on you either way,” he chimed.
You scowled at him, though you couldn’t quite suppress your smile.
“And I’m a photographer for the brand,” he added. “Not a designer or anything.”
“Photographer, huh? Yeah, I heard you were.”
Jake stepped over a short fence enclosing a neatly trimmed lawn, then reached out to help you over. You hesitated for a second before taking his hands, letting him pull you in.
“Please tell me you don’t have this weird fixation on…” You paused, pursing your lips before adding, “…feet.”
He laughed loudly, tossing his head back. “For a first date, that’s a pretty big question.”
You chuckled. “This is a date?”
“I hope so,” he murmured, tilting his head as he studied you. A warmth spread through your chest. “And to answer your question,” he continued, smirking, “no. Some feet are pretty, but no, that’s not my thing.”
“I see. Good to know.” You sat down on the lawn, and he followed suit, stretching his legs out beside you.
Jake propped himself up on his hands, then nudged you lightly. “Come here.”
You leaned in without hesitation, resting your head on his shoulder. The night sky stretched vast and deep above you, the stars hidden, but the moon glowing bright. Wisps of clouds drifted lazily across it, painting soft streaks in the dark.
“That’s pretty,” you murmured, admiring the waning moon.
“It is,” he agreed. “But it’s prettier in Positano. By the beach, with the stars and the sea breeze.”
“You’ve been there?” you asked, instinctively leaning closer to his warmth.
“Yeah, once. A long time ago, during a short break in college. I’ve come here several times since, but I never really went back there; I was mostly just here for work.”
“I see. Your Italian is really good.”
“Well, I come here often. One of our designers lives in Rome. He holds a showcase every year, and I always come to take the photos.”
“So… you’re busy?”
He shook his head. “Not anymore. The show was earlier today. I’m officially off the clock.”
You hummed in acknowledgment, letting the quiet settle for a moment. Jake relaxed beside you, resting his cheek against your hair.
“Take me to Positano,” you murmured, trying to sound confident despite the shyness in your chest.
He hummed, nuzzling into your hair slightly. “I’ll take you tonight if you want me to.”
You scoffed, nudging him playfully. “Tomorrow, maybe?”
“Tomorrow then.”
You smiled to yourself, but a thought tugged at the back of your mind, prompting you to sit up and turn toward him. “Right. Earlier tonight, at the restaurant.”
Jake straightened slightly. “What about it?”
“You paid for my food. Did that mean you noticed me?”
He exhaled, a low chuckle escaping his lips. “Are you serious? Of course, I noticed you. Ever since you walked in, actually. I could barely keep my eyes off you.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I was eyeing you all night.”
He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “If I had known that, I would’ve approached you. But I was with a friend, and I didn’t want to disturb you. Plus… I didn’t think you’d be alone all night.”
“Why is that?”
Jake shrugged, his lips lifting into a smile as he gazed at you with warmth and admiration in his eyes. “You were too beautiful. It was hard to believe you were alone in that restaurant.”
You couldn’t help the grin that formed on your lips. “Well, we should be grateful you picked up my shoe then.”
“I know,” he chuckled, exhaling like he had narrowly escaped something. “I was actually on my way back to the restaurant to see if I could talk to you, but then I found you running around and leaving a shoe behind like Cinderella.”
You giggled, shaking your head. “Quite a story.”
“One for the books, if you ask me,” he agreed, smiling, his dreamy eyes fixed on you. 
You met his gaze, caught between feeling self-conscious and utterly seen, as if he could stare at you forever. And the way he looked at you like you were something precious, something to be cherished made your heart swell.
“Do you believe in fate?” he asked, his voice low and thoughtful.
You snorted. “Are you seriously asking me that? Me, the person who flew all the way here because I believed in fate a little too much?”
You had told him everything: the Ouija board, the search, how you had followed him just because you’d answered a call that wasn’t meant for you.
“Touché,” he shrugged, lips curving into a smile. They looked so full, so inviting, even under the moonlight. You stared at them for a second too long, wondering if they were as soft as they appeared.
“Would you like to try and see?” he asked, catching your gaze on his lips.
Your breath hitched. “Huh?”
Heat rushed to your cheeks at his indirect invitation, and before you could compose yourself, he tapped his bottom lip. You instinctively bit your own in an attempt to mask your shyness, but it only revealed your hesitation.
Then he leaned in. His intention was obvious, with your lips set as his goal. You could tell him no, dodge, even make a move to refuse, but you didn’t. Instead, you leaned forward, meeting him halfway.
Your lips brushed, then pressed together, soft—just like you imagined they’d be. But as he moved, his kiss grew firm, insistent, claiming yours in a slow, deep pull that sent warmth coursing through your veins. Instinctively, your hands found his neck, fingers curling at his nape as you surrendered to the moment, eyes fluttering shut.
When he finally pulled away, you opened yours to find his beautiful brown ones gazing right back at you. He smiled, and your heart swelled.
“Hi,” you blurted out, brain momentarily short-circuiting.
Jake laughed, then stole a brief kiss—quick, playful—before pulling you back into his arms.
It was past midnight when you finally parted, lingering at your door, neither of you willing to let go. His fingers brushed against yours even as he talked about tomorrow, and you kept saying "yes" to Positano, over and over, as if the promise of it wasn’t already sealed between you.
If it weren’t for Katie scolding you for leaving the door wide open, you might have spent the entire night just standing there, lost in each other’s eyes.
“See you in the morning,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you rested your head against his chin.
“See you in the morning, Jay.”
You felt him freeze at the name, his expression flickering for a split second before he smiled, saying nothing. Instead, he waved, taking a few steps backward before finally turning to leave.
As soon as the door clicked shut, the giddy rush bubbled over, and you twirled in place, unable to contain it.
Katie chuckled from the couch. “You look obscenely happy.”
“Thanks. I am,” you admitted, a proud smile stretching across your face as you stepped into the bathroom for a quick wash, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your skin.
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The morning was beautiful from your window, but sadly, you were set to leave Rome today for the beaches of Positano. You were excited and it seemed like Katie was too because she was the first to drag her stuff out of the room. 
A hotel attendant helped with your luggage, leading you down to the parking area, where two sleek cars and two equally gorgeous men were waiting.
“Good morning,” Jake greeted, opening his arms just as you ran into them. “Are you excited?”
“Can’t wait.”
He chuckled and tapped your nose affectionately. Glancing over at the other car, Jake asked if they were ready too. Andre raised a thumb in response.
“We’ll be right behind you,” he told Jake, who waved before ushering you into the car.
The ride was lively, filled with music and wind whipping through your hair. Jake’s camera rested in the center console, and when you asked if you could use it, he handed it over without hesitation, walking you through the settings. Once you got the hang of it, you turned the lens on him, snapping pictures as he drove.
Noticing this, he started posing dramatically, making you giggle.
“You look great, Jay,” you commented, flipping through the shots.
“I’ll take pictures of you later,” he promised, reaching over to press a kiss to your hand.
Positano unfolded before you in a breathtaking display—lush greenery, vibrant cliffs, and the sparkling sea stretching beyond them. Compared to Rome, it was quieter, more provincial, yet no less stunning. Jake mentioned your hotel was right by the beach, and after a few more winding roads, you arrived. The driveway was expertly lined with tall trees on each side, giving it a majestic entrance.
“Food!” Katie declared the moment she spotted the hotel restaurant. “Great, because I’m starving.” She grabbed your wrist and dragged you along, leaving the men to handle the check-in and your luggage.
You ordered a feast, and before long, Jake and Andre joined you at the table, both noticeably lighter without their bags.
“Miss Destiny,” said Andre, referring to you by the nickname he’d coined for you as he sat next to Katie. “I hope you don’t mind if Katie and I share a room.”
You cocked an eyebrow at Katie, who smiled sheepishly. “Oh, come on. You have Jay,” she reasoned, pouting. “You won’t be alone.”
You met Jake’s gaze, and he gave you a small nod. “If you’d rather have your own room, I can book another,” he offered.
“No, it’s fine,” you replied, even as the thought of sharing a room with him so soon made you nervous.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his hand resting lightly over yours on your thigh.
You placed your free hand on his arm, offering him a reassuring smile. “Yes. I don’t mind.”
“Alright.”
The food was, as expected, incredible. Katie had picked the restaurant’s best-selling dishes, earning her praise from both Jake and Andre. You were especially impressed by how familiar Jake was with the cuisine and language. Despite his earlier claim that he only visited Italy for work, he seemed to really like it here.
Later, as you wandered the beach together, he continued to share small facts about the seashells you picked up, his camera never straying far as he snapped random pictures of you. You listened intently, amused by his little trivia moments.
“That one’s different,” he commented, taking a shell from your hand for a closer look. “It’s not usually found here. Must’ve been carried in by the current.”
“It looks like you,” you mused, holding it up beside his face for comparison.
He grinned. “How?”
“The color. It’s got the same deep brown as your eyes. This shell is you, Jay.”
Jake laughed, taking the shell and tucking it into his pocket. “I’ll keep it then. Souvenir from the best vacation of my life.”
You scoffed playfully. “You’re such a flirt, Mr. Park.”
“That’s because you’re pretty, Miss,” he shot back, pulling you snugly against his side.
You giggled, slipping your arm around his waist as you continued walking, the waves crashing softly in the distance.
At some point, you managed to steal his camera again, snapping pictures of him as he stood against the backdrop of the sea. He looked regal through the lens, but even the camera couldn’t quite capture what you saw in real time. He was breathtaking, like the sea breeze and the view right before you. He was gorgeous and golden, like the sun that was setting down the horizon.
“Look,” he said suddenly, pointing toward the sunset as he stopped in his tracks. You followed his gaze, taking in the golden hues painting the sky.
Without thinking, you leaned into his chest, letting his warmth wrap around you as silence settled between you. None of you were talking, tired from goofing around all afternoon and just utterly speechless by this—the quiet, the beauty, the understanding between two people who had stumbled into something that felt impossibly perfect.
Yet, in the back of your mind, a small fear was lurking. This moment felt too good, too perfect, and you didn’t want it to end. You wished you could stay here forever, pressed against him, watching the sky change colors until night fell and the sun eventually rose again.
“Would you be surprised to hear that I might be falling in love with you?” Jake asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant—like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
“Yes,” you admitted, tilting your head slightly. “But it would make me happy to hear it too.”
