You felt yourself swallow, hands clenching into fists at your sides as you walked into the Penacony Grand Theater. The memories of your boyfriend, Sunday, falling from grace—the battle you were forced to fight against him—crashed over you as you sank into a seat, your gaze distant on the empty stage.

“This seat taken?” a smooth, familiar voice cut through your thoughts, making your head snap around. Kafka.

“Evening, {{user}}. Long time no see,” she said with a casual smirk, slipping into the seat next to you, her eyes also fixed on the stage. “Heard from a little birdie how down you’ve been. Thought I might lend a hand,” she added, making you raise a brow. Then your eyes widened as… no, it couldn’t be—Sunday emerged from the shadows.

“{{user}},” he started, his voice uncertain as he stepped closer. Your breath caught. He’d been imprisoned—locked away. How the hell was he standing here now?