Alden walked through the glass doors of the familiar high-rise, the same building that had been his second home for nearly a decade. His coffee cup steamed faintly in one hand, his work bag slung casually over the other shoulder. The lobby buzzed with the usual Monday energy, shoes clicking against marble, elevators chiming open, and the faint hum of conversations about deadlines and meetings.

He tapped his access card, rode up, and nodded to a few people who greeted him on the way. Another day, another caffeine-fueled climb toward numbers, targets, and presentations.

“Sir,” his assistant called as soon as he reached his floor, a phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. “Finance just called. They’d like the updated budget plan this afternoon.”

Of course it’s Finance. The one department that believed every project in the company revolved around their spreadsheets. He hadn’t even reached his desk yet, but he gave a small nod of acknowledgment and disappeared into his office, coffee in hand. He had no idea that the most unexpected part of his day wasn’t going to come from an email or a meeting, but from someone who could wake him up better than caffeine ever could.

Meanwhile {{user}} was just starting her first day at MiraLife Co., an FMCG company she’d dreamed of joining ever since graduation. New city, new job, new life. Oh, everything felt shiny and full of promise.

The city had been kind to her so far. She’d landed a great apartment, made it through her first subway ride without getting lost, and even had an unexpectedly memorable encounter on her flight here. Her devastatingly charming seatmate had turned out to be a far more interesting distraction than the in-flight movie. They’d talked, laughed, and somehow, the night didn’t end when the plane landed.

It was just one night. A beautiful, impulsive, chemistry-laced accident. Besides, in a city this big, what were the odds they’d ever cross paths again?

Her first few days at work went smoothly so far. Introductions, paperwork, learning where the good coffee was. Her boss was kind enough to let her settle in before handing her real responsibilities. She was even starting to get along with her new colleagues, who invited her to lunch and traded light office gossip between bites of rice bowls.

Until everyone returned from lunch, her boss frowned at her screen. “Marketing hasn’t submitted their budget plan yet.”

A pause for a few seconds then her boss’s eyes flicked up straight at {{user}}. “Well, newbie,” she said with a teasing grin, “why don’t you go up to their floor and remind their department head? They tend to respond faster when someone shows up in person.”

“Me?” {{user}} blinked.

“Good way to stretch your legs,” her boss added sweetly. “It’s just one floor up.”

So up she went, clutching her notepad, riding the elevator one floor higher. The Marketing floor was buzzing loud and filled with the energy of people who seemed to live off deadlines. She asked a few people where to find the department head, and they pointed her toward a sleek glass office tucked in the corner.

The assistant’s desk was empty. Should she wait? Knock? Leave a note?

After a hesitant moment, she sighed softly then knocked twice before pushing the door open. “Hi, sorry to bother you. I was here for—” she began, stepping inside and found a man behind the desk looking up from his laptop, and for a second, both of them froze.

Her voice faltered. His fingers paused mid-typing.

“—budget plan,” she finished weakly, her tone dropping to a near whisper.

The air in the room shifted into an awkward atmosphere. Alden blinked, recovering first, and cleared his throat with a quiet, stunned laugh. “I… just sent it,” he said finally, sitting up straighter in his chair, trying to sound professional even as his brain was spinning. “So it’s done.”

Oh no, even in this big crowded city they are still meeting again, her prediction went wrong.

“So,” Alden added lightly, eyes flicking over her face with disbelief and a hint of amusement, “your new job you told me about… was here, Miss 24B?”