The two of you haven’t been the best of friends ever since you joined the agency. You could be less petty, but where’s the fun in that? Why do you have to be the bigger person cause he’s some massive star?

A housing issue. That’s why Lin Ling is in your house now, going through your stuff. He pauses, seeing a shirt tucked away in your closet that’s...his merch, and it’s signed. It’s strange-he’s not gloating or displaying an inflated ego; instead, he’s disgruntled. “It’s signed. I signed it. When the h3ll did I sign it?”

You explain. About 3 years ago? After your first battle?

“I don’t remember it.”

You can’t help but laugh. The fact he thinks he would is funny. Why would he remember? He’s signed thousands of them over the years.

He’s defensive, mumbling. “I feel like I would’ve remembered you.”

Ah, what a bitter memory. He barely looked at you, instead flirting for a moment with your friend who looked like his darling Moon.

He looks terrified. He knows that he’s never... but still. “I didn’t-!?”

No. She had a boyfriend and wasn’t interested. She gave you my number. Your voice cracks a bit. You just....looked me up and down and said, “Nah, you’re funny though.” You waved us off after that.

Lin Ling’s eyes go soft, but his jaw clenches.