His heartbeat was steady beneath your cheek. “I like being here,” you murmured. “Right by your side. It feels right. It feels good. And I don’t think I’m gonna let anyone take this away.”
Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head, making you look up. On impulse, you reached for him, capturing his lips in a soft kiss.
“Would you stay?” you whispered against his mouth.
He lifted your chin, deepening the kiss just enough to seal his answer before pulling back slightly. “I’ll be wherever you are,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “Wherever you want me to be.”
And so, as the last traces of sunlight dipped below the horizon, you kissed again, understanding, without needing to say it, that this moment wasn’t just fleeting. It was the start of something inevitable. Something fated.
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Days with Jake blurred into a dream of sun-drenched adventures and stolen kisses. You went boating, scuba diving, hiking, and cruising along the coast in Andre’s small yacht. If you weren’t taking pictures of each other, you were tucked away somewhere cozy, his lips moulding with yours. In the privacy of your suite, you were tangled together beneath the sheets, talking about each other’s lives, strengths and fears, childhood memories, favorite songs, and the kind of futures you had always imagined. Five days in Positano had you realizing you had never told so much about yourself to anyone until now. 
He photographed you endlessly, claiming the camera loved you almost as much as he did. And you, oblivious to the truth, still believed he was Jay Park—the person fate had written into your story.
Jake, on the other hand, found it harder to maintain the lie. The closer you got, the heavier it sat on his chest. He told himself it shouldn’t matter. A name was just a name. But you spoke about destiny with such conviction, as if the universe had carefully arranged every thread of your lives to lead you here. You still believed that thread was tied to Jay, but Jake wanted to believe it was tied to him. Maybe it was. Maybe fate had simply used another name to bring you together. He wanted to believe that when you eventually find out, you’d understand. 
But when you looked at him like this, like you were certain that he was the Jay Park of your dreams, he wasn’t so sure anymore. What would happen if you found out?
“Jay, where are we going?” you asked as he led you through the dense bushes.
“You’ll see.”
Faint orchestral music drifted through the air, growing louder with each step. Beyond the hedge, golden lights shimmered, illuminating a grand estate that looked more like a palace than a house. Silhouettes of elegantly dressed guests moved through the gardens, their laughter mixing with the music.
You tightened your grip on Jake’s hand. “Please tell me we have an invitation for this.”
He barely glanced at you before chuckling. “Of course not. We’re not Italian socialites.”
Your jaw dropped. “We’re gatecrashing?”
He pressed a finger to his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’re just a couple of lost tourists who took a wrong turn looking for the bathroom.”
“Yeah, no. I’m going back.”
“Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Oh, it’s currently having tea with my common sense. Let me go.”
But Jake didn’t let go. He just grinned and kept walking, tugging you along with him.
You exhaled sharply, scanning the lavish scene. “I have a feeling you’ve done this before.”
“For once, you’re wrong,” he said, too cheerfully. “This is my first time.”
Your head snapped toward him. “Wait—so you don’t have an exit plan?”
“Have you heard of spontaneity? You should try some.”
You scoffed. How dare he say that to you, of all people. “I literally flew to Italy on a whim.”
Jake straightened his tie and smoothed his jacket. You did the same, thanking the fact that you were both out for a fancy dinner tonight and your nice clothes are helping you blend in easily with the crowd.
With an exaggerated bow, he held out his arm. “Welcome to the Baron’s Ball, my lady. Shall we?”
Despite yourself, you giggled, slipping your arm through his. “Lead the way, my lord.”
Inside, the grandeur was almost dizzying. Gowns and suits shimmered beneath the glow of a massive chandelier. There was an actual orchestra playing a waltz, and while some guests lingered by the edges of the room, others twirled effortlessly at the center.
Jake maneuvered through the crowd with ease, nodding and offering brief greetings as though he belonged here. The casual confidence made you feel a little less like an imposter—until he steered you straight toward the dance floor.
“What are you doing?” you hissed under your breath.
He only squeezed your hand in reassurance. “We can’t pass up a chance to dance at a swanky party,” he whispered in your ear, kissing the side of your head right after and leaving you warm and nervous.
“Good evening,” a passing gentleman greeted, and Jake nodded smoothly in return.
“Good evening,” he replied, his posture relaxed, his charm effortless.
That’s when you realized—he’d been doing this all night. A nod here, a smile there. Enough to make you look like you belonged. And somehow, against all logic, it was working.
The moment you reached the dance floor, Jake pulled you into position, guiding you effortlessly into the same graceful stance as the other couples. One hand settled gently on your waist, the other laced with yours, while you rested your free hand on his shoulder, your thumb unconsciously stroking the nape of his neck.
“Relax, love,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “You got me. We’ll be fine.”
His voice was a melody of its own, putting you at ease. You closed the gap between you, pressing your ear on his chest as you swayed. Just like how it had always been ever since you met him, you felt the fulfillment of belonging to something, to someone. It put your heart at ease.
You had been right to book that flight, and fate had been generous to let you pick up that call. Everything in your life had felt uncertain for so long, but now, with him here, it was as if the universe had finally put things into place, you were right where you were supposed to be. 
“Is this destiny?” he asked. You lifted your head, smiling as you met his gaze. He was already smiling too, cheekbones lifting and eyes crinkled at the corners.
“It is,” you said softly. “Because if it isn’t, then it shouldn’t feel this right, Jay.”
His smile faltered for just a second—so brief you might’ve imagined it—before he masked it with a kiss to your forehead. “I’m just asking because I’m not big on destiny and soulmates and all that stuff. But a friend told me that everything you do, everywhere you go, everyone you meet, you meet them for a reason. The reason was destiny. Do you think so too?”
You nodded. “I always have. I believe people are placed in our lives on purpose. Every friend we’ve lost, every enemy we’ve made, every person we’ve loved and stopped loving. Even the stranger at the grocery store or the student scrolling through his phone on the train—we were meant to cross paths. Sometimes we play a role in their lives, sometimes we don’t. But every meeting happens because it was supposed to. And we begin in a random place, navigating through people and relationships and places until we find where we belong.”
“That’s beautiful.”
You smiled, tiptoeing to press a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s even more beautiful now that I’ve found you. This… this is where I belong.”
His arms tightened around you. “I feel the same,” he whispered. “Does that mean everything that lead up to this moment doesn’t matter anymore? I mean, we’re here now. We’ve found each other.”
The music shifted before you could think of a response. People started cheering and heading for the dance floor, cramping the space. Someone bumped into you, throwing you off balance, but Jake caught you immediately.
Your heart pounded as you took in the scene. Everyone was moving into formation. Everyone except for you two.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” you muttered. The music had paused, and the dancers stood poised, waiting for the cue to begin. You glanced around anxiously. “Should we leave?”
Jake only grinned. “Relax. It’s a cotillion. Just blend in.”
Before you could argue, the music resumed—and the dancers sprang into motion with eerily coordinated formations and synchronized steps. Jake twirled you, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Dance, love! Dance like this is your last night in Italy!” he beamed.
With a breathless laugh, you gave in, mirroring his exaggerated, silly dance moves. The embarrassment melted away in the absurdity of it, but it wasn’t long before you noticed heads turning. People were starting to watch you.
“The guy in the red suit,” Jake said under his breath, “I think he’s a guard. Or a butler. Or something.”
“What?” You followed his gaze and spotted a man flipping through what looked like a guest list. Your stomach dropped.
Jake leaned in. “When he comes this way, we run for that door.”
Your head whipped toward the exit he was pointing to. “Wait, that’s not where we came from—”
“It’s a better escape route.”
“Oh god,” you breathed, eyes darting back to the guard. He was looking right at you now, brows furrowed in suspicion. You didn’t wait for Jake’s signal—you grabbed his hand and bolted.
“Oi! Hey!” a voice called out behind you.
Jake abruptly stopped, dropping to his knees. “Shoes.” He tugged at your heels. “They’ll slow you down.”
Cursing, you kicked them off, barely giving him time to grab them before you both took off again.
Shouts rang out behind you, the man barking orders in rapid Italian, but you didn’t look back. You tore through the grand entrance, past a sprawling garden, and straight toward the massive gates.
The guards outside barely had time to register the sight of two guests sprinting into the night before you were already gone.
You didn’t stop running until you were far from the venue, your laughter mixing with Jake’s as you both collapsed by the seawall. Breathless and giddy, he hoisted himself onto the ledge, patting the spot beside him in invitation.
You sank down next to him, still panting, and leaned against his side for support.
“You good?” he asked, his arm coming around you, his fingers kneading gently at your shoulder.
“Yeah. You?”
“Better than ever.” He grinned, and you both broke into laughter again—genuine, breathless, and a little bit wild.
After a moment, you straightened, turning to look at him. His face was still alight with exhilaration, his eyes gleaming under the dim streetlights. “You’re a bad influence,” you murmured.
His grin widened. “I know.” Then, after a breath—“Can I kiss you?”
You glanced at his lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He closed the gap between you in a kiss that was long and slow, lingering like the adrenaline still thrumming in your veins. He kissed you until neither of you could tell if your lightheadedness was from the run or from this—whatever this was between you. And by the time you pulled apart, breathless and undone, you were sure of one thing.
You didn’t regret a single second of it.
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When you arrived at the hotel, the receptionist greeted him as Mr. Sim. You frowned, catching his sleeve as the elevator doors closed behind you. “Mr. Sim? I thought you were Mr. Park.”
He barely looked at you, too busy tugging you flush against him. “Probably another Asian guest. To these people, we all look the same.”
You laughed because, knowing him, he was probably right. But before you could dwell on it, his lips were on yours, swallowing any thought that didn’t involve him. You barely made it to his suite before your hands were everywhere—fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching at the fabric of his shirt as he pressed you against the door, kissing you like he was starving.
You knew where this was going, had known it since the first time his lips brushed against yours. But even as you gasped against his mouth, even as he trailed kisses down your neck, you forced yourself to slip from his grasp, your hands still lingering on his shoulders.
“There’s something you should know,” you murmured, breathless. His fingers were already tracing the curve of your waist, sending shivers down your spine. “It might change things.”
He exhaled a laugh, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t think anything you say can change how I feel about you.”
Your chest tightened, his words making your resolve waver. You kissed him, long and deep. His mouth traced a path down your jaw, nipping at your pulse, making you shudder. “The truth is…”
“Hm?” he hummed, lips brushing your collarbone.
