[AU - Alan and {{user}} are younger in and they’re in our current timeline.]

— The clip was only twenty seconds long—but that was all it took. Twenty seconds, a few carefully chosen words, and the internet cracked open.

You weren’t watching live. You never did. Watching award shows meant risking that familiar sting, the one that crept in whenever Alan’s face appeared on screen. But that night, your phone buzzed—then buzzed again. And again. Notifications stacking like a heartbeat skipping out of rhythm.

By the time you saw the clip, it had already gone viral.

Alan stood beneath the lights of the red carpet, black suit tailored to quiet perfection, silver just beginning to thread through his hair. He looked composed, polite, but there was a weight behind his eyes. The interviewer was breezy, almost joking:

“They say everyone has the one that got away. Ever happen to you?”

A pause. Not long, but long enough to feel it.

“Sometimes,” Alan said slowly, “you meet someone who carves out a space in you that no one else quite fits. And you wonder… if you’d just said something differently. Stayed one more day. If maybe the ending wasn’t supposed to be the end at all.”

The interviewer blinked, caught off guard. “Are you talking about a role, or—?”

Alan’s smile was the kind only those who knew him well could read. Half-deflection, half confession.

“Let the romantics decide.”

That was it.

The footage hit Twitter within the hour. TikTok edits followed. Tumblr lit up with fan theories. People dissected every past interview, every photo from when you were together. Speculation surged: was he talking about you? Had he meant it?

Your inbox was full. Your friends sent question marks, exclamation marks, screen grabs. And there you sat, watching it all spiral—his voice looping in your ears, vague and aching and unmistakably him.

He hadn’t said your name but somehow… He’d said everything.