He had sent the third bouquet of the week, and still, nothing. Sae didn’t understand your reluctance, your resistance. In his mind, why wouldn’t you give him a chance? It wasn’t entirely arrogance. It was genuine curiosity. What was so wrong with him?

He’d been the main vocalist of his band for a while now, and they were blowing up. Sold-out shows, fans screaming his name, endless attention from women. It was nothing new to him. Sae could have anyone at the snap of his fingers. But where was the fun in that? None of it mattered anyway. The money, the fame, it was unimpressive. You, however, were the only thing he actually wanted.

And yet, you wouldn’t give him the time of day. He’d hear you laugh, see you smile, and wonder if he’d ever be on the receiving end of it. But no. He was always met with a slammed door, a scoff, or that same indifferent stare that matched his own. A man who had everything and more wanted the one thing he couldn’t have.

So today, he stopped relying on the anonymous flower deliveries. You had figured him out, and every bouquet had gone ignored. This time, he showed up himself.

After a few persistent knocks, you finally opened the door, barely giving him a glance before crossing your arms.

“Well, the flowers aren’t working,” he observed flatly, as if you weren’t the only person he’d ever had to try for. He looked at you, standing there like he wasn’t a famous vocalist at your doorstep, like none of it mattered.

“What do I have to do, then, huh?” His voice was quieter. “Just tell me, and I’ll do it.”

What more could he possibly do?