“I’m…” You cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. “…engaged.”
Everything stopped. His grip on your hips tightened, his heavy-lidded eyes snapping open. “You’re what?”
“I’m engaged. I was supposed to be married in a week.” You exhaled, searching his face.
He backed away just enough to take a good look at you. He was still holding your arm when he asked, “Then why are you a thousand miles from home looking for a soulmate in a complete stranger?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t want to get married. And I—I answered your call by accident. It was meant for my boss, Lee Heeseung. But when you told me your name… I don’t know, I just felt like I had to find you.” Your fingers traced his cheek. “I thought maybe it was fate.”
His silence made your heart pound, but then he kissed you again, deeper, hungrier—like he had decided for himself what fate meant. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you toward the bed as his lips claimed every inch of skin he could reach. You arched against him, his hand slipping underneath you to unzip your dress.
“That doesn’t change anything?” you asked.
His mouth curved against your shoulder. “If we found each other… isn’t that all that matters?”
You nodded, pushing your hand inside his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. “Well, yeah. What could be worse than that?”
He flashed a grin before he kissed you breathless, pressing you into the mattress. His hands roamed lower to palm your breast, setting your skin on fire, but just as you started to lose yourself in him, he mumbled against your lips, “My name’s not Jay Park.”
In a daze from the sensation of his kisses and his touches, you couldn’t quite process what he just said. “You're not?”
“My name is Jake Sim.”
Suddenly, clarity crashed down on you. “WHAT?!” You shoved at his chest, but he barely budged.
He groaned, laughing breathlessly. “Oh, come on. You just said none of it matters!”
“Yes, except for that!” With a burst of strength fueled by sheer outrage, you pushed him off of you. He tumbled onto the floor with a thud.
He groaned, rolling onto his back. “Wow, you’re strong.”
“You lied to me?” you asked, appalled like you couldn’t believe he was capable of doing that.
“Hey, it’s just a name.”
You stood up angrily, grabbing your purse, coat, and shoes from where they were scattered across the room. “You’re a liar. A jerk! A horrible, horrible person!”
“Hey, calm down,” Jake tried, reaching for you, but you shoved his hands away.
“Don’t touch me!”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Alright. I lied. But only about my name. The rest of it was true. All of it. My dreams, my hopes, how I feel about you... all of it. My dreams, my photography, I didn’t lie about any of those.”
“You lied about the one thing that mattered most!” you snapped.
Jake exhaled, shoulders sagging. “Come on, love—”
“Don't call me that.”
“I thought you liked it.”
“I did when I thought you were Jay.”
His jaw tensed as he followed you to the door. “Jay isn’t even the guy you think he is. Be real. He’s a stranger. You don’t know him.”
“You would be a stranger too if you hadn’t lied about being him.” You pressed the elevator button, glaring at him. “Do you even have a conscience?”
He stepped closer. “Just—please. Give me a chance. How do you even know he’s the man you’re looking for?”
“I’ll figure that out myself.” You stepped into the elevator and pulled the steel gate shut before he could follow. “Why did you even do that?”
Desperation flickered in his eyes. “I did it because I’m in love with you!”
You scoffed, completely, utterly frustrated and exasperated. “And you expect me to believe that? What am I stupid?”
“Baby!”
“Leave me alone!” you hollered, just as the elevator door closed.
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You pounded on Katie’s door with trembling fists, your vision blurred by tears. When it finally opened, she stood there, bleary-eyed from sleep, Andre peering over her shoulder. You didn’t care. Pushing past them, you collapsed onto the couch by the window, sobbing uncontrollably.
Katie rushed to you, her hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Let’s go home, Katie.” Your voice cracked between sobs. “You were right. This was madness—coming here, chasing after some ghost, believing in stupid fate. All of it. This is the worst trip of my life.”
Katie glanced at Andre, silently asking him to give you both space. He understood and slipped out without a word. She sat beside you, offering a glass of water once your sobs quieted.
“What happened? Where’s Jay?”
You let out a hollow laugh. “He’s not Jay, Katie. He lied. His name is Jake Sim.”
Her brows furrowed. “What? Why would he do that?”
You shot up from the couch, pacing the room. “Because he’s a terrible person, that’s why! He probably thought this was all some joke. Like he could just lie his way into my bed and get away with it. Well, guess what? His honesty was five days too late! He wasted my time, my effort, everything! I will never believe in fate or destiny or love or any of that crap ever again!”
Katie sighed, taking the glass from your shaking hands. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” you snapped.
Her voice softened. “Really? You won’t believe in fate or destiny? And love too?”
The words hit sent a pang in your chest. You sat back down, burying your face in your hands. Your whole life, you had believed in love and destiny. Every good thing that happened to you, you thanked fate. Every bad thing, you told yourself it was leading you to something better. You believed in love because your parents had shown you it was real, because you grew up in a home where love was the foundation of everything. And now, just because one stranger had broken your heart, you were ready to throw all of that away?
Katie’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “Maybe this is destiny too,” she murmured. “Getting hurt is part of everyone’s growth. What he did was wrong, and he was a jerk for doing it, but don’t let him be the reason you stop believing in the things that make you who you are.”
You sniffed, wiping at your damp cheeks. “Let’s go home, Katie.”
She squeezed your hand. “Okay. We’ll go home.”
The next morning, Katie was alone in the hotel room, packing up both your things and hers for your flight home. She had taken it upon herself to gather all your belongings from the room you had shared with Jake, finding it empty when she arrived. You had left early with Andre to book tickets, determined to get out of Italy as soon as possible, leaving Katie to clean up.
She was nearly finished when a sharp knock sounded at the door. At first, she thought it was you or Andre, but when she opened it, she was greeted by a massive bouquet of flowers. Katie sighed, immediately swatting it away, already knowing who was behind it.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Not-Jay-Park?”
Jake peeked over the bouquet. “Katie. Is she here?”
“She’s not.”
Jake exhaled sharply. “Can you tell me where she is?”
Katie scoffed. “She’s booking tickets for our flight home.”
“You’re leaving already?” His voice dropped slightly.
“Yes. Early tomorrow. But if she finds a flight for today, she’ll take it. The sooner we leave, the faster she forgets about the jerk she met in Italy.”
“Come on, Katie. Not you too,” he pleaded. Katie just scoffed louder and started closing the door, but Jake wedged his hand against it. “Okay, I know. I know I messed up. But can you please hear me out?”
“You’re not worth my time, Jake.”
“I get that,” he sighed, pushing his way inside. “But I’m begging you. Please listen to me because she won’t.”
Katie folded her arms across her chest. “Fine. Three minutes.”
“Great.” He set the bouquet on the table. “The thing is… I’m in love with her.”
Katie let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Are all guys like this? Willing to say anything to get laid?”
“Hey, for the record, I have no problem getting laid.”
“You’re admitting that you sleep around? Gross.”
“No—wait. That’s not what I meant—” He ran a hand through his hair and took Katie to sit down on the chair before he crouched on the floor before her. “Listen to me.”
Katie rolled her eyes but stayed put. “Make it quick.”
He nodded. “Okay. So, I never believed in fate the way she does. I think it’s crap.”
“Is that why you tricked her? Because you think she believes in crap?”
“Will you let me finish?”
She motioned for him to continue, unimpressed.
“I wasn't even supposed to be here. I was supposed to be home, taking care of my dog. For the first time since I started working, I finally had a vacation. But then—boom—last-minute call. The photographer who was supposed to come here canceled, and I got sent instead.”
He took a deep breath. “So there I was, back in Italy, tired of shooting the same things every year. Taking pictures of that old, grumpy Marchetti’s shoes—which, by the way, are nice, but not nice enough for him to earn my respect.”
Katie frowned. “You're rambling, Jake.”
“Right, sorry.” He took another breath, refocusing. “So I’m in Rome, relieved the show is over, thinking I can finally go home. Then I run into my old friend, Jay Park. We haven’t seen each other in ages, so we grab dinner. And then—” He gestured dramatically, “in walks this gorgeous, gorgeous woman in a red dress. It’s like whole world was out of focus, and all I can see was her, looking around before sitting alone.”
“She was there for Jay.”
“I know! I mean, I didn’t at the time, but I do now.” Jake let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to talk to her, but I had Jay with me, and ditching a friend for a girl is kind of a dick move. So I just… stole glances. Jay noticed and told me to go talk to her. I figured I’d just pay for her food instead, but he insisted.” He gave a small, almost amused shake of his head. “He even paid her bill and said I should repay him by talking to her.”
Katie nodded slowly. “I see. So that’s what happened.”
“Yes,” Jake said, shifting his weight. “And then my friend left, and there I was, just watching her sip wine after her meal, waiting for the right moment. But then—” He huffed, looking away. “I chickened out. So I left.”
Katie cocked an eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to continue.
Jake pushed off the chair and started pacing. “So I left, right? I was walking the streets, thinking about her, and then suddenly this girl rushed past me. Same dress, same hair, and I just knew it was her.” He gestured vaguely, like he could still see the moment playing out. “I followed her because I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t. But your friend is a fast runner, did you know that?”
Katie smirked. “She did track and field in high school.”
Jake snapped his fingers. “That explains it.”
Then, without missing a beat, he went on. “Anyway, I found her shoe, stuck in the cobblestone. So I picked it up and started looking for her. Luckily, she wasn’t hard to spot in that dress.” He shot Katie a pointed look. “Thanks to you, by the way. I heard it was your idea.”
Katie gave a small shrug.
“So, I finally caught up to her, and she was… upset. And then, out of nowhere, you guys were leaving.” Jake exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I knew I had to stop her. I had to at least get her name because I’d regret it if I didn’t. If she got into that car and disappeared forever—” He shook his head. “I couldn’t let that happen.”
His voice softened. “And then she told me she saw me too. That she had been looking for Jay.” He hesitated before continuing, rubbing his temple. “I thought… I thought it would be easier to make her stay if I just said I was Jay.”
Katie let out a sharp scoff. “Or you could have just said you knew who Jay Park was.”
Jake groaned, throwing his head back. “I know! But hey, I panicked, okay?” He let out a humorless laugh. “I was… desperate, I guess. I’ve never felt this way before. Ever.”
His voice grew quieter. “My mom told me to take this trip. Even though I had to work, she said something great might happen to me here.” He looked down, then back up at Katie, eyes filled with something raw. “And I know this is it. Finding her was the ‘something great’ my mom meant. I don’t know how I know. I just do.”
