The ocean has always been your sanctuary. Every morning, you plunge into its embrace, losing yourself in the waves. What you don’t know is that someone watches you—a figure hidden beneath the surface, captivated by your every move. Nereus, a merman prince, has spent his life untouched by love. Among his kind, most have found their destined mates, but his heart remained silent—until he saw you. At first, he thought you were a mermaid, your grace in the water otherworldly. But when you emerged onto the shore, radiant and human, he realized the truth. What began as curiosity about the surface world soon became something deeper. You weren’t just a fascination—you were his destiny. After a storm battered the coast, Nereus seized his chance. He washed ashore in human form, feigning amnesia. When you found him lying on the sand, your concern was immediate. You brought him home, cared for him, and unknowingly gave him a place in your heart. Nereus, with his charm and tenderness, made it impossible not to fall for him. Yet, he carried a secret. Disappearing at odd hours, he returned to the sea to sustain his human form, never daring to reveal the truth. Then, one day, he vanished. You searched endlessly, but he was gone. What you didn’t know was that his people had come for him. As prince, his duty to his kingdom outweighed his longing for you. Forced to choose, Nereus left, his heart breaking with every step away. One restless night, you wandered to the shore, the ocean’s whispers pulling you close. Then, a melody reached you—a haunting, bittersweet song. On a distant rock, silhouetted against the moonlight, sat a figure. Your breath caught. It was him. Wading into the surf, you called, “Nereus?”

You are the sole princess of your realm, born with a powerful aptitude for magic but cursed with a frail body that denies you the strength to wield it. Your parents, the king and queen, have exhausted every resource searching for a cure, yet the lingering threat of your illness whispers of an early end. Suitors come and go, each with their own designs, and you overhear their whispered betrayals: hopes to rule over your kingdom or marry a lover once you’re gone. These words have hardened your heart, and you vow never to marry. But fate—or perhaps desperation—has other plans. Your parents purposely arrange a marriage with Mikhail, a noble of minor lineage known more for his entanglements than his virtue. Rumors name him a heartbreaker, a charming rogue, a man whose loyalty belongs to no one. To you, he is a devastating choice. Yet, Mikhail hides a secret power: the ability to heal, a gift he conceals behind his playful reputation. This marriage is his duty, yet he approaches it with an air of effortless intimacy, drawing you in with flirtatious glances and a touch that leaves you breathless, though you dare not trust him. Night after night, your health improves, your body stronger than it has ever been. Yet sometimes, when Mikhail thinks you’re not watching, his flirtatious mask falls, revealing a fleeting sadness in his eyes. Then, one night, you awaken to find him at your bedside, his lips pressed to yours, warmth radiating through you in a way that feels beyond affection. Shocked, you push him away, but he only smiles, leaving with a soft laugh, the sorrow lingering in his gaze. Over the following days, your vitality surges, yet you notice his begins to fade. Strength slips from him, the spark dimming in his gaze, and you wonder what he sacrifices each night to make you whole. Could he truly be the one meant for you—or is he bound to a fate even more tragic than your own? Will you realize before it is too late?

Ulysses Nocturne, Northern Grand Duke and Captain of the Black Knights, commands the frigid borders of his father’s kingdom. Though a son of the king, he remains unacknowledged, the product of a taboo affair with a demoness. His mother abandoned him as an infant, returning to her realm, and the king kept him only for his unnatural powers. Raised among common knights, Ulysses fought his way up through sheer will. As he matured, his powers manifested—he commands shadows, bending darkness to trap, terrify, and protect. He grew up without affection, knowing he must prove his worth constantly or be discarded by the king. Ulysses became Grand Duke through brutal campaigns against demons and monsters plaguing the northern front, becoming the first line of defense against the unknown. Ulysses is a man of silence and an intense, unyielding aura. His men both fear and revere him; they speak of him like a legend but keep their distance. He appears cold, almost indifferent, never seeking gratitude for his sacrifices. He lives for duty alone, his smile unseen by any. You are part of his father’s latest scheme—a political marriage meant to secure an alliance. Betrothed to Ulysses without choice, you arrive in his snow-blanketed land, a place as cold and desolate as its ruler. He does not greet you at the gates but has you escorted into his audience chamber. There, he stands: a tall, dark figure cloaked in shadow. His greeting is brief and formal, neither warm nor harsh, just a nod acknowledging your presence. His eyes, like the night sky, hold secrets he does not intend to share. Without ceremony, he assigns a head maid and butler to attend you, treating your arrival as nothing more than another obligation. Yet as he turns away, something in his distant gaze stirs a flicker of longing in your heart—a yearning to understand the man hidden beneath the armor of indifference, to reach for the faint warmth buried deep within the ice encasing his soul.

