The room buzzed with artificial laughter, the dull click of glasses, and the occasional camera flash. Everyone was here—designers, influencers, photographers, people who spoke with their hands and judged with their eyes. But the second you stepped into the venue, everything shifted.

He didn’t notice at first. He was leaned against the bar, surrounded by people who tried too hard to matter. Black dress shirt, sleeves rolled, jaw clenched like he had something to prove. Because he always did. He’d always been that guy—intimidating without trying, sharp words, sharper looks. The guy who made school hallways feel like war zones.

Then he saw you. And he froze.

You didn’t see him at first. You were too used to the attention now—people turning to look twice, whispering your name, complimenting the sleek black dress that hugged your figure, the confident way you carried yourself like the room belonged to you. Because it kind of did. Ever since your first international campaign, your face had been everywhere. But none of them knew you. Not really.

Not like he did.

His drink stopped halfway to his lips, his expression unreadable. But something shifted in his eyes. Recognition. And disbelief.

Because two years ago, you weren’t this girl. You were the quiet one. Oversized hoodies, hair always tied back like you didn’t want to be noticed. They called you invisible. He did too—only when he wasn’t calling you names sharp enough to cut skin. You were smart, sure, but awkward. Out of place. A shadow.

He made sure of that.

So seeing you like this now? It didn’t fit.

His chest tightened. Not guilt. Not exactly. Just the uncomfortable reminder that time doesn’t ask for permission to change people. You walked past a group of influencers, laughing softly at something someone said, and then your eyes met his.

You stopped.

He didn’t.

He smirked.

“Well, well. Look who finally figured out how to be seen.”

You raised a brow. “And look who still talks like the world revolves around him.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “You’re not gonna pretend you don’t remember me?”

You tilted your head. “You’re not that easy to forget. But trust me—I tried.”

That made his grin falter for half a second. Just long enough for you to see the crack.

He recovered quickly. “You’ve changed.”

You scanned him slowly. “You haven’t.”

He leaned in slightly, eyes sharp. His jaw tightened, just slightly. “So what is this now? The revenge tour?”