When i stepped out of the dressing van that afternoon, half-drenched in hairspray and wrapped in a silk robe that barely held itself together, I didn't expect to see him standing right there in the middle of the set, hands in his coat pockets, hair too perfect for this kind of chaos.
Sebastian.
I froze mid-step.
He hadn't texted.
Hadn't hinted.
Just… appeared.
And suddenly the air shifted.
"Is that… Sebastian Blair?"
"No way. Is that her boyfriend?"
"He's taller in person."
"He's so hot. Is he looking over here?"
The whispers were like gnats.
Buzzing. Irritating. Constant.
I walked toward him slowly, trying to hold it together, like i hadn't just gone from zero to sweating in one heartbeat. "What are you doing here?"
He smiled, casually. "You said you were shooting late. I thought i'd bring you dinner."
He held up a paper bag, branded from some fancy fusion place near Hannam.
My favorite.
He remembered. Of course, he remembered.
But before i could even reach him, Mika, the new girl from our agency who played my younger sister in this drama, skipped over and touched his arm like they'd known each other for years.
"Hi, oppa!" she beamed. "You're really handsome in real life, huh! I watched your concert last week. Your dancing? Wow. It should be illegal!"
He chuckled politely, clearly trying to ease away from her touch, but then came Bea, another co-actress, looping her arm around his like it was her birthright.
"I didn't know you were dating our Margaux. She's been hiding you!"
My jaw tightened. "He's not a secret," I said, stepping between them, voice tight.
"Are you sure?" Bea teased. "You're glowing. Must be good in lo—"
"Bea," I cut her off, "you have a scene. You're late."
She blinked. "Oh, right."
She let go, reluctantly, throwing one last flirty glance before walking off.
Mika giggled and followed.
And just like that, they were gone, leaving behind a thick cloud of perfume, artificial sweetness, and my boiling irritation.
Sebastian looked at me. "Jealous?"
I looked away. "You liked it."
He laughed. "I liked seeing you get territorial."
"I wasn't," I muttered, turning my back on him and walking toward the van. "I just don't like when people disrespect my boundaries."
"Your boundaries?" he teased, following me.
"Don't test me, Sebastian."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"And if i am?"
I stopped walking and turned to him. "Then don't be surprised if i make you sleep on your side of the universe tonight."
He laughed again.
But this time softer.
Warmer.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You do know you don't have to be jealous, right?"
"I'm not jealous."
He tilted his head. "Okay."
"I'm not."
"Sure."
I crossed my arms. "Are you mocking me?"
"No," he grinned. "Just falling harder."
And just like that, like always, I folded.
-
That night, both our families were having dinner together.
It was a quiet agreement between our parents.
No fuss. No media. Just five-star food, impeccable waitstaff, and all the pressure in the world shoved into a single dining room.
His father Raphael was already seated, exchanging formalities with my mom about overseas partnerships.
Claudia arrived last, elegant as always.
My dad was smiling more than i'd seen in years. It was unnerving.
Sebastian sat next to me.
He was calm. Too calm.
I kept replaying that scene from earlier in my head, the way Bea had gripped his arm like he was a damn prize.
The way Mika had giggled like she was twelve.
The way he laughed.
Even if it was harmless.
Even if he was mine.
"You're awfully quiet tonight," Claudia said suddenly, her gaze landing on me from across the table.
I blinked. "Just tired."
Sebastian looked at me.
He knew. He always did.
After dessert, a delicate mille-feuille that i barely touched, someone suggested we walk around the garden.
It was my mother's favorite space, filled with peonies and fairy lights that came alive after sunset.
We all wandered out.
The parents took their time, talking in twos, probably plotting empires or exchanging investment gossip.
And then Sebastian took my hand.
"Come with me," he whispered.
I followed, heels crunching against gravel, until we were out of sight.
Tucked under a tall arch of wisteria. Soft lights blinked above us like stars.
"Sebastian," I said, exhaling, "I'm sorry for earlier."
"I know."
"I just—sometimes i react before i think."
"I like that about you."
"I'm scared," I admitted. "Of how much i want this to work. Of how much i feel for you."
He nodded. "Me too."
And then, before i could say another word, he stepped back.
My heart dropped.
"Don't freak out," he said calmly, eyes never leaving mine.
"Sebastian," I whispered, already knowing what was coming.
He pulled something out of his coat pocket.
Small. Velvet. Midnight blue.
My breath caught. "No."
"Yes."
"No, you're not, here?"
"Here," he said, kneeling down, one knee on the stone path, hands steady.
My whole body froze.
"Margaux Serene Imperial," he began, voice low and real and full of everything i'd tried not to hope for, "I've loved you before i even knew you. Before we spoke. Before that elevator. Before you ran away from everything and i will love you even if you run again."
Tears prickled behind my eyes.
"I don't care about timelines. I don't care about rules. I just know this: I want to wake up next to you. I want your drama. Your moods. Your impossible standards. I want you."
He opened the box.
A ring. Simple. Elegant. Platinum. No diamonds.
Just us.
"Will you marry me?"
I swallowed. Hard.
Somewhere in the garden, our parents were still talking.
Unaware.
Unbothered.
The world had narrowed down to just this, a boy kneeling, a girl trying not to cry, and a love that felt too real to be anything but fate.
I sank to my knees with him. Pulled his face to mine.
"Yes," I whispered, breathlessly. "Yes. Yes."
He kissed me like he had been waiting for years.
And maybe, in some way, we both had been.