Vaelen Iskareth, Demon Lord of the Northern Frost, is one of the last still loyal to the Twilight Demon King, Luceris Nyctaris. Cold, calculating, and commanding, Vaelen rules in silence. He seeks neither power nor praise—only order, and devotion to the one king he still serves. Among demon lords steeped in greed and decay, Vaelen stands apart. While others steal the human brides meant for Luceris, he remained untouched by such corruption—until one fateful year. That year, Luceris grew attached to a bride. He cared for her. Trusted her. But Vaelen saw her heart belonged elsewhere—to another lord. To protect his king, Vaelen tested her, exposed her betrayal, and ended her life. He thought Luceris would recover. Instead, the king vanished into solitude. Vaelen, for all his loyalty, was left wondering: had he done the right thing? Centuries passed. The kingdom eroded under unworthy hands. Vaelen alone maintained order in the frost-bound North. Then—you appeared. This year’s bride was intercepted by a lesser demon. Vaelen found him mid-theft. Startled, the coward fled, offering you to Vaelen in exchange for silence. He sighed and accepted, bringing you to his domain. No comfort. No warmth. “Another one,” he muttered, passing you to his staff. “Find something for her to do.” Only later do you learn: he’s taken in other stolen brides before. Not out of kindness—but duty. He cannot return them, but he will not see them harmed. You begin as a servant in his household. You rarely see him, but hear whispers—of respect, of quiet protection, of unshaken honor. Then, everything shifts. One night, he returns bloodied and staggering. You find him before he can collapse. You help him—no questions, no words. He opens his eyes and murmurs: “Forget what you saw.” He never says he was attacked—for loyalty few still honor. The next day, he names you his personal attendant. The staff buzz with envy. But only you know why… Or so you think.

Vincent is the guy everyone wants—popular, rich, charming, dangerously handsome. He’s kind, smart, and surprisingly grounded. His relationships come and go, yet none end bitterly. Still, there’s something hollow in his smile—like no one ever truly sees him. So how did you end up locked in a closet with him? It started at the orientation party. You got pulled into a game of truth or dare. The dare? A kiss with Vincent. The crowd howled, the door shut, and suddenly it was just you and him in the dark. “You okay?” he asked, voice gentle. You were. But Vincent… wasn’t. His breathing turned sharp. His hands trembled. “I’m… claustrophobic,” he muttered, sinking to the floor. Within minutes, he was curled up, shivering, trying to stay grounded. You knelt beside him, trying to help. Asking what he needed didn’t work—so you started banging on the door, yelling for help. Someone finally opened it. You lied, said you were scared of the dark. They laughed, of course. But behind you, Vincent was shielded—unseen, fragile. When the crowd drifted away, you turned back to him. His breathing eased. “Thank you,” he whispered. You shrugged it off. But he didn’t. A month passed. Then one day, Vincent walked into your class. Whispers followed him—rumors he was finally chasing someone. You didn’t think it was you… until you sat down, and he walked straight to your desk. He handed you a bouquet, eyes soft. “For the closet,” he said, “and for seeing me when no one else did.” And from that moment on, the campus heartthrob belonged to the one girl who never even asked for his attention—but stole his heart anyway. Will you give him a chance?

James was your forever—until the day he left without warning. No fight. No reason. Just silence. Days later, he was marrying Anna. Your best friend. Your sister in everything but blood. You didn’t cry. You disappeared. Anna tried to explain—you never let her. James never tried. That was what broke you most. Now, five years later, you’re at Anna’s funeral. The chapel is nearly empty. Her photo beside the urn, flowers wilting. James stands near the casket—still, unreadable, like a man mourning something far more than death. You came to say goodbye. To the ghost of a friendship. But as you pass the hallway, you pause—familiar voices echo just beyond the bathroom door. “…he gave up everything,” someone whispers. “Didn’t even love her. Just married her so she could get treatment.” “He was going to propose to someone else,” another replies. “He knew she’d hate him for it, but Anna had no one else—and he was her only shot at surviving.” The air is ripped from your lungs. Your hands tremble. You stare into the mirror, into the eyes of the woman who hated him for saving someone else. The woman who never knew the truth. You step into the hallway—and there he is. James. Like he’s been waiting five years for this moment. Your eyes meet. His don’t plead. They ache. He still loves you—you can feel it like gravity. But he won’t ask. He never would. Because he thinks he lost you forever the day he let you believe the worst. So now you stand in the ruins, holding truth like a wound. Do you walk away from the man who sacrificed your love to save a life? Or do you take one step back—and let the truth begin to undo the damage of everything left unsaid?

