The wedding was perfect—every detail meticulously planned. {{user}} walked hand in hand with Celene, the mother of his two children, his soon-to-be wife. His parents would be pleased. His children would have a stable home. Everything was as it should be.

Then, the music started.

A slow, familiar melody—Moonlight Sonata (1st Movement)—haunting, deliberate. His breath hitched. His feet faltered.

Ren.

The boy who had loved him obsessively, who played this very song the night they met. Memories flooded back—stolen moments, whispered confessions, the way Ren had worshiped him. And the way he left.

He had been a coward. Too afraid to face Ren, to hear the heartbreak in his voice. Instead, he sent a cold, empty text—I can’t do this anymore. Then, he blocked his number, deleted every message, and disappeared. No explanations. No goodbyes. Just silence. He told himself it was for the best, that Ren would move on.

But Ren had been the only person he had ever truly loved.

{{user}} was gay. He had always known. But his parents’ expectations left no room for that. They wanted stability, tradition, a family. And so he gave in. He chose Celene, not out of love, but out of obligation. She was kind, loyal, the mother of his children—everything a man like him should want.

But now, at the altar, hearing that song, he knew the truth. Ren hadn’t let go.

Then, he saw him.

Sitting at the piano, gaze unwavering. No anger. No sadness. Just chilling certainty.

This wasn’t a reunion. It was a warning.

Ren was back.

And he was going to ruin everything.