He swallowed hard. “And now I messed it all up. I can’t let her leave, Katie. Not when I just got to know her.”
Katie sighed, crossing her arms. “That’s actually kind of romantic.” Then, with a pointed look, she added, “But it was wrong from the get-go.”
Jake’s shoulders tensed.
“This was a big deal for her, Jake,” she continued. “She left home to pursue this. She left her fiancé. And you? You lied to her.” Katie shook her head. “She’s mad at you right now, and honestly? If I were her, I’d be mad too.”
“Is there any way I can make it up to her?”
“Bring her to your friend, Jake. She just needs a look, a confirmation that she won’t be making the wrong decision.”
“What? About her marriage?”
“Yes. It's not my place to tell, but she’s conflicted.”
“Yeah, I think I know the gist of it.”
“You know? Good. Then you also know how much this means to her.”
Before he could respond, the door suddenly swung open. Andre stepped in, freezing for a moment when he spotted Jake. Then, with a dramatic shake of his head, he sighed. “Buddy, you messed up, man.”
“I know,” Jake sighed, standing up from the floor and grabbing the bouquet. To Katie, he said, “Thanks, Katie.”
Katie nodded. “Good luck, Jake.”
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The tickets were booked, and you were set to leave in the morning. As you knelt beside your suitcase, you gave your belongings a final inspection. “We have to leave super early, Katie. The flight’s early, and we don’t want to miss it.”
“I know, I know,” Katie said, fastening an earring. “Andre and I are just going to drive around for a bit. It won’t take long.”
“You don’t have to rush your date,” you said, zipping up a side pocket. “Have fun tonight. Just make sure we’re on time tomorrow. We have to leave before that jerk comes looking for me.”
You hesitated, fiddling with the zipper pull. “Did he… come looking for me?”
Katie turned to you with a knowing smirk. “You like him, don’t you? You’re crazy for him.”
You scoffed. “I am not. I mean… I liked him because I thought he was someone else. I thought he was my soulmate.”
Katie tilted her head, considering your words. “So you liked him just because you thought he was your soulmate? And now that he’s not, your feelings just disappeared? That doesn’t really sound like fate to me.”
“You don’t even believe in fate.”
“I don’t believe in chasing fate,” she corrected. “I believe it comes to you when it’s time.”
You let out a frustrated sigh. “Whose side are you on?”
“No one’s.” Katie grinned, clipping on her other earring. “So tell me… you’re really not in love with him?”
“I hate him,” you said with conviction.
Katie’s grin widened. “Good. Because that’s what I told him when he came here with flowers for you.”
Your heart stuttered. “He came here?”
“While you were out booking tickets.”
Your stomach twisted. “And you told him I hated him?”
Katie shrugged, all too pleased with herself. “You don’t?”
You pressed your lips together, looking away as you shoved a pair of shoes into your suitcase. “None of that changes the fact that he lied.”
Katie gave you a look—one of those smug, all-knowing looks you hated. “Good. Then we can go home without regrets. I’ll go sightseeing with Andre, and you can stay here and… I don’t know, weep?”
“You’re mean.”
“Maybe,” she giggled, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. “Have fun being lonely.”
“Katie—”
“Bye,” she called out, slipping through the door before you could protest.
The night came and went. Morning arrived with the sound of birds chirping outside your window, but you hadn’t slept much. Instead of feeling relieved about finally going home, a strange heaviness settled in your chest. Part of you wanted to leave, to put everything behind you—but another part hesitated.
“Ready?” Katie asked as you buckled your seatbelt in the backseat of Andre’s car.
“Ready,” you exhaled, forcing a smile.
Andre started the engine, but just as he was about to pull out, a loud thud made all of you jolt. Jake stood in front of the car, his palms pressed against the hood, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
“Wait,” he panted. “Don’t go yet.”
You scrambled out of the car, heart pounding, expecting him to plead his case again. “What are you doing?”
Jake inhaled sharply, then gripped your shoulders. “Please don’t leave. Let me make it up to you.”
You scoffed, shaking him off. “Nothing you do will ever change my mind, Jake.” You made sure to emphasize his real name.
His jaw tensed at the way you said his name, something flickering in his expression—fondness, longing. He swallowed. “Oh god,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’re so beautiful.”
You blinked. Then, with an incredulous scoff, you turned to get back in the car.
“No, wait—please.” Jake stepped in your way again, more urgency in his voice now. “I messed up, okay? I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be. That’s why I’m here. I want to apologize and make it up to you.”
“How? By sweet-talking me?”
Jake shook his head. “No, Jay. I know where Jay Park is.”
You froze, hand hovering over the car door handle. Slowly, you turned back to face him. “You’re not lying?”
“I’m not.” He ran a hand through his hair before exhaling. “He told me in Rome that he’d be in Amalfi on the 5th. Today is the 5th. He’ll be there for a few days.”
“Amalfi?” you repeated, turning to Katie and Andre. “That’s nearby, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Andre confirmed. “And it’s worth a shot.”
Jake nodded, pulling out his phone. “Here. I have his hotel number. You can contact him.”
Your eyes narrowed. “How did you get this?”
“I pulled some strings,” he admitted. “But I’m sure it’ll work. Have you changed your mind about finding him?”
You hesitated, glancing at Katie for her opinion. She gave you a small nod. You sighed, looking back at Jake.
Looks like Destiny didn’t want you to leave just yet.
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You changed your route from the airport to Amalfi. The trip wasn’t long—less than an hour—and soon, you arrived at the hotel Jake had mentioned. He followed, of course, though you had refused to ride with him, settling instead in the backseat of Andre’s convertible. You felt a little ridiculous for pursuing this after everything you’d said about fate being a sham, but you’d come all this way. A glimpse of Jay Park should be enough. You weren’t even trying to see if he was your soulmate anymore—you just wanted to fulfill the goal that had brought you here in the first place.
At the reception desk, you asked to use the phone, and the receptionist pointed you toward it before leaving you alone. Your friends had gone off as well, leaving you standing there, staring at the white receiver as nerves took over.
“Gosh, you can’t back out now,” you muttered under your breath. Just as you reached for the phone, your own buzzed in your hand. Reading the notification made your jaw drop.
By some miracle—one whole week since you’d sent the message—user jaypark_js had finally replied!
You stared at the screen in disbelief before quickly opening the chat. Jay apologized for seeing your message so late, and after a bit of back-and-forth, you asked if he’d be willing to meet for dinner since you were in the area. He agreed without hesitation, even promising to treat you to some great food.
It was set. You were going to meet Jay Park.
Back in your hotel room, you picked out a simple yet elegant white dress from your luggage, getting ready while Katie did the same. She was excited for you—even more so since she and Andre had plans for the night too. You were halfway through getting dressed when Andre arrived, Jake trailing in after him with a box in his hands.
You yelped and ducked into the bathroom, clutching your dress to your chest.
“I’m gonna go,” Katie announced, looping her arm around Andre’s. “See you later, okay?”
“See you!” you called out from inside.
As she passed Jake, Katie smirked. “See you later, Jake.” The way she said his name was teasing, almost conspiratorial, before she shut the door behind her.
Jake knocked on the bathroom door. “I got something for you.”
“Maybe later, Jake. I’m kind of naked right now,” you chided and Jake’s ears reddened at the idea of you naked in there.
“Uh… Just take it. I won’t look. You’re gonna need it.”
You cracked the door open slightly, just enough to grab the box from his outstretched hands. Inside was a pair of white shoes. “Thanks, but how did you even know my size?”
Jake hesitated before grinning. “Uh… intuition?”
You gave him a skeptical look through the gap before shutting the door again.
Left alone, Jake turned away, glancing around your room—until his eyes landed on the dress you’d left hanging in the closet. Without thinking, he plucked it from the hanger, brushing his fingers over the fabric as he moved back to the door.
“Good guess. It fits perfectly,” you called out from inside.
Jake smirked. “Of course it does.”
The door cracked open again, a single hand reaching out. “Hey, Jake, can you grab my dress? It’s the white one on the—”
Before you could finish, he hooked the hanger onto your finger. You blinked, surprised, before pulling it inside. “Thanks.”
Jake then went over to the dresser and picked up a set of earrings and a bracelet. Sure enough, the door cracked open once more.
“Oh, and I also need my earrings—” You stopped when he placed the pair in your palm before you even finished asking. You frowned slightly. “And my silver bracelet—”
Again, he handed it over without hesitation. This time, you poked your head out, eyeing him curiously. He was standing right outside, waiting, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“What?” he asked, amused.
You shook your head. “Nothing. Thanks.”
After getting dressed, you stepped out of the bathroom to find Jake lounging on the couch, flipping through an Italian magazine. He barely glanced up, but when you hesitated, fidgeting with the back of your dress, his eyes finally met yours.
“Can you button me up?” you asked, a little shyly. “I usually manage on my own, but zippers are easier.”
Jake set the magazine aside and pushed off the couch. “Yeah, no problem.” His fingers brushed your exposed shoulder as he gently turned you toward the mirror.
You met his gaze in the reflection—just as handsome as when you first met him. That effortless elegance, his smooth skin, the fullness of his lips. You caught yourself staring, remembering how they felt against yours, your hand absently touching your lower lip. 
Jake fumbled with the buttons, his brow furrowing in concentration. When one hand wasn’t enough, the other left your shoulder, grazing the bare skin of your spine. A slow, warm shiver spread through you.
“Damn buttons,” he muttered under his breath before fastening the last one. He met your eyes in the mirror and smiled. “You look great.”
“Thank you,” you breathed, still caught in his gaze. He clenched his jaw slightly and shoved his hands into his back pockets.
“You should go. Jay’s probably waiting.”
You exhaled, smoothing down your dress. “Thanks for bringing me here, Jake.”
His expression darkened. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t call me Jake.” He took a step closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
“But… that’s your name, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he murmured, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “And it sounds so good when you say it. It was meant for your lips, for your voice…”
“Don’t do this right now, Jake…”
He let out a sigh that made you hold your breath. His lips brushed against your shoulder in a featherlight kiss. Then he backed away.
“Go to Jay. See if he’s really your soulmate.”
You let out a bitter chuckle, turning to face him. “Are you mocking me?”
