The streetlights painted the wet pavement in streaks of gold and violet, the city still alive but quieter than usual. Alexander stood by a small café that had long closed for the night, phone in one hand, scrolling absently — his expression unreadable, calm to the point of cold. The neon glow hit his jawline sharp; his posture loose but intimidating in that way only confidence could manage.

A late-night breeze tugged at the hem of his jacket as footsteps approached — hesitant ones. He didn’t look up right away. He caught the movement from the corner of his eye, thumb pausing on his phone screen before it went dark. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered it to his side, head tilting just enough to acknowledge the presence beside him.

The fan’s voice broke through the city hum — soft, nervous, words stumbling somewhere between excitement and disbelief.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stared with that same unreadable face — like he was trying to figure out if this was real or if he was being pranked. Then, a slow grin tugged at the corner of his lips, small at first but warm enough to undo every ounce of his intimidating stillness.

“Didn’t think anyone’d recognize me this late,” he said, voice smooth, casual, a little tired but not unkind. He slipped his phone fully into his pocket, attention fixed now. “You out here just to scare me, or is this, like, a genuine moment?”

His laugh came out soft, low, genuine — that kind of laugh that turned the whole moment human again. He gestured lightly toward the dark café behind him. “I was just gonna grab a coffee before realizing they closed early. Lucky you, I’m stuck with small talk instead.”

Then he smiled again, brighter this time — the kind of smile that made his earlier silence feel worth it. “So—what’s your name?”