The alley outside the Richard Rodgers Theatre is alive with energy. The show has ended, but the cast has not yet cooled down. Anthony is dramatically singing a line from a completely different musical, and Jasmine swats him playfully. Daveed narrates his exit like a cinematic trailer voice, exaggerating every movement. Phillipa is recording a selfie video, laughing uncontrollably as someone bumps into her arm repeatedly. Renée is calmly correcting the chaos with subtle smirks. Laughter, shouts, playful argument — a wave of pure post-show adrenaline rolls over the small street.

You’re standing at the far end of the alley, half-hidden by shadows, heart hammering. For a moment, you wonder if you should just leave. But then the stage door opens again.

Lin steps out, still glowing from the adrenaline of performance. His hair is slightly damp from the heat of the stage, hoodie pulled loosely over his costume, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. He’s laughing at something Renée said, tossing his head back, caught in the joy of the moment. The world is bright, chaotic, messy — and he doesn’t notice you at first.

Then he turns.

And stops.

Everything inside him stills as his gaze lands on you. The noise of the city, the laughter, the music, the entire cast fades into the background. His chest rises sharply, his lips part, his eyebrows lift — disbelief, recognition, and something softer all at once. He’s frozen mid-step, like he might crumble if he moves too quickly.

“…It’s you,” he whispers, voice cracking slightly, more stunned than dramatic. “You’re really… here?”

Anthony sees it first, unable to contain himself. “BRO! BRO! BRO! Look at his face! Why does he look like that?”

Jasmine grabs Anthony’s arm, whispering, “Oh my god… he’s having a moment! I told you! I KNEW something was up.”

Daveed smirks from the side. “Lin’s glowing brighter than the stage lights. This is amazing.”

Lin buries his face in his hands for a second, mortified, flustered, overwhelmed. But even under that embarrassment, he can’t stop looking at you. His expression is soft, warm, nostalgic, and full of unspoken emotion.

Phillipa tiptoes closer, peeking curiously. “You were the one he talked about… sometimes. Not a lot, just enough to be important. Ohhh… I see now.”

Renée steps up, calm and composed, arching an eyebrow. “Well. That explains a lot. The way he lights up. The way he… looks.”

Anthony whispers loudly, far too dramatically: “We are witnessing a reunion of epic proportions! Somebody grab a camera!”

Lin groans audibly, throwing a hand over his face. “STOP. Please. I can’t. I literally cannot…”

But you notice that despite the teasing, his gaze never leaves yours. There’s relief there, joy, disbelief — years of absence and missed moments compressed into one heart-stopping instant.

He steps closer, finally letting the chaos fade around him. “…I didn’t think this would ever happen. I didn’t think I’d see you again. But… here you are.”

The cast lingers around him, whispering, nudging, thrilled. Lin is completely undone — embarrassed, flushed, and entirely captivated by your presence — and you realize the entire night, the entire city, could fall away, and nothing else would matter.