“I don’t know,” I mumbled, staring at the nk wall. “I miss him so much, but then I remember how


    he lied to me -let me think he was gone when he wasn’t–and all I wanna do is punch him. Maybe


    kick him too.”


    Lena gave me a knowing nod. “Totally fair. If he shows up, I’ll hold him down so you can get a solid


    kick in. He deserves it for putting you through all this crap.”


    Honestly, my busted knee turned out to be a decent excuse to take a breather. The next morning,


    though? Absolute torture. The pain was so bad I couldn’t even crawl out of bed.


    Too bad I only had one day to chill. The big light show was the day after tomorrow, and the human


    light disy- my geniusst–minute idea–was 100% my problem.


    So there I was, limping my way onto the venue. Ron took one look at me and froze. “Whoa. Should


    I grab you a wheelchair or something? You look like you’re dying.”


    I sighed, rolling up my pant leg to show him the damage. His jaw dropped. “Holy crap, that’s bad! I


    thought it was just a bruise. Did you, like, go to the ER?”


    “It’s fine. I’m not dying,” I said, brushing it off like no big deal.


    Before he could go full mom–mode, the room shifted. A group of guys in sleek ck suits and


    matching shirts strode in, stealing all the attention.


    All content is property ? N?velDrama.Org.


    Ron blinked, clearly impressed. “Are those the models? Dang, they’re like, absurdly hot.”


    “Obviously. DracoLux never misses,” I said as they headed our way.


    Just as I was about to figure out who was in charge, a luxury car pulled up like it owned the ce.


    Out stepped Cole, rocking shades and a ridiculously crisp white outfit.


    “Hey,e check this out,” he said, all smug and self–satisfied.


    I nodded, giving him credit where it was due. “They look amazing. Seriously, great job.”


    But of course, Ron wasn’t done. He squinted at the group, counting under his breath. “Wait. There’s


    only six. Weren’t we supposed to have seven?”


    I turned to Cole, who just pointed toward the bathrooms. “One’s got a sensitive stomach. He’ll be


    back in time, don’t worry. We’re still golden.”


    “Fine. Get them into their outfits and start arranging positions,” I said, checking the time. “And tell


    your guy with the stomach drama to hurry back. I don’t need him throwing off the lineup.”


    Cole shed me an exaggerated OK sign. “Sure thing. Want toe with me to check on


    everything?”


    I nodded and moved forward without thinking–big mistake. The sharp stab in my knee almost


    dropped me. I -hissed, wobbling like a baby deer.


    Cole caught me mid–stumble, his reflexes annoyingly on point. “Whoa there. What’s up? Heels too


    high?”


    Heels? Please. More like bad leg.


    Ron jumped in, his voice all serious. “I’m getting you a wheelchair.”


    Cole frowned, ncing between Ron and me and asked, “What’s going on? Where are you hurt?”


    I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”


    Ignoring him and the pain, I limped toward the backstage area. Naturally, Cole followed, probably


    trying to solve this “mystery injury.”


    “Did you fall? Get into a fight? Someone push you?”


    His imagination really was something.


    “Rx, Sherlock,” I said, sighing. “I tripped… while bowing in prayer.”


    “I tripped while, uh… while attempting a super graceful victory pose,” I said, deadpan.


    He gave me a look. “Yeah, sure. If someone’s messing with you, just say the word.”


    “It’s fine,” I said, brushing him off as we reached the backstage area.


    The models were already in their outfits, and the lights dimmed for the big reveal. Suddenly, the


    suits lit up, glowing with vibrant, shifting patterns that moved as they did–like a living kaleidoscope.


    I froze,pletely mesmerized. It was stunning, next–level genius. And by some miracle, another


    unnned moment had turned into a win.


    Since Hayden’s passing, my life had been a weird mix of chaos and surprising victories–like the


    universe was throwing me pity points.


    “We’re still one short,” the lighting tech pointed out. “When’s thest guy showing up?”


    “Here hees!” someone called.


    The final model stepped onto the stage.


    The room stayed dim, the glow of the suits casting just enough light to outline him as he moved into


    view. It was barely a second, but something about him made my heart lurch.