For days, the slip of paper burned in Jet's pocket like a secret he wasn't ready to share. Every time he glanced at his phone, the idea of calling or texting Yau Han lingered in the back of his mind.
But doubt always followed. 'What if it had just been a polite gesture? What if it wasn't even really his number?'
His thoughts were a tangle of curiosity and hesitation as he went about his routine. At work, he found himself zoning out, replaying the encounter at the hill. In the quiet moments of his day, he'd wonder if he was reading too much into everything—the name, the familiarity, the strange sense of connection.
Finally, on a quiet evening, Jet found himself sitting at the coffee table, staring at Melon and Peach as they nibbled on their food.
"I didn't listen to you, Melon," Jet muttered, poking at the hamster food container. "I went to the hill anyway... and I met someone. His name is Yau Han. He's a famous actor, apparently."
Melon tilted its tiny head briefly before resuming its meal. Peach didn't even flinch.
Jet sighed, leaning against the table. "You're no help, you know that?" he murmured, his fingers drumming against the glass table.
The silence stretched, and the weight of keeping it all to himself grew unbearable. Finally, Jet grabbed his phone and dialed the one person who would listen without judgment.
"Mum will understand," he whispered to himself as the line began to ring.
The next day when the couch striked noon the doorbell rang, and Jet opened it to find his mother smiling warmly, a recycle bag in her hand. Without a word, she pulled him into a hug.
—
Von Lev, a 51-year-old female Beta, is a resilient and nurturing single mother. She has two adopted children, including Jet, whom she welcomed into her life as a toddler.
Despite the challenges of single parenthood, Von has dedicated herself to providing a loving and stable home. Her Beta nature lends her a calm, empathetic presence, making her a steady anchor for her family.
—
"Hey, Mum," Jet said, his voice muffled against her shoulder when he leaned down.
"I figured you'd call eventually," she teased, stepping inside.
Jet rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly stepping aside as she placed the groceries on the counter. "Yeah... you're not wrong."
"There's something else you want to talk about, isn't it?" she said, unpacking containers of food. The aroma of her cooking filled the air, already making Jet feel more grounded. "I know that look."
Jet hesitated, watching as she set the table. "What did you make this morning?"
"Just rice and steamed vegetables," she replied. "And don't you dare try to change the topic. Now, speak."
"Remember that recurring dream I used to have?" he began softly.
Her hands paused mid-movement, and she looked up. "The one about the hill?"
"Yeah." Jet nodded. "I kept thinking it was just a dream or something I made up for my novel, but... I found the place, Mum. It's real."
Her expression shifted to curiosity, and she gestured for him to sit down.
"I went there a few days ago, after my interview." Jet sat across from her, his voice quieter now. "I met someone."
She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Who?"
"An Alpha. His name is Yau Han," Jet said, the words tumbling out quickly.
Her brow furrowed, and she leaned back slightly. "Yau Han? As in the Yau Han? The actor?"
"Yeah," Jet confirmed with a sheepish smile. "I didn't even realize it at first. He was just... normal, you know? But then I looked him up."
Jet hesitated, glancing down at the table. "And... he gave me his number."
His mother's eyebrows shot up. "His number?"
"Yeah." Jet scratched the back of his head. "I've been debating whether or not to contact him. I mean, why would someone like him give his number to someone like me?"
His mother's gaze softened, and she reached across the table to place a hand on his. "Jet, you're not just 'someone' now. People don't do things like that without a reason and with a person as huge as him?" She reassured him. "Trust your instincts. If you feel like you should reach out, do it. If not, it's okay to wait."
Jet nodded slowly, her words settling over him like a blanket of reassurance. "I'll think about it."
"That's all I ask," she said with a smile, nudging a bowl of rice toward him. "Now, let's eat. And then you're telling me all about your interview."
"Alright," Jet chuckled.
—
"I made extra food for tonight's dinner and tomorrow's lunch," Von said as she stepped toward the door. "Don't forget to feed your hamsters and clean their cage soon. And remember your fencing competitions and lessons this week!"
Jet shook his head with a laugh. "I know, Mum, I'll be fine! Just go already—Minah's probably waiting for you!"
Von smiled warmly, lingering for a moment. "You and your sister have grown up so much, I barely see you in the same house anymore."
Jet waved her off as she stepped outside. "Bye, Mum."
"Bye, my boy," she called, waving before the door clicked shut behind her.
Jet let out a deep exhale, letting the quiet settle in. The tension in his chest eased, but the knot of questions still tightened in his mind. Sharing his discovery with someone had brought some relief, but it hadn't answered the most pressing uncertainties.
His gaze dropped to the slip of paper in his hand. It was crinkled from being held too tightly, the faint creases running like lines of hesitation across its surface. It felt heavier than it should, as though it carried a decision far greater than he was ready to make.
'This could lead to something amazing. Or... something I'll regret forever,' he thought, his stomach twisting at the possibility.
His mother's parting words replayed in his mind, soothing him like a steady hand on his shoulder. "Someone as big as Yau Han wouldn't give their number to just anyone."
Jet wanted to believe her, but the memory of his encounter with Han tugged at his thoughts. It hadn't felt like a typical meeting—not with the way Han had said his name, his tone laced with something Jet couldn't quite pin down.
Recognition. That's what it was. The subtle familiarity in Han's voice, the way he'd looked at Jet, like they'd met before. Jet rubbed the back of his neck, trying to make sense of the strange sensation coursing through him.
Déjà vu.
The word lingered in his mind like a quiet whisper, tugging at the edges of his memory. It wasn't just their meeting—it was the hill, the air, the way everything seemed to align perfectly, as though it had all happened before.
Jet set the piece of paper on the kitchen counter, his thumb brushing over its faint lines. He stared at it, willing it to offer the answers he was too afraid to seek. The weight of indecision pressed on him, heavier than anything he'd felt in a long time.
'What am I scared of?' Jet asked himself. 'That dumb dream?' The thought of reaching out felt daunting, as if it might reveal something he wasn't prepared for. Yet doing nothing seemed worse. The unknown would linger, haunting him with endless "what ifs."