the whole city was shining.

new york never slept, but that night... it seemed to sigh.

helicopters flew over the black sky, lights moved like artificial constellations, and luxury cars moved slowly through the closed streets, carrying legends, stars, modern gods dressed in silk and daring. was the met gala. the greatest altar of fashion, fame, the impossible. and you... were inside it.

in the backseat of the dark limousine, sitting alone, wearing the most absurd dress that had ever touched your skin. golden, tight and sculptural, covered in tiny diamonds and glitter that made your body look sculpted in the light. every step you took that night would be broadcast to the entire world. but you didn't think about that.

you thought about him.

your phone trembled in your hand with a notification. was him. always was. he never failed to find you in the middle of the chaos.

— i swear i can't stay one more minute without you here.

you smiled, your fingers sliding quickly across the screen.

— i'm cominnn'! almost there. — you replied. — are you using your phone in there?

— ofc. rules are nothing baby. — he typed back. you laughed in desblief.

seconds later, he responded with a selfie. tailored black suit, perfectly combed hair, but grimacing with the caption:

— i feel stupid.

you laughed. not loudly. just a contained, warm laugh, stuck in your throat. no one would understand. no one knew. but he... he always managed to get that out of you. even from across town. even with the ocean of silence between you.

you stared at the photo for longer than you should have. it wasn't the pose — was the gesture. the fact that he stopped everything, in the middle of preparing for a gigantic night, just to make you laugh. just to remind you that, behind the flashes and the perfection, you were still just you.

his group would be there too. bigbang never went unnoticed. and you would be one of the last to arrive. separately. as always. the world saw artists. saw public figures. via symbols. not the love you protected like someone hiding a rough diamond between their ribs.

you typed back slowly:

— bae, you look so cute.♡

was this kinda message that melted him and make him feel like a 5-year-old boy being praised by mom. he love you.

he saw it. didn't respond right away. you imagined him smiling. maybe sitting a little away from the stylists. maybe wishing he could go with you in the same limousine.

the car stopped. the driver announced that they were about to open the door. the flashes were already burning outside. the assistant waited on the other side, with an anxious look. you put away your cell phone, took a deep breath, checked the jewelry on your fingers, the invisible straps of your dress, the crystal heels that were too tight.

and the met gala would be just another stage where you knew... that there were two hearts hidden under the most expensive outfit in the world.