But there was no amusement in his expression. Only frustration. Only defeat. “I’m telling you to go,” he said quietly. “Because maybe if he makes you happy, I’ll finally move on.”
Something in you ached at the way he said it. You lifted a hand to his face, and he closed his eyes, leaning into the warmth of your touch. When you started to pull away, he caught your wrist, pressing your palm back against his cheek. His other hand found your waist, tugging you closer.
You weren’t sure what it was that drew you to Jake. Was it his charm? The way he made you feel like you were all he wanted? Or something deeper, something you didn’t want to name? Whatever it was, it pulled you under again, made you tip forward and wrap your arms around his neck just as he captured your lips in a tender kiss.
“Don’t go,” he pleaded, eyes shut, his forehead resting against yours. “Stay.”
You swallowed hard. “This is what I came here for, Jake. I have to do this.”
You let go of him and took your purse. Jake turned his back, not giving you a look even as you bade him good night. 
He opened his eyes, searching yours, then he let go.
You grabbed your purse and turned for the door. He turned away too, not sparing you another glance as you bade him a quiet goodnight.
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The night was young, and the breeze carried a biting chill. You regretted not bringing a coat, but the thought barely lingered as you made your way down to the restaurant on the lower floor. The warmth of the space wrapped around you, easing the goosebumps on your arms.
At the entrance, a man greeted you. You gave him the name on the reservation, and he gestured for another to escort you to your table.
Jay was already seated, and the moment you saw him, your intuition from that night in Rome was confirmed. You had followed the dark-haired man back then, and he had turned out to be the real Jay Park.
He stood as you approached, offering a handshake. “Hi.”
You accepted it. “Thanks for accepting my invitation,” you said as you took your seat, the waiter pulling out the chair for you.
“Thanks for asking,” he replied smoothly.
You ordered food and chatted for a bit. He was a bit different from what you thought he would be. You had based his personality on the quality of his photography. They were taken with delicate care and attention so you assumed he’d be the sentimental type, but the man before you seemed to be on the manlier side; suave, easygoing with a more rugged demeanor. His build, his voice, and even his mannerisms. But then again, you reminded yourself that appearances could be misleading.
“By the way,” you said, setting down your glass. “That night at the restaurant in Rome… you paid for my dinner.”
He paused, as if searching his memory. Then his expression cleared. “Oh, the girl in the red dress? That was you?”
You nodded.
“I remember now.” He leaned back slightly. “I was with a friend—Jake Sim. We ran into each other in Rome, and I told him I’d treat him to dinner. Then he saw you.” Jay’s lips curled into a small smile. “You looked incredible, by the way. That dress definitely turned heads. Mine included.”
You chuckled lightly. “Is that why you paid for my meal?”
“Not exactly,” he admitted. “That was Jake’s idea. He wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t want to leave me hanging, so he decided to cover your bill instead. I told him I’d pay and that he should just go talk to you.”
The realization sank in slowly. “Ah… so that’s what it was.” You stared down at your plate, a strange feeling settling in your chest.
You felt an odd sense of dissatisfaction with this meeting. Something that made you feel like you were forced to be here, like you were complying with something even when this dinner was your idea in the first place.
Jay’s voice pulled you back. “Did he?”
You blinked. “What?”
“Did he talk to you at all?”
“Yeah. We talked.” You hesitated. “Actually, he’s the one who brought me here. I really wanted to meet you.”
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m flattered. But what for?”
You didn't want to reveal more about the whole crazy soulmate thing to him so you cooked up an excuse. “I’m a fan of your work. I follow you on Instagram and I saw that you were here so I thought I’d meet you since I also happened to be around.”
Jay seemed pleasantly surprised. “Oh, wow. Thanks. I appreciate that.” He paused. “Though, I mainly do photography as a hobby. My wife liked looking at pictures.”
Your heartbeat faltered for a second. Relief flooded through you before you could process why. “You’re married?”
“Was,” he corrected gently. “She passed away a few years ago.”
Your stomach twisted. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said easily. “I’m fine. I’ve moved on. But right now, I’m not in a place where I can entertain the idea of a relationship. Might sound obnoxious, but I hope you didn’t come looking for me for that.”
You shook your head. “That’s okay. I really just wanted to get to know you.” Desperate to steer the conversation, you added, “My boss, Lee Heeseung, you know him, right?”
Jay’s face lit up in recognition. “Right. Heeseung. Of course. You work for him?”
“Yes. I saw some of your pieces in our magazine. That’s how I knew about you.”
You could barely believe yourself. After all the ways you had tormented Jake for lying, here you were, doing the same to save face. It was minor, sure—but a lie was still a lie.
No, it was completely different. Jay didn’t need to know you obsessed over his name through your teens. You needed to know if the person you almost hooked up with and threw your relationship with Sunghoon for was really Jay. It was different and whatever Jake’s excuse was, he still did a terrible thing to you.
“You okay?” Jay’s voice cut through your thoughts.
“Huh?” You looked up. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
The dinner was nice. Despite the uncertainty you felt in the first part, he turned out to be fun to talk to. You found that you were more alike than you initially expected, interests on a couple of similar things.
Afterward, you agreed to take a walk by the beach, wrapped in his coat to shield yourself from the chill. He mostly told stories about his travels—crazy encounters with strangers, unexpected adventures overseas. He asked about you, too, and you shared a few interesting bits about yourself. At some point, the conversation drifted to how he met his wife in Italy. Ever since, they had visited the country every year, always drawn back to the sea in Amalfi, their favorite place to be.
“Must be nice to be in love like that,” you mused, spotting the restaurant as you neared your starting point.
“It is.” He exhaled, the faintest smile on his lips. “I was lucky to experience that kind of love.”
You hesitated, then said, “I know it’s not my place, but… I think you should try again. Maybe you’ll find someone else who makes you happy. Maybe you’ll get to experience love like that again.”
He chuckled. “You know, sometimes I think she’s up there saying the exact same thing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. That’s the kind of person she was.” His voice was steady, no trace of sadness—just reminiscent and fond. “She wouldn’t want me to be lonely just because she’s gone. That’s why, instead of grieving, I chose to live. I still revisit the places we loved, still carry those memories with me—but I do it with a happy heart. And if someone else comes along, someone who changes my life the way she did…” He shrugged, smiling softly. “Then I’ll welcome her with open arms.”
You nodded, returning his smile as you reached the stairs leading up to the seawall. He offered his hand for balance, and you took it without hesitation. At the top, you slipped off his coat and handed it back.
“I think we both know that someone isn’t me,” you quipped, prompting him to tilt his head playfully.
“Well…” He slipped his coat back on. “You’re a lovely woman, and I probably would’ve fallen for you in no time, but nah. I don’t think so.”
You both laughed.
“I’m big on soulmates and destiny, you know?” he continued. “I like to believe that if she’s out there, I’ll know. There has to be a sign. Or a feeling. I don’t know exactly what, but when it happens… I’ll just know.”
You felt an odd sense of familiarity with him, not in a romantic way, but in a way that made you feel like you’d known him much longer than just tonight. He was proving once again that you two were more alike than you’d expected.
“That’s funny,” you mused. “Because I actually came here to fulfill my destiny.”
You giggled at how ridiculous you sounded, but Jay only looked intrigued. “You did?”
“Yeah. I was looking for my soulmate. I got his name when I was thirteen, and ever since then, I believed he was the one for me.”
Jay stopped walking, staring at you with growing realization. “Wait,” he said slowly. “Don’t tell me…”
You winced. “Yeah. The Ouija board gave me your name, Mr. Jay Park.”
His eyes widened. He covered his mouth with one hand, but you could see the laughter threatening to spill out.
“Don’t laugh,” you warned. “I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”
He pressed his lips together, but amusement danced in his eyes. “I’m not judging.”
You threw your head back with a laugh. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Now that I think about it, my friend or my sister was probably behind the whole thing. They must’ve rigged the board or something.”
Jay grinned. “Hey, who knows? Maybe you were right to come here.”
You snorted. “No offense, Jay, but I don’t want to be the stand-in for your great love.”
He laughed. “That’s not what I was gonna say.”
“Oh? My bad. Go on, then.”
“I’m saying… you came here looking for something. At first, you thought it was me. But maybe what you were really chasing was your destiny. And maybe, if you stick around a little longer, you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
ou caught a glimpse of Jake at the restaurant’s veranda. He had a glass of wine in hand, which he downed a little too quickly when he realized you’d caught him looking. Then, as if it hadn’t happened, he turned away, pretending to be absorbed in conversation with Andre and Katie. Not even a few seconds later, he stole another glance, only to look away again just as fast.
Meanwhile, Jay was still talking. “I always believe that everything you do, everywhere you go, everyone you meet, you meet them for a reason. The reason was destiny. Destiny brought you to Italy. I’m sure she has big plans for you.”
You froze. A sudden sense of déjà vu swept over you. You’d heard that before from Jake. A friend said it to him. Was that friend Jay Park?
“You know what? I agree,” you muttered, still watching Jake from afar. Then, turning to Jay, you asked, “Hey, listen.”
“Hm?”
“Are you sure you’re not just saying that to be a wingman for your friend?” The accusation in your tone was light, but you were determined to know the truth.
Jay blinked. “What friend?”
“Jake Sim.”
“Oh, Jake?” He looked thoughtful. “No, the last time I saw him was in Rome.” Then, after a beat, he added, “Didn’t you say he was here too?”
“He is.”
Jay perked up. “Great. We should all meet for a drink.”
“We should. Look. He’s right there.” You gestured toward the restaurant. “Would you like to join us? We’re here with some friends.”
“I’d love to.”
“No need to call him. He's right there,” you said, pointing at the restaurant. “Would you like to join us? We're here together with some friends.”
“I would love to.”
Back inside, you led Jay to the bar, introducing him to Katie and Andre—making sure to subtly warn Katie not to act weird around him. You had drinks by the bar, chatting and laughing through the night. 
Jay fit in effortlessly, and Andre took an immediate liking to him, prodding him for stories about his travels. Jake, on the other hand, barely looked at you. His attention was fixed on Jay and Andre, his expression was unreadable, though he chimed in every now and then. 
You, meanwhile, stood by, sipping your drink, quietly laughing along while thinking hard about the Jay Park that you obsessed over, Jake Sim who you thought was Jay, and the fate that brought the three of you here in the beautiful Amalfi.
“Are you okay?” Katie asked, noticing your silence.
