Inside the van, Raiquèn hummed playfully, swinging her legs as they drove through Milan's streets toward La Scala Theater.
"You understand what I'm saying, Rai?" Hachiro asked again, his eyes never leaving the road.
"I do~ I do~ don't worry too much," Rai sang, twirling her lollipop before chomping on it.
When they arrived, Rai was surprised. Not a single reporter crowded the entrance.
Hmm… was this kept a secret? she wondered, tugging her cap lower over her face and adjusting her windbreaker jacket.
They headed straight inside, moving through quiet corridors until they reached the backstage area.
"Mr. Lan?" a staff member called out. Both Rai and Hachiro halted.
"Rai, go on ahead. I'll be there soon," Hachiro said.
Rai nodded and walked forward. But before she reached the dressing rooms, her steps slowed as her golden eyes widened.
Gahhh! La Scala is even more beautiful than I imagined!
Her awe was interrupted by a timid voice. "U-uhm…"
Rai turned. A teenage girl about her age stood nearby. Blonde hair, striking blue eyes—yet her features leaned subtly Asian.
Woah… she looks kind of like Hachi.
"A-are you… Raiquèn? The famous actress?" the girl asked nervously.
"Oh, mhm. That's me," Raiquèn replied, removing her cap and smiling warmly.
The girl's eyes sparkled. "Oh my! I'm such a big fan!" she squealed.
"My name is Himeko Lan! Hachi-niisan told me all about you!" She reached out excitedly for a handshake.
Rai blinked in surprise but accepted it.
Hachi-niisan? He has a younger sister!? He never told me!
"I-I see!" Rai laughed lightly, trying to mask her confusion.
"Say, Rai-san—can we please be frieeends?" Himeko clasped her hand tighter, her blue eyes shining.
"Of course! I would love to," Rai replied with her usual warmth.
"Hahaha! Oh gosh, I'm so happy!" Himeko squealed again, pressing both hands to her cheeks in delight.
She's so cute… Rai thought, amused.
As they started walking side by side, Himeko added brightly, "Oh, I'm from Kenson Agency."
"Really? I'm with Roskow," Rai said.
"I know! I've watched all your films, series, and interviews! At first, I just wanted to know what kind of person my brother was working with. But now—wahh, you're even more beautiful and kind in person!" Himeko rambled, words tumbling out in excitement.
Rai felt her cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment.
"Hahaha, thank you! You're very beautiful too, Himeko. Honestly, I thought if Hachi had a sister, she'd be super serious—just like him."
"Buwahaha! I know, right!? Brother is always looking serious~" Himeko giggled, mimicking Hachiro's stern expression.
Raiquèn laughed so hard she nearly dropped her lollipop.
They finally reached the backstage. Several rows of chairs were already set up, and a handful of actors and actresses were seated, quietly murmuring among themselves. Staff members bustled around, shuffling papers and adjusting props.
As Rai and Himeko walked in, all eyes seemed to shift toward them.
Why do I feel so pressured already? Rai thought, pulling a silly face as if to shake it off.
They slid into two empty seats side by side. Rai let her golden eyes wander over the room—faces she didn't recognize, people from agencies she hadn't met before.
I wonder which actor Mediaset will be sending… she mused.
"Do you know anyone here?" Rai whispered to Himeko.
"Very few…" Himeko admitted, then lowered her voice further. "But I think we'll be introducing ourselves later, so let's just wait."
"I seeee~" Rai hummed, leaning back playfully in her chair.
Minutes later, a door opened. Out stepped a woman in her late forties, her presence were graceful and full of command. Trailing just behind her was a younger woman, perhaps in her twenties, carrying a thick folder.
The room quieted almost instantly.
"Oh gosh…" Himeko mumbled, her posture straightening.
"What? Why?" Rai asked in a whisper.
"That's the director of the play…" Himeko's voice was hushed, almost reverent.
"Huh? Which one—" Rai didn't get to finish before the older woman clapped her hands once, sharp and loud.
"Attention," the woman's voice was firm, clear, and practiced from years of commanding stages.
"As you all know, you have been invited to participate in this special production. I am Madam Aurelia Venice Claus."
A ripple went through the group. Even Rai could sense the weight of her reputation.
Madam Aurelia continued, her dark eyes scanning the room.
"For those who are unfamiliar, I have directed over fifty grand stage productions across Europe. My work has been honored with the Golden Laurel Crown—an award granted only to directors who revolutionize the theater arts."
Golden Laurel Crown…? Woah, even the name sounds prestigious, Rai thought, her lips parting slightly in awe.
Madam Aurelia gestured to the young woman beside her.
"And this here is the scriptwriter of the play you will be performing."
The young woman fumbled with her folder, cheeks turning pink as she bowed slightly.
"H-hello, I'm Vanessa… Vanessa Jean Tianna."
Vanessa Jean Tianna? I've heard that name before, Rai thought, blinking curiously.