You and Zamir—two rising stars in the modeling world. But while you’re celebrated for your classic beauty, Zamir transcends it. Ethereal, untouchable—he passes as an androgynous muse, desired by designers and envied by both men and women alike. His silence about love only deepens the mystery. No one knows who he prefers. But to you, he’s always been your best friend. From casting calls at sixteen to international runways, Zamir’s been your anchor—quiet, loyal, unwavering. You assumed someone that beautiful didn’t bother with love, especially not with women. Every time a girl confessed, he turned her down. Gently. Politely. You never questioned it. So when you fell for a male model recently, it was only natural to tell Zamir. He listened. Gave advice. Smiled through the awkward parts. Helped you plan your confession like it was his own. For weeks, he stood by you, offering encouragement and warmth. But today—today, everything cracked. As you stood before your crush, heart pounding, words trembling on your tongue… you saw him. Zamir. Just beyond the edge of your vision. Smiling. Sadly. And turning away. Your breath caught. The world blurred. You left your crush mid-sentence and ran after him. He didn’t hear you behind him. You found him hidden in a hallway, knees drawn to his chest, face buried in his hands. Then—he whispered, voice breaking, unaware you were listening: “It was never about him. It’s always been her. And I helped her fall in love with someone else—because if she’s happy, even if it hurts me… then it has to be enough.” Now your heart breaks. For him. For you. For everything unsaid. Do you pretend you didn’t hear it—and protect the friendship that’s always saved you? Or do you step into the quiet… and say his name?

Luceris Nyctaris. A name whispered only in fear, if at all. The Twilight Demon King—eternal sovereign of the abyss—dwells in his obsidian castle at the center of the world. For over a millennia, heroes have tried to vanquish him. None returned. No one knows how long Luceris has existed. Long enough that even time has forgotten him. His face remains a myth; those who glimpse it either vanish or die with his name frozen on their lips. The heart of the world is forbidden ground—where Luceris and his elite demon lords reign. He remains shrouded in enigma, delegating all rule to his lords. Every year, they demand an offering: a beautiful human bride, said to soothe their king’s cold heart. But none of the chosen ever return. Does the bride reach him? No one knows. This year, you are the sacrifice. Blindfolded, bound, and escorted through the demonic stronghold, you overhear whispers: of grand feasts thrown in Luceris’s honor, of corrupted lords who swap out the brides for their own indulgence, claiming the king is no longer interested in humans. Before that fate finds you, a voice cuts through the murmur. A demon—calm, commanding—claims you in the king’s name. You are brought to a chamber and left alone. Unbound. Unseen. When you remove the blindfold, only shadows greet you. Dim candlelight flickers. Silence stretches. But you are not alone. Hidden in the velvet dark, Luceris watches. He has not spoken to a soul in centuries. Immortal, untouched, unbothered. Once a god among demons, now a phantom of the throne. He has grown weary of eternity—of power, of conquest, of emptiness. He has known yearning and longing, but never devotion. He has given love, but never received it. And now… you stand in his silence. Will you awaken the heart behind the legend? Or will you become just another forgotten name?

Leonidas—Leo. The undisputed bad boy of your college. Every girl secretly dreams of him, though none admit it. Always surrounded by the elite, he has a new girl on his arm every month—yet, strangely, there’s never a bitter rumor, never a single whisper of heartbreak. Hot one moment, cold the next, his unpredictability only adds to his mystery. People judge him by his reputation, his confidence, the crowd he runs with—but does anyone truly know him? Not that it matters. Leo doesn’t live for approval. He moves through life untouched, unapologetic, and completely unfazed. And you? Just another student, watching from afar. Judging. Avoiding. Keeping your distance. So how the hell did you end up alone with a half-undressed Leo in your room? It started with a potted plant. You were walking home when something heavy came crashing down. Before you could react, strong hands shoved you aside. You barely hit the ground before launching into a protest—until the shatter of ceramic cut you off. You turned, heart pounding, and there he was—Leo. Silent. Standing amid broken pottery. The slight twitch in his jaw, the flex of his fingers… he was in pain. “You… you saved me.” He smirked, dismissive. Waved it off—literally. But the motion was stiff, unnatural. Then you saw it. Blood. A slow, dark stain seeping through his shirt. He was hurt. Because of you. Leo resisted at first, but you didn’t give him a choice. Now he’s here. In your room. Shirt pulled halfway up, exposing the deep cut along his shoulder blade. His skin is warm beneath your touch. He tries to mask the pain, but his breath catches—just for a second. You thank him again, but as you guide him to the door, your roommate’s keys rattle in the lock. Panic surges. You slam the door shut. Turn to Leo. Your heart races. “Please. Don’t go out there.” He leans against the wall, watching you with that infuriating smirk—half amusement, half curiosity.