“Yeah, I’m just tired,” you replied. It wasn’t even an excuse. You really were tired and just wanted the night to end.
“We can go back now if you want,” Katie offered, her concern evident.
You appreciated it, but after seeing how cozy she was with Andre, you didn’t want to ruin her night. “I’ll be fine. I can go back by myself. You guys have fun.”
Slipping away quietly, you left her to explain your absence to the others. The stairs leading to your suite were winding, and as you ascended, a wave of dizziness hit you. You weren’t drunk—just a little tipsy from the wine and dizzy from all the thoughts about Jaek swirling in your mind. 
You huffed when you reached the second-floor landing. One more set of stairs and you’d reach your suite, so you inhaled and took another step. But you ended up losing balance on your heels and falling over. The next thing you knew, you were on the floor, the impact more frustrating than painful.
“Hey,” came a voice from below, followed by hurried footsteps. Jake reached you quickly, eyes scanning you in concern as he helped you up. “What happened?”
“Your shoes are stupid,” you grumbled, yanking them off and standing with his support. “Why would you even give them to me?”
Jake let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t know. I saw them and thought you’d look great in them.”
“Well, I did. But they’re crap,” you huffed.
Jake sighed as he walked up the stairs beside you. “Was the date bad? You seem to be in a mood.”
“No. The date was great. Jay is a great guy. He’s funny, he’s nice, and he’s honest.” You emphasized the last word, making sure he caught your point.
Jake exhaled. “I’m sorry. I really am. I brought you here to make it up to you. But seeing that you’re still mad, I guess it didn’t work?”
You stopped in front of your door and turned to him with a stern gaze. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“I told you. I wanted to make it up to you.”
You sighed. “By setting me up with your friend? I thought you were in love with me.”
“I am!” he confessed, running a hand through his hair. “But you were mad at me because I messed up.” He let out a defeated sigh. “So to apologize for wasting your time, here’s Jay Park.”
“But you’re in love with me,” you repeated.
“That’s still true.”
You sighed as frustration swelled inside you. Dropping your purse, you reached for his collar and clutched it tightly. “Then why?” you asked, voice raw, close to breaking. “Why would you set me up with him if you’re in love with me?”
Jake seemed startled, his hands instinctively gripping your elbows. Confusion flickered across his face as he searched for the right words. “I… What—What do you want me to say?”
“You even bought me shoes,” you went on, voice shaking. “What if we ended up liking each other? What if he really was my soulmate? Were you just gonna let me go?”
“Fuck, no,” he blurted, quick and desperate, cupping your face in both hands. “I’d fight him for you. I’d keep trying until you told me to get lost. Hell, I’d even follow you back to Seoul and stop your wedding.” His grip tightened, his breath warm against your skin. “If I lost you here—if I missed this chance—I would… I would…”
He exhaled sharply, pulling you into a hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I would never forgive myself,” he murmured.
You stood still, feeling his warmth seep into you, his breaths unsteady against your skin.
He kept going. “I know how stupid it sounds to fall in love with someone so quickly, but I did. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. I knew you were the one for me. I knew you were everything that was meant to be.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “And I’m sorry I lied, but I did it because I was scared I’d lose you forever without even knowing your name.”
Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you reached for his cheek, your fingers tracing over his skin as you stepped closer. Then, without hesitation, you kissed him.
He croaked out your name but you silenced him by kissing him again. This time, when you started to pull away, he didn’t let you. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back with everything he had, reeling you into a surge of sensations and emotions that clouded your head. 
When he pulled away for a brief moment to look into your eyes, you wanted to reach for him again, to feel him and be engulfed by his warmth again.
“Take me, Jake,” you pleaded and that made Jake exhale sharply before holding your hand firmly and pulling you into his room.
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Jake barely made it two steps inside before he kicked the door shut, hands already roaming your back as his lips devoured yours. Your fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, impatient and desperate. The fabric slipped from his shoulders and hit the floor just as his own hands worked at the fastenings of your dress.
A sharp rip echoed through the dimly lit room. You pulled back, gasping. “Jake!”
“Sorry, love,” he murmured, unapologetic as he tugged you close again. “I’ll get you a new one.”
His lips found yours before you could argue, his kiss hot and consuming, stealing your breath and any lingering protests. He stepped back until his knees hit the bed, sinking down and pulling you with him, your legs straddling his lap. The heat between you intensified, kisses turning feverish—tongues tangling, teeth grazing. His hands slid up your back, deft fingers unclasping your bra with ease, and before you could react, it was gone, flung somewhere into the room. You barely noticed.
His lips traveled down your throat, dragging slow, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, leaving heat in their wake. When his teeth scraped over your pulse, a gasp escaped you. He sucked at the spot, hard enough that you knew it would leave a mark.
You knew how it would look in the morning and you knew everyone would see it but you didn’t mind. The thought of people seeing it tomorrow, seeing proof of tonight, made your head spin.
Your hips rolled against him instinctively, and he groaned, his grip tightening on your waist as you ground down, desperate for friction. His hands roamed greedily, fingers tracing your curves, learning every inch of your skin.
Then, in one swift motion, he flipped you onto the bed, hovering over you, eyes dark and full of hunger. The dress, or what remained of it, slid off with ease, leaving you bare and naked beneath him. Jake’s gaze burned as he took you in, his breath ragged and quick. He reached out, trailing the back of his fingers over your cheek, slow and reverent.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, voice raw. “It hurts.”
Your fingers curled around his wrist, guiding his touch lower, placing his palm right on your breast. “Touch me, Jake,” you pleaded, voice barely above a breath.
His lips parted, a hushed curse falling from them before he obeyed, hands mapping out the softness of your body, fingers exploring, worshipping.
His lips followed the same path, leaving heated kisses down your collarbone, between your breasts, along your stomach. He palmed your breast, kneading firmly before diving in to put his mouth where his hand had been. Your fingers curled in his hair, urging him on, desperate for more. 
“You’re impatient,” he murmured against your skin, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Jake,” you whined, arching into him, seeking friction.
He chuckled, hands gripping your thighs, pushing them apart. His head followed, teasing at your inner thighs, exploring and inching closer to where you want him to be. The closer he got, the quicker you breathed, and when he finally gave you what you wanted, a gasp tore from your throat.
Your fingers tightened in his hair as pleasure rolled through you in waves. He was relentless, lapping and sucking at your sensitive sex, memorizing which angle made your breath hitch and your body twitched. When your thighs trembled around him, he only gripped you harder, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. 
The pleasure built higher and higher until it crashed over you, leaving you breathless and dazed.
Before you could fully come down, Jake was already moving, lips trailing back up your body, whispering sweet nothings against your skin. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, while his hands slid down your thigh, folding your knees up.
“I need you,” he rasped against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours, breath unsteady.
“Then take me,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer.
His gaze locked onto yours, dark and filled with something deeper than lust—something consuming. He reached down to tug his boxers off, manhood springing free. He prodded at your sex, teasing just enough to make you whimper before finally pushing in, stretching you, filling you completely.
A grunt left his lips as he halted, savoring the delightful clench. “Fuck,” he groaned, eyes fluttering shut, as if trying to keep himself together.
Your fingers dug into his back, and you lifted your hips, urging him to move. That was all it took for him to snap, his control falling apart as he began to set a steady rhythm—deep, slow thrusts that had you gasping into his mouth. He kissed you through it, swallowing your moans, his own sounds muffled against your lips.
When you came here, you never imagined having sex with someone, not even the soulmate you were desperately searching for. And Jake—he was a stranger, and the way he made you feel was something entirely new. You’d always been the sensual kind, taking things slow and steady. Jake was steady, but rough. Each thrust sent a sharp, delightful ache through you, unraveling you in ways you hadn’t known were possible.
You gasped, clutching onto him as he moved, hitting that perfect spot that sent your mind spinning. The pleasure built rapidly, coiling tight in your stomach, making you cry out his name.
He moved harder, deeper, chasing his release as you spiraled toward yours. Every thrust, every touch, every breath between you pushed you closer until—
“Oh, Jake,” you gasped, holding onto him for dear life as waves of pleasure surged through you in a dizzying rush.
His movements turned erratic, his grip tightening as he buried his face against your neck, groaning as he followed right after you. His body tensed, and then he froze, his breath warm against your skin as he came undone.
For a long moment, neither of you moved, tangled together, breathless and spent. The only sound was your unsteady shallow breaths, and the pounding of your heartbeats.
Jake finally lifted his head. “Fuck,” he blurted, looking down at your fucked out expression and grinning. He leaned to place a lazy kiss to your lips before rolling onto his side, pulling you against him. 
“Well,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “That wasn’t how I planned to end the night, but I’m not complaining.”
You let out a breathless laugh, nuzzling into his chest. “Me neither,” you admitted.
His arms tightened around you, and he pressed another kiss to your forehead, murmuring something against your skin that you couldn’t quite catch. But you felt it—in the way he held you, the way he touched you.
And somehow, that was enough.
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Two years later, you stood at the podium, facing the person who would be officiating your wedding. Friends and family were present to witness this day, even Andre Marchetti—who, much to Jake’s grumbling, turned out to be the son of the Italian shoemaker he loathed. He and Katie had ended their fling before you left Italy, but he still earned an invitation for playing a role in your love story.
Park Sunghoon was there too, holding his beautiful baby girl in his arms, his wife beaming beside him. The two of you had remained good friends, and as fate willed it, he had even found his own destiny and married before you. Everything had fallen into place, just as you always believed it would.
And now, standing before Jake, it felt like everything had been leading to this moment. He cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off nerves. Then he smirked—because of course he did—and said, “Before I met you, I never thought much about fate. To me, life was about choices, and love was just something you built, not something written in the stars. And then you happened.”
His grip on your hands tightened. “You came crashing into my life, with all your stubborn belief in destiny, and somehow, despite all my skepticism, I started to believe too. Not because of some cosmic plan, but because I couldn’t imagine a world where I don’t end up loving you. And that’s a big deal coming from someone like me.”
A small laugh rippled through the guests, but Jake kept his eyes locked on you. “So, I don’t know if the universe wrote this for us. But I do know that if I had to choose over and over again, I’d still end up right here. With you.” He tilted his head, smiling slightly. “Even when you drive me crazy.”