Despite her shy demeanor, Vanessa's credentials spoke louder than her timid tone. She was a celebrated prodigy, winning her first literary award at just fifteen and later receiving the Silver Quill Prize for her groundbreaking modern tragedy scripts. Though clumsy and awkward in her presence, her writing was said to be sharp, poignant, and unforgettable.
Vanessa pushed her glasses nervously, clutching the folder tighter.
"I-I hope you'll all do your best to bring this story to life."
"Today, we'll be handing you the script. Make sure to read it carefully. Tomorrow, at the same time, Vanessa will be assigning roles to each of you," Madam Aurelia continued, her tone firm yet elegant.
Her sharp eyes swept across the room, but they halted on two empty seats. Narrowing, her gaze flicked toward a nearby staff. The man immediately scrambled to her side, whispering hurriedly into her ear. Madam sighed softly, disappointment tightening her expression.
Hm… what's going on? Rai thought, tilting her head slightly, curious.
"Since you will all be working together for at least a month, I suggest you take the time to know one another properly," Madam added.
She clasped her hands together as though ready to proceed.
"Alright, let us begin with—"
The sudden click, click of heels against the backstage floor cut through her words.
The room hushed. Madam's eyes shifted beyond the seated actors and actresses, her expression cooling.
"I would greatly appreciate it," she said, her voice sharp as a blade cloaked in velvet, "if the talents of Mediaset TXP learned the importance of punctuality."
Mediaset? Rai's golden eyes flickered with surprise. She twisted in her seat—and nearly lost her breath.
Two figures entered. One she didn't recognize. But the other… the other she knew too well.
The teenage girl wore an off-shoulder, long-sleeved white lace mermaid gown. Its bell sleeves fluttered like whispers of clouds, while the fitted bodice cinched gracefully at the waist. The lace was so intricate it seemed woven by patient gods.
Her hair—pastel blue, soft and silken—was swept into a loose romantic braid. It draped down one side of her shoulder, bohemian yet impossibly regal, as though careless elegance itself had chosen her as its muse.
Her face… delicate, almost fragile, as if sculpted from the finest porcelain. Every feature seemed composed with maddening precision: a soft jawline tapering into a slender chin, lips tinted with a natural rose hue that curved in the faintest, most devastatingly graceful smile, and a nose small yet elegant, like a brushstroke of perfection. Her skin was luminous, pale as moonlight, carrying a glow that seemed untouched by time or imperfection.
And then—her eyes. Heterochromatic, one a deep amethyst that glimmered like twilight skies, the other a molten silver that caught and reflected every flicker of light.
Together they were a contradiction and a harmony, a pair of gemstones cut from myth and starlight, impossible to look away from. They held a quiet power, as though they could see through the thin veil of the world and into the soul itself.
She was not merely beautiful; she was ethereal, a living vision the world had no right to possess, the kind of face one might expect only in dreams or forgotten legends.
The Genius Young Actress,Yeira Inès Lefevre Monteval.
Raiquèn didn't realize how long she had been staring. Her lungs ached as though she had been holding her breath the entire time. She snapped her gaze back to the front, cheeks hot, heart hammering like a runaway drum.
Beside her, Himeko barely contained herself.
"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" she squealed in a whisper.
"Is that her!? I didn't know the Genius Young Actress would actually be in this play!"
But Rai couldn't hear her. She could only feel her own pulse roaring in her ears.
OH MY GOD! she screamed in her head.
Hachiro said Mediaset wouldn't send Yeira here! Why is she here?!
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. I look so casual today. If I knew—if I knew—I would've worn something to impress her!
Her face grew hotter, fluster rising in her chest.
Then Yeira spoke.
Her voice was soft, yet it carried like a silk thread weaving through every corner of the backstage. It was neither loud nor forceful, but magnetic—gentle in tone, yet laced with quiet authority, the kind that made silence bloom wherever it touched.
To Rai, it was like hearing a lullaby sung in the language of starlight, tender and ephemeral. A single note of it lingered in her chest, as if her soul had been tuned to it years ago and had been waiting—aching—for this moment.
"Our apologies, Signora Aurelia," Yeira said, bowing her head slightly, her voice brushing against Rai's ears like the warmth of spring wind.
"It won't happen again."
Rai's heart clenched painfully at the sound, her eyes wide, her world tilting.
"Very well. Please take a seat," Madam Aurelia replied curtly, though her irritation seemed softened by Yeira's presence.
The lesson continued, words flowing from Madam's lips, but Raiquèn didn't hear a single one.
Because the two empty seats were now filled.
And one of them—Yeira's—was directly behind her.
Her back felt as though it were on fire. She sat straighter, lips pursed, trying desperately to focus on Madam's words.
But it was useless.
Oh god. To be this close… to the actress I've adored since I was a child.
Her fingers curled into her skirt, her golden eyes fixed forward, but her mind was nowhere near the stage.