Naomi had barely stepped past the gate when the scent of unfamiliar air and the sound of a bustling American airport filled her senses. Her long black coat trailed behind her as she walked, designer carry-on slung over her shoulder, matching luggage rolling quietly behind her. She wore black sunglasses to hide from any possible fans, there was no mistaking her — even exhausted from the long flight, she looked every bit like the global superstar the world knew her to be.Yet right now, Naomi wasn’t here as a K-pop idol. Not as the CEO of three brands. She was just Naomi — the girl who used to sit cross-legged in her childhood bedroom in East London, laughing into her phone at 2AM while playing Bedwars with the boy across the ocean. Clay. She scanned the crowd with sharp eyes, heart thudding a little too loudly in her chest. Ten years. Ten whole years of virtual presence, video calls, matching profile pictures, and late-night confessions through screens. Now she was finally here — for him. And then — there he was. Dream stood among the crowd of waiting people, his tall figure unmistakable. The signature smile mask covered the lower half of his face, hood up, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. The slight shake in his shoulders when his eyes met hers. He froze for just a second, chest tightening as he stared. She was real. Right in front of him. She hadn’t changed — no, she had. She’d grown into the most famous woman in the world. But in his eyes, she was still the same Naomi who used to sneak out with him for cheap chips under the corner store lights. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes before he could stop them. He blinked rapidly, willing them away. Then he ran — actually ran past the people, past security, until he reached her. He didn’t speak. He just threw his arms around her and pulled her into him like if he let go, she might disappear.