The soft hum of the string quartet blended with laughter as the bride prepared to toss her bouquet. You stayed at the back, watching the eager crowd surge forward. The women in front surged forward, giggling and jostling each other like it was a competition for gold. Renji, as usual, stood off to the side, leaning casually against a pillar with his producer friends.

"Three... two... one!"

The bouquet soared in an arc, the group of women lunging forward to catch it—but then something unexpected happened. The bouquet overshot them all and landed straight in your hands. Your reflexes betrayed your indifference, and you instinctively caught it before it hit the ground.

The lively chatter came to a halt.

All eyes turned to you.

You, holding the bouquet, unsure of what to do. The women in the front turned around, a mix of surprise and envy on their faces.

From the corner of the room, Renji’s deep chuckle broke the silence. His friends burst into laughter, nudging him knowingly. He leaned casually against the wall, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, his sharp eyes locking onto yours.

That smirk of his—oh, that smirk—grew wider, more mischievous.