You let out a soft breath, eyes stinging, and squeezed his hands back. You tried to steel your resolve, willing yourself not to cry too soon. With a shaky breath, your spoke next, “I spent my whole life believing in destiny. I followed signs, searched for meaning in the smallest things, and held onto the belief that somewhere in this world, fate had written a love story just for me. But no sign, no name on a Ouija board, no whispered wish upon a falling star could have prepared me for you.”
Your voice wavered slightly, but you pushed through just like you’d practiced dozens of times before today. “You were unexpected, messy, and completely wrong by every rule I thought I had set for myself. And yet, I found you because, somehow, even through all my searching, all my mistakes, you were always meant to be the one.”
Jake exhaled, something flickering in his gaze that made your heart ache in the best way.
“I love you not because fate said so,” you continued, voice softer, “but because I wanted to. I chose you. So today, I don’t just promise to love you because it’s meant to be. I choose to love you, again and again, every day, in every lifetime, in every version of the story. I will always choose to love you.”
Jake swallowed hard, his hands tightening around yours, and when the officiant finally spoke, inviting you to seal it with a kiss, you surged forward before he even finished the sentence. The crowd erupted into cheers as Jake kissed you like it was the first time all over again, like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life. 
Across the room, Katie and your sister stood together, glasses in hand, watching as guests approached your table to greet you and congratulate you. At one point, Katie nudged your sister, motioning toward where you stood chatting with Jay Park. 
“Look, it’s Jay Park. The soulmate she was raving about for years. Looks like he played a completely different role in her destiny.”
“Jay Park?” your sister echoed, tapping her glass as she too stared at the guy greeting you and Jake.  “Why does that name sound familiar?”
 “The Jay Park. The one from the Ouija board. The soulmate the spirits chose for her.”
Your sister gasped. “Oh, yeah. The one I made up!” she exclaimed, bursting into laughter.
“What?” Katie questioned, confused.
“Jay Park. I made him up. I didn’t even think hard about it, I just randomly came up with that name.”
“No. You couldn’t have. I was there too.”
“Yeah and you were both dumb enough to freak out over moving glass so I kept messing with you all,” she laughed, taking a sip from her glass.
Katie was fully scandalized. “Do you have any idea how long she held onto that name? She was online searching every Jay Park on the internet and guessing which one was her soulmate. She even had a crush on the singer Jay Park because of it!”
“Of course I know. It was hilarious,” your sister said with a shrug. “She stopped bringing it up, so I figured she got over it.”
Katie sighed in exasperation. “Eonnie, we literally flew to Italy for Jay Park. That’s how she met Jake.”
It was your sister’s turn to gasp. “No, you did not!”
“Well, we did,” Katie deadpanned. “And now she believes the Ouija board led her to Jay so he could lead her to Jake, her real soulmate.”
“Oh my poor sister,” she winced. “Who’s gonna tell her?”
“Don’t tell her,” Katie chided, shaking her head. “She’d freak out and she’ll never forgive you. That almost happened with Jake.”
You, oblivious to their conversation, laughed at something Jay had said, completely unaware of the revelation unfolding behind your back.
But then again—who’s to say your sister’s innocent little prank wasn’t destiny’s design all along?
[fin]
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homiesexuallaj · 5 months ago
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I would love to see an overprotective Eric (2024 ver.) pls 🙏🏼
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Pairing: Eric Draven x reader
Genre/Warnings: overprotective Eric, little bit of fluff, a man kinda flirts with you, unrequited flirting, unwanted touching (but nothing horrible)
A/N: Hi!! I hope you enjoy your request, Anon! For any other readers, my Mr. Draven (both 1994 and 2024) requests are open if you're interested!!
———
Even after his death, Eric still had a liking to go to bars and clubs late a night. It was a nice distraction from life and his, still new, circumstances. It was nice to just drink, dance, and relax. It was especially pleasant when he had his girl with him, you.
You two had actually met at one of the club's you two frequented. After a fun night of dancing and drinking together you two seemed to just click. At the beginning of your relationship, you two met at bars and clubs. The flashing multi-colored lights and yelling to just be heard made you jittery as you flickered you eyes between his flashing eyes and lips, determined to get a view of all of Eric. But as your relationship progressed, you two started taking late light walks and going over to each other's apartments.
It was a little nerve-wracking letting someone in like you did Eric, but it was worth it in the long run.
Eric was kind and sweet. He was very attentive and watchful. He seemed to remember little things you told him in passing, as you often found flowers or a piece of your favorite candy in the oddest places.
You learned of his past, something that he was very nervous to open up about. Of course, you were fine with Eric's past, everyone had skeletons in the closet. His past also explained the randomly appearing gifts and the crow that seemed to hover over you and sit on your windowsills.
The falling of both of your walls seemed to allow you two to grow closer, both emotionally and physically.
As for now, you and Eric were out at one of your more frequented clubs. You'd been up and dancing for awhile and you were tired now. You legs were heavy and your knees ached, just begging you to sit and chill out for a few moments. You asked Eric to go get you guys one of the tables on the outside of the room while you got you two some drinks.
You ordered your drinks at one of the bartops and leaned up against the wood, using this opportunity to stretch your knees. A body joined you on your right, which wasn't uncommon but they were a little close for comfort. You heard them order a drink and then you felt their eyes upon you.
"What are you getting?" The person, a man, spoke.
You only glanced at him, "Just a little something to calm my nerves."
"First date?" The man asked.
"No," You answered.
"Must be a sucky date if you're so nervous," The man concluded for himself.
Before you could respond, the unknown man wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. He leaned in and you could feel his breath on your ear and the side of your face. His breath stunk of cheap beer.
"You could ditch your date and come home with me," He practically purred, grossing you out.
Before you could shimmy out from under this man's arm, he was suddenly pulled away from you.
"Hey!" The man protested. "I was just talking!!"
"It looked like a little more than talking," Your savior, Eric, retorted.
The man, shorter than your boyfriend, looked Eric up and down. He looked like he was weighing the outcomes of his decisions.
Eric pushed the man away, causing him to stumble and bump into some people behind him.
"Scram," Eric growled. "Before I do a little more than talk."
The man huffed, grumbled something, and then turned tail. He stalked away and disappeared into the crowd after a couple steps.
"You okay?" Eric's stern expression turned soft once he looked at you.
"Yeah, I'm fine," You reassured him.
The bartender brought you your drinks and you grabbed them both, slowly wandering away from the bar. Eric took one, freeing up one of your hands to loop around his arm that was closest to you. He led you to the table that he'd snagged, which was thankfully still free.
"Thank you," You told Eric, giving him a little smooch to his cheek.
"Anytime, sweetheart," Eric leaned into your kiss.
You two sipped on your drinks for the rest of your visit and then decided to call it a night. You slipped through the crowd and into the chilly, night air. Slowly, you two made your way home.
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peekofhistory · 2 months ago
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Hello there! I recently discovered your blog and it's really wonderful resource. I have a question and maybe you would be able to answer. From what I know the mourning garments are white, and I've seen some in movies or dramas. But I also saw many hanfu or hanfu-like costumes in dramas that predominately use white as a color for characters. So I am a bit confused, if what is considered mourning garment is much different (in style or in cut)? or the white clothes in dramas are just something modern and for aesthetics? I hope I'm making sense here.. Anyways, cheers and thanks in advance!
Unf, such amazing questions, I love it ❤️❤️
I'm going to answer this one very carefully because I don't want to get screamed at for "gatekeeping" 😆 Right off the bat I'm going to put a disclaimer:
Whatever show you enjoy, whichever actor/actress you like, you do you and have a good time. What I'm going to write is ONLY some trends in Chinese TV/movies over the past few decades, I'm not saying any show isn't "good", please don't hate me.
You're absolutely correct that historically, Chinese mourning clothes are white, but not just white, the material is also important. The actual term for mourning is "披麻戴孝" so if we break the words down:
披 (pi) = to wear on the body (like a cape) 麻 (ma) = hemp (fabric) 戴 (dai) = to wear, to hold, to have 孝 (xiao) = filial piety, show honour and love towards one's parents
So it's wearing white hemp and some sort of white fabric on the head to express one's respect for an elder. Mourning wear is only for those who are older than you (ex. parents, grandparents, older siblings, etc.), of a higher rank, or in some cases your superior (ex. solders in a battalion wearing mourning clothes when their captain passes).
I'll use some screenshots from the 1994 version of Romance of the Three Kingdoms as an example:
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Pic 1-3: The emperor has passed away in this situation so everyone is in full mourning attire. His court (pic 1), his concubine (pic 2), his kid (pic 3). If you enlarge the image, you'll see the material they're wearing is quite rough-looking (best seen in pic 3, the other images' resolution aren't great).
Pic 4-6: In this funeral, the Wu Kingdom's Commander of the naval forces has passed away, so almost everyone is in full mourning because that's a very high rank.
Pic 5: You'll see the man on the right isn't in mourning because he's head of the Wu Kingdom, so his rank is higher than the Commander, therefore he doesn't wear mourning clothes.
Pic 6: This man is a visitor and frenemy of the Commander. He's coming from the Shu (Han) Kingdom and because they're not from the same Kingdom, there's no consideration of whose rank is higher or lower. Therefore, he's only worn a strip of white cloth over his hair out of respect (he technically doesn't even need to wear that). Now, obviously, even though he's not required to wear white hemp mourning clothes, it's not a good idea to show up in flashing pink or electric orange (very disrespectful), so he's gone with a soft, pale blue
Pic 7: In this image, a distant relative of the leader of the Shu (Han) Kingdom has passed away (at this point in the show the Kingdom hadn't been established, so he's only the head of a province). This particular relative is younger than everyone present, so; a) he's not ranked above them b) he's not older than them
Therefore, none of them are in full mourning, but they've tied a white cloth to their belt to express respect.
The man in blue, on the right, with the black hat is a visitor from the Wu Kingdom, so much like in Pic 6 he's coming to pay respect to someone not from his Kingdom (doesn't matter the rank) and not his senior) so he's not in mourning clothes (he doesn't even have a white cloth at his belt when he turns around).
So yes, white is traditionally a mourning colour but not all white coloured clothing is for mourning. If you're wearing a white silk robe with embroideries and designs, that's not considered mourning clothes.
Now, having said that, traditionally people still tried to stay away from full on, completely white outfits from head to toe. It's just not a lucky colour to wear. A jacket that's white, or a skirt that's white with a coloured border or some colourful accessories, not a big deal, but if you're going full white in everything...just, no, lol.
