"Let's go. I'm sleepy," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.
Before she could protest, I grabbed her wrist and started walking.
"Ice!" she yelped, stumbling beside me.
School projects, festival prep, group complaints—everything was piling up like garbage no one wanted to clean. And now she was walking next to me, scowling, arms crossed like I'd personally insulted her ancestors.
I didn't ask why. I was too tired to care.
The bus station was up ahead, the streets mostly empty this late at night. A cold wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves. We walked in silence—until tires screeched out of nowhere.
A white van swerved in front of us.
"What—?" Fire barely managed to speak before the doors flew open.
A masked man jumped out.
I barely had time to react.
Another four followed.
They moved fast, grabbing us before we could run. I felt ropes bound around my wrists, then cloth covering my eyes. Fire's scream never came—just a sharp inhale, cut off like a hiccup. Everything happened in seconds.
I didn't resist.
I couldn't—not with her right next to me. If I moved, they'd hurt her. Five men, probably armed. Not a fight I could win.
They shoved us into the back of the van. No seats, just the metal floor.
The engine roared to life.
"You didn't even throw a punch!" she hissed.
We sat shoulder to shoulder, wrists bound, knees bumping in the cramped space. Our captors sat up front, talking in low voices.
"There were five of them," I answered flatly.
"And? Maybe try protecting the girl?" she snapped, glaring—at least, I imagined she was.
"Yeah, right," I muttered. Her anger radiated through the darkness.
Definitely not the prince from your cheesy romance novels, I thought. She was always rambling about those stories. I rarely listened. Maybe I should've.
But something wasn't right.
No bruises. No hits. They were oddly... careful. Almost gentle. Even now, no one was watching us. And my blindfold? Loose enough to peek through.
This wasn't a real kidnapping. It felt... staged.
"Is the room ready?" one voice asked from the front.
"Yeah, let's get them inside."
They sounded way too cheerful to be thugs. Like they were preparing a surprise party, not a ransom note.
Beside me, Fire continued muttering.
"You should take self-defense classes or something. What kind of boyfriend can't protect his—"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll sign up next week," I cut in, trying to silence her before the captors got annoyed.
After maybe ten minutes, the van stopped.
Doors opened. Footsteps approached.
Rough hands grabbed us again—not yanking, but guiding. Escorting, almost politely.
"Get down."
"Walk straight."
The voices were calm. Almost respectful.
I adjusted my footing, peeking under the blindfold. Fire was being treated the same. No threats. No shouting. No guns.
We were led down a hallway. Carpeted. Clean.
The smell—soy sauce, grilled fish, fresh miso—hit me immediately.
A restaurant?
Not a warehouse. Not an abandoned building. Definitely not your typical hostage situation.
A private dining room maybe?
"Do something, Ice," Fire whispered, clearly panicking now.
Footsteps approached.
A voice spoke—deep, obviously fake. Like someone forcing it through a voice changer app.
"Greetings. I got you here too."
I tensed. Someone stepped closer to Fire. My hands had been tied loosely—maybe on purpose—and I was ready to strike if he laid a hand on her.
But instead—
"Surprise!" the man pulled off her blindfold.
Fire blinked.
"...Ace?!"
Next Chapter: A blindfold comes off—and Fire steps into a dream.
Gold lights, a private feast, and him—Ace, dazzling as ever, returning with a royal surprise that could outshine any fairytale. He's charming, extravagant, and standing at her side like they were made to be together.
But behind them, Ice walks away. No goodbyes. No explanations. Just silence, cold and bitter.
While the cameras flash and the world applauds, someone else watches from a quiet bus window, the light from his phone dimming, his thoughts louder than ever.
Sometimes, the brightest spotlight leaves the deepest shadow.