The small café hummed with quiet conversations and the occasional clink of cups, but at their corner table, an unmistakable tension hung in the air. Celine leaned back in her chair, her fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, her expression calm but resolute. Across from her, her friend, Lila, sat forward, her hands gesturing animatedly as she tried to reason with her.
"Celine, do you really intend to attend his concert?" Lila asked, her voice low, but insistent. Her brow furrowed, the lines of worry etched into her face.
Celine's lips curled upwards in a slow, almost mischievous smile. "Yes," she replied softly, her eyes bright with a dangerous mix of determination and something Lila couldn't quite place. "I'm definitely attending."
Lila leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Don't do this. You don't understand what you're walking into. If he sees you—" She paused, lowering her voice even further. "If he sees you, he'll kill you. Adrien Wolfe isn't just some singer. You know the kind of power he has. His fans alone—"
"His fans don't frighten me," Celine interrupted, her voice unwavering, almost casual. She took a sip of coffee, never letting her glance waver.
"It's not just the fans, Celine," Lila pressed, her voice rising slightly before she caught herself. She glanced around nervously, ensuring no one else was listening. "It's him. You have no idea how far people like him can go. The bullying, the manipulation—they don't stop until you're completely crushed."
She placed her cup down softly clinking. Her expression hardened. "You think I don't know what he's capable of?" she asked, her voice low but with a sharp edge.
Lila faltered, concern growing inside her. "Then why? Why are you even thinking about this? What could you possibly gain from going there?"
Celine leaned forward, her voice cold yet deliberate. "Because after everything he's done, after leaving me at the edge of life and death, he's living his life so happily. So peacefully." She paused, her gaze distant for a moment before it sharpened again. "I want to see it. Up close. I want to see how peaceful he really is."
Lila's eyes widened. "This isn't just about curiosity, is it?"
Celine's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Call it what you want, Lila. But I need to face him."
"You can't undo the past," Lila said softly, desperation creeping into her tone. "You can't fix what he broke. And if he recognizes you."
"Then I'll deal with it," Celine said firmly, her voice cutting through Lila's protests like a blade.
For a moment, Lila stared at her, searching for any sign of hesitation, any crack in her resolve. But there was none.
"You're risking too much," Lila finally said, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
Celine tilted her head, her expression softening slightly. "I've already lost too much. What's left to risk?"
Lila opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. She sighed, shaking her head. "Just promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"If things go south—if he recognizes you and it gets bad—you'll leave. No hesitation. You'll walk away and never look back."
Celine nodded, but a glint in her eyes said otherwise. "I'll remember that," she said, her voice noncommittal.
Lila exhaled, leaning back in her chair. "I hope you know what you're doing."
Celine simply smiled again, the kind of smile that carried secrets. "So do I."
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"Class, this is Celine," the teacher said in a crisp, professional tone. "She has come here on scholarship so, give her a warm welcome,"
Celine stood in the front of the classroom. Her heart was pounding at the excitement of this long-awaited opportunity to prove her self, to be able to finally be in such a place where she felt her abilities could shine bright. She held her head high, confident posture above the nervous fluttering going on in her chest, though. The prestigious school had always seemed out of reach, but now she was finally here.
She let out a nod and gestured that she should sit, to which Celine walked to the back of the class toward an empty desk. Sitting down, she felt herself being weighed under the attention of the class. She saw some whispering with judgmental glances thrown in her direction, others mumbled half-hearted welcomes out of politeness. But then, she spotted him.
He sat in the row closest to the window, his face half-hidden in the sunlight streaming through the glass. His features were impossibly sharp, from the tousled dark hair to the chiseled jawline that seemed to belong on a model. His eyes were a piercing silver gray eyes, and when they flicked over to meet hers, something inside her clenched.
Her heart, which had been steady just a moment before, now galloped wildly. She caught her breath in her throat and looked away hastily, feeling an unfamiliar flush creep up her neck. But even as she tried to distract herself, her thoughts kept returning to him—the boy whose mere glance had unsettled her so deeply.
She couldn't quite explain it. There was something magnetic about him, a quiet intensity that made her feel both exposed and drawn to him at the same time. His gaze lingered for a beat longer than necessary, as if assessing her, before he turned back to the front of the class.
Celine glanced at him again. Her heart was still thundering in her chest. She looked down at the desk, trying to steady her breathing. The mocking whispers around her continued, but it was the boy—his gaze, his presence—that lingered in her mind, stealing her focus.
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Snapping back into focus, Adrien lifted his hand to his earpiece. "Lock all the arena doors," he ordered low and commanding, sending a ripple of urgency through his team. "No one leaves this place right now."
"Wait, what? Adrien, what's—" his manager stammered through the line, but Adrien had already moved.
Without a word, he stepped off the stage. He moved at such speed that his team seemed to collapse into chaos behind him. Fans screamed louder as they saw him step off of the platform; it had to be part of the show. Security scrambled for a path through for him, but Adrien waited not. He wove through the crowd with an almost surgical precision in the long strides, never looking back as his eyes fixed on her.