Chapter 80 — The Moment Before the Shift
Milan, Day Two — 11:03 AM
The skies above Milan were washed in a palette of soft blue and pale amber, the morning sun bleeding warmth into every cobblestone. It was the kind of day that asked you to forget the world had ever been heavy. The air was light, sweet with the smell of blooming wisteria and espresso drifting from corner cafés.
But for AUREUS, it was anything but a vacation.
Their schedule was brutal.
Rehearsals. Interviews. Fan signings. Site checks.
Manager Lee moved like a man possessed. Armed with two phones, a tablet, and a radio headset, he commanded the group like an orchestra.
"Rin, please stop disappearing into alleyways. This is not a photoshoot."
"Hyunjae, no more filming random dogs for the vlog."
"Sungchan, you cannot propose to the gelato vendor just because he gave you an extra scoop."
But amid the chaos, there was one absence.
Jaeheon.
He was with them—physically. Present at every location, every check-in, every press smile.
But emotionally?
He was somewhere else entirely.
Even the members could feel it.
There was a subtle shift. A delay in his reactions. A quietness behind his usual stillness.
He was moving, but not here.
Hyunjae noticed first. He didn't say anything. Just watched from the corner of his eye as Jaeheon stood a little too long staring out over the Navigli canal.
Minjae cracked a joke once— something light, harmless, about Italian models—and Jaeheon didn't even blink.
Rin nudged him gently at the dinner table. Jaeheon blinked and offered a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Jet lag?" Rin asked quietly.
Jaeheon just nodded.
But it wasn't jet lag.
It was the feeling. That strange, pressing quiet inside his chest.
He couldn't name it.
But it had begun the moment the plane landed.
Milan, Day Two — 2:19 PM
They were given a brief break before the next rehearsal.
The members exploded out of the van like freed schoolboys. Sungchan and Minjae ran toward a famous café Rin had bookmarked weeks ago. Hyunjae followed with his camera, filming them like they were part of a documentary on chaos.
Manager Lee let out a sigh and trailed after them with a warning not to cause international incidents.
And Jaeheon?
He lingered.
The street was old, sun-drenched, humming with the life of mid-afternoon Milan.
He stood beneath the archway of a shadowed building, one hand in his coat pocket, the other still holding his phone.
He hadn't messaged her today.
Not yet.
He typed slowly.
"There's a bridge here, stone and iron, old like it's lived through wars and love stories. I think you'd like it. I almost told Minjae about you today. I didn't."
Delete.
Start again.
"It's too warm here. I thought Italy would be cooler in April. You'd hate it. You always seemed like someone who preferred the cold. Or maybe you just looked cold. I was never sure which it was."
Send.
This time, he didn't look at the screen.
He just kept walking.
Milan, Day Two — 3:11 PM
A break in their schedule allowed for a sliver of freedom.
They found themselves wandering the art district. Jaeheon drifted away from the group, drawn toward a narrow street lined with ivy-covered galleries.
That's when he saw it.
Not her.
Not yet.
But something.
A sliver of gold. A flicker of light. The back of a figure disappearing into a courtyard.
He stopped.
His heart didn't race. His expression didn't change.
But inside, something settled.
It was almost instinct. Like gravity had shifted, pulling him forward.
He didn't follow. Not yet.
He just stood still.
Watching the light where she'd vanished.
Then, behind him—
"Hyung! Gelato!"
Sungchan appeared with two cones, one already melting down his wrist. Jaeheon turned slightly, taking the cone without a word.
"You okay?" Sungchan asked, frowning. "You look like you saw a ghost."
Jaeheon glanced once more at the courtyard.
Empty now.
"...No," he said softly. "Just something familiar."
They didn't press him.
They never did.
But Jaeheon barely touched his gelato.
That night—he would see her.
But he didn't know that yet.
And he didn't know that it would look like she wasn't alone.