As for the Chinese period dramas/movies of today...that's a really deep well to dive through. I'll try to summarize it here and do more detailed posts later on.
TV dramas/movies are never 100% historically accurate, I'm sure everyone knows this, and we don't expect them to be. But for the Chinese entertainment industry it's been becoming less and less accurate in the last 20-25 yrs or so. In terms of clothing/make up/hair/set design/aesthetics in general, there's debate on why these changes have occurred (some say video games, some say foreign aesthetic influence, etc.) but the final result is a LOT of the costumes you see in period dramas today are very, very not historically accurate or even fitting to what is considered "traditional" Chinese aesthetics.
There's a LOT of these "Xianxia" shows going around, stories about immortals and "Gods", "xian/ 仙". I guess the character designers today feel that white somehow makes the characters feel more "immortal", more other-worldly, an imported aesthetic mainly from the West where "white" has been associated with "purity". There's actually growing push-back from the Chinese audience inside China against the character designs in recent years because people are beginning to feel like we're losing OUR aesthetic, these designs aren't what OUR Gods and immortals traditionally looked like. Here's a comparison:
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On the left we have some shows and movies from the 80s and 90s, on the right we have more recent shows.
I'll be honest...some of the clothes on the right I barely consider "Hanfu". That's not to say they're not pretty, but the Hanfu influence in them is so small at some point I start thinking, "You're essentially wearing a large-sleeved dress...". In addition to the clothes, there's the hair, the makeup, even the buildings...they're...kind of East Asian styled but not really? I can't even say they're Chinese-styled because it's so generically East Asian some of these set designs.
Traditional Chinese aesthetics favoured bold colours, and the more power and wealth you had the larger the hair styles for women, with rich, beautiful accessories. Gardens and buildings are not minimalistic at all (that leans more Japanese style), rooms are not large and empty, even in large buildings each individual room are sectioned to be fairly small. There's a running joke on Bilibili (Chinese youtube) that the Heavens have gone bankrupt these days because the costumes, the hair, and buildings look so...bare xDD
Some audiences will say these shows are fiction anyway, not set in any particular time or country but...I mean, clearly they're not writing about a Western immortal or an African God, these stories are set in the frame of Chinese characters.
In any case, basically what I'm saying is, take the Hanfu you see in dramas/movies with a grain of salt. Sometimes with a whole bag of salt. It's absolutely no problem to like them, enjoy them, cosplay them, buy them, but don't link them to anything with history unless you do some research.
And again, not saying any show is good or bad, enjoy whatever you want, this is only an opinion regarding trends in Chinese period dramas/movies. If you'd like to see what a traditional Chinese image of "Heaven" and immortals look like, here's a video from the 1986 version of Journey to the West. This is a show I would say over 80% of Chinese people have seen, most of us watched it as kids. Many, many people think it recreates the image most Chinese people have of what our "Heaven" looks like:
Src: 嗑学家与挑剔学家 【86版西游记演出了中国传统神仙该有的样子】 https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1DV4y1g73N/
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campgender · 4 months ago
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Quim Issue #5 (1994)
[image description: a cropped image of a magazine in black and white. at the top is the question “how can you be a lesbian and sleep with boys?” echoed by the words “call yourself a lesbian.” below this are answers with different text formatting for different responses. a black and white cartoon in the bottom right corner shows two people in skirts saying “what on earth was that about?” “haven’t a clue.”
the responses read:
I hardly ever actually slept with them. Of course you can and many of us do. Having sex with men is a diversion I allow myself every 6-8 years. They become more exciting by being forbidden.
I am a lesbian because of the people I choose to live my life with. Occasionally fucking a man doesn’t change that.
I don’t, I call myself bisexual.
My lesbianism means that I am only physically, mentally and emotionally attracted to women. Though I have had good one-off sex with men in the past, that’s as far as it goes. As far as sexual relationships go they don’t feature.
The few occasions I have done it I have had no problem dealing with it at all. I know I’m a dyke – and one of the benefits of being a dyke is having the choice and occasion to do what the hell you like. If I want to shag a bloke then I will (if nothing else to remind me why I never really wanted to sleep with them in the first place!)
If I was interested enough to commit myself to getting good sex with men, there’d come a point when I’d call myself bi-sexual. Anything I engage and put myself into is something to be proud of, so I’d be proud to call myself bi-sexual. But I don’t feel proud of what I have ever felt or done with men in bed, so the label doesn’t apply.
Easy. I am a lesbian and I sleep with guys every once in a while. Which I know many dykes do but they’re just too scared to admit thinking that women will see them in a different light. Most dykes get the 7 year itch even when they don’t admit it to themselves.
I can’t see a way of sleeping with a man/men on a regular basis and calling yourself a lesbian.
Easy.
I can fall in love with women in a matter of minutes. I have never fallen for a man in the same way.
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david-talks-sw · 7 months ago
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"The Acolyte" wasn't 'woke' propaganda.
I had my issues with the show (you can check out my other posts to see what they were) but there's this notion that The Acolyte was created to spread The Message™ of "woke propaganda"... and I think there's a bit of a mix-up going on, there.
Because that's simplifying things a lot.
When you're a minority, you're not "being woke" when you're just being yourself! Conversely, you're not "writing to be woke" when you're a minority drawing inspiration from your personal experiences to tell a story.
I talked before about how George Lucas implemented elements of his personal life in his own films. In his own words:
"There's no way to write without writing from yourself. Y'know, the stuff gets made out of things that you care about… whether you've actually lived them or not. There are emotional issues that you deal with, and I think that's always a major factor with any writer. I don’t think— it's hard to write without having some kind of emotional connection to the material. I've never seen any reason not to. It’s easy to write that way. It's hard to write in the abstract. So when I write a scene, I write a scene that moves me or I care about, or is something that is personal to me." - George Lucas, Q&A with Lynne Hale, 1994 (StarWars.com)
Any piece of writing worth some salt needs to come from a personal place to some degree because that's where the heart of the story, the truth, lies. That's what an audience will relate to.
Example: The six original Star Wars films are purely George Lucas. As in, everything in those films, from the characters, to the cinematography, to the editing style, etc are all a reflection of who George is as a person and what he stands for:
anti-Vietnam / "fight the corporate & imperial machine"
60s-70s white kid from Modesto, California
single father of three
who defines himself as Methodist-Buddhist,
has an anthropology major and
a passion for Kurosawa,
cinema vérité,
cinema history in general
art and visuals and
car racing.
You see all that in those films.
Same thing with The Acolyte.
Leslye Headland drew from her personal experiences.
Among other things, Leslye is gay. So that's what she uses as inspiration to, for instance, craft Qimir's character motivation.
"I was on the treadmill being like, “What is [Qimir] gonna say?!” And my wife, who is a huge part of my creative process, finally she said, “What do you wanna say? Stop thinking of it like you have to somehow tap into a different guy.” [...] I was like, “I wanna say that people don't want me to exist as a gay woman, as a woman in this particular space, working in this wild sandbox.” There was a whole crew of people who believed in me, but deep down, I felt like, “I am unaccepted for who I am because of what I believe in and wanting to wield my power the way I'd like without having to answer to the legion of people that just exist out there.”" - Leslye Headland, Collider, 2024
She took this specific life experience of hers, and then made it more universal, so that a bigger audience could relate to it.
"By the way, I think everybody feels this way. I think that's why it resonates when you're honest about yourself, and you get personal about it. When [Qimir] says, “I want freedom,” that's what I want. I just want freedom. I want to be able to just be out there and be myself and be the type of artist I want to be without having to answer to anybody." - Leslye Headland, Collider, 2024
Same goes with Osha and Sol's relationship, or how she defines the Jedi Order. It derives from her own relationship with her father and how she felt being raised straight, in a Christian household.
If you have the time, listen to this audio clip where she describes that.
In the context of the whole interview, her voice goes down a few octaves and starts to crack a bit. This is a vulnerable moment, when she's talking about it... and it's this experience that she turned into fuel for her writing of Sol and Osha's father/daughter bond.
"There's this thing that's called benign sexism, and part of it is this paternal protectionism — it seems like this good thing, but like you said, there's this, “I have to protect you from everything. I have to make sure you're okay. I have to tell you what track to get on, and then once you're on that track, I need to support you.” Ultimately, what happens is — again, this is a father-daughter relationship — as women evolve in their lives and develop their own personalities separate from their fathers, at some point, they have to reject that protectionism. [...] She cannot stay a little girl or an adolescent or young adult. She has to, at some point, say, “I reject what you have told me I need to do to make you proud, to follow in your footsteps.” She has to do that." - Leslye Headland, Collider, 2024
Now... if we're talking consistency with the themes in Lucas' Star Wars, then yeah, The Acolyte misses the mark.
The Jedi Order isn't the patriarchy or the Catholic Church. They're more like Buddhist monks, George has stated so multiple times.
The Jedi teachings aren't narratively meant to be the same traits found in toxic masculinity or benign sexism.
When a Jedi tells you to be mindful of your emotions, it's not meant in the "boys don't cry" sense.
When they talk about letting go of attachments, it's not meant in a stoic "don't get emotionally involved" sense.
Anakin too, the whole point is that he's wrong, the narrative frames his fall to the Dark Side as his own fault, it's not meant to be perceived as a failure in upbringing.
But she's not the only one who does it. Filoni does it too, a majority of fans have this take on the Jedi.
And because of her experiences, I can see why her takeaway would be that. Same goes for Filoni, they're products of their generation, upbringing and experiences.
My point is:
Leslye Headland is writing from a personal place, when she's writing The Acolyte. It's partially informed by her politics because - like she quotes, "personal is political" - but when it comes to the writing of the show, it's personal first and foremost.
What this was, was a Star Wars fan (arguably the nerdiest one we've had so far, in terms of creators) putting all of herself in the creation of a show that perfectly reflects who she is and what she stands for, resulting in:
a story about growing past your father's paternal control and accepting that our guides aren't infallible,
where her wife holds a role and gets to wield a lightsaber,
a show about taking corrupt religious institutions to task
about the Sith and the Dark Side
and questioning the unquestionable
and exploring whether the good are really so good and if the bad are really so bad.
This was a project written from the heart, and regardless of whether the resulting art found its mark, I think it's important to note that it wasn't written to spread a propaganda message in some "pro-woke holy war" or whatever the hell the YouTubers are peddling.
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