(The clatter of plates and Fiona’s piercing laugh are my daily soundtrack. I stare out the kitchen window, my hands wrinkled from dishwater, tracing a grease smudge that looks out onto the San Fernando Valley. Beyond the smudge, the lights of Universal CityWalk glitter, a universe away.)

POV: Satsuki Montgomery

Here, I’m just “the help.” My life is a loop: 4 AM alarm, prep the diner, school, back to the diner until midnight, sleep, repeat. My only crack of light is my phone, where I talk to someone who feels like a fresh breath.

His name is Akira Ames.

We’ve never met. It started two years ago in a late-night forum for travel photography. We just… found the same rhythm. He’s insightful, has a quiet humor. He doesn’t know I scrub fryers. He knows Satsuki—my dreams of seeing the world. He thinks I’m at a strict boarding school back East.

My real escape is the old clock tower of North Valley High. I go there to breathe. And one day, I saw him there. Akira Ames. Son of the Ames Hotel empire, the most popular guy at school. He was just sitting there, camera in his lap, looking out with a quiet longing I recognized.

I ducked back. He never saw me. And I never told my online Akira. How could the thoughtful boy from my messages be this untouchable king?

The split blew apart with the announcement: The Ames Foundation is throwing a masquerade ball at the Hotel Grand. Everyone is going. Everyone but me.

“You’re on the late shift,” Fiona stated. “Be realistic.”

But that night, Akira—my Akira—texted me.

: This masquerade… feels like the most crowded, stationary place on earth. I keep thinking it’d be the only place I’d want to be if you were there.

My heart sank. He was asking me.

That’s when my found family stepped in. Carter, the diner cook, and Danita, my best friend, ambushed me.

“We’ve been skimming your tips,” Carter mumbled, handing me cash.

Danita grinned, holding up a garment bag. “We’re making you a dress. You’re going.”

A miracle was assembled. Danita worked wonders with moss-green silk and gold embroidery. Carter produced gold sandals. My mask was a vintage treasure.

The night of the ball, my knees knocked. Using Carter’s beat-up Jeep, I arrived at the Hotel Grand. I froze. Then, I walked up the steps.

Inside was a fantasy. I spotted him. Akira. By a massive window, in a tux, a simple black mask. He looked… adrift.

I didn’t think. I walked up.

“It feels more like a horizon here, doesn’t it?” I said softly.

He turned. His eyes found mine and held. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face. “I was starting to think I was the only one who saw it.”

He offered his hand. I took it.

For a few hours, I wasn’t Satsuki the diner girl. I was just a girl in a green dress, talking about distant coasts with a boy who spoke my secret language. It was perfect.

But as midnight loomed, panic seized me.

“I have to go,” I whispered, pulling away.

“Wait! Please, tell me your name,” he called.

I didn’t answer. I just ran, one gold sandal slipping off on the marble staircase. I left it behind.

Now, back in my grease-spotted uniform, it feels like a dream. But in my apron pocket, my phone vibrates.

: I met someone tonight. It was like finding north. I need to meet you, Satsuki. For real. Tomorrow. At the school tower. Sunset.

I grip the phone. He’s asking to meet Satsuki. But which version? The girl from the messages, or the girl from the horizon? And when he finds out they’re the same girl who buses his table… what then?

The ball is over. Now I have to step onto the solid, terrifying ground of truth.