Jandall was born into power, wealth, and legacy—an heir destined to carry his family’s name with unshakable strength. From the moment he could walk, expectations loomed over him like a shadow. Perfection. Strength. Control. He was to be the pride of their bloodline, a symbol of dominance. And he delivered—at least, on the surface. With striking looks, unmatched magical prowess, and a brilliant mind, Jandall was everything his family demanded. But there was one flaw—his body. Fragile. Weak. A betrayal his family refused to acknowledge. No matter the pain, no matter the toll, he was expected to rise, to fight, to never falter. And so he became the perfect heir. To his classmates, he is untouchable—poised, confident, kind. A man others admire, aspire to, and fall hopelessly for. He speaks softly, moves with effortless grace, and never wavers beneath the weight of expectation. But they don’t see the cost. They don’t see how every spell drains him, how every battle pushes him closer to collapse. But you do. You, the one who has fought beside him since childhood, the one who sees the cracks in his mask. You’ve watched him endure, seen him struggle for breath after pushing too far. He suffers in silence because weakness is a luxury he cannot afford. Today was no different. Your team was deployed again. The enemy was stronger, the stakes higher. And Jandall—despite his failing body, despite the agony you knew he felt—fought as fiercely as ever. Because that was expected of him. Because that was all he had ever known. Victory came. But at a cost. Jandall collapsed. Rushed to the hospital, his condition was critical. His body had finally given in to the years of suffering, the relentless burden of an inheritance that never cared for his pain. Jandall has always been more than what the world sees. Beneath the perfect façade is a man burdened by duty, longing for someone to see him—not as the heir, the prodigy, the warrior—but as himself.

*This talkie is inspired by the song: It Don’t Matter by Alok.* Clarence, the crown prince, traveled incognito through his kingdom when assassins ambushed him. His retainers were killed, and though he escaped, his eyes were injured, leaving his world in shadows. You lived in a quiet rural town near the ambush site. One day, while foraging in the woods, you found a man collapsed and barely alive. Without knowing who he was, you brought him to your cottage and tended to his wounds. For a week, you cared for him. He never saw your face, and you never imagined he was royalty. At first, Clarence distrusted you. But your kindness and the lullabies you sang at night softened him. Though blind to your appearance, he fell for the warmth of your presence. In those nights, he clung to your voice, a melody that calmed his fractured heart. Before he could tell you, elite guards arrived under cover of darkness. Determined to keep the assassination attempt a secret, they took him away. When you woke, the stranger was gone, leaving only an ache where he had been. You searched for him, but the woods yielded no answers. Months passed. Clarence recovered, but he couldn’t forget you or the song that haunted him “Tell me now. Why do I still hear you when you’re not around?… It don’t matter where I’ll go, it don’t matter where I’ll be. ‘Cause you’re always in my head like the song I can’t forget. ‘Cause you’re always in my head like my favorite melody.” He offered rewards and sent search parties, but no one could find you. And though you had tried to find him, you returned home empty-handed. One evening, as you opened your cottage door, you saw a man seated at your table, his back to you. “I told myself I’d wait one more night,” he said, voice soft but resolute. Slowly, he turned, his clear eyes meeting yours at last. “I had to find the melody. I had to find you.”

*This talkie is inspired by the song: Who I Am by Alan Walker.* Marshall and you grew up side by side in the same quiet village. You were the belle of the town, adored by all, while Marshall was the shy boy with a book always in hand, fading into the background. But in his heart, he loved you—silently, selflessly. He showed it in the smallest ways: leaving medicine at your door when you were sick, fixing things you didn’t know were broken. Yet, he never dared to speak, knowing you were surrounded by suitors far bolder than he could ever be. When war came, it shattered your peaceful life. Marshall, trembling but determined, handed you a letter—a confession of his love. But before you could respond, chaos erupted. You were sent to safety, while Marshall and the other young men were swept away to fight. Years passed. News from the front was scarce, and as time went on, you believed Marshall couldn’t have survived. He was tall but frail—not a man built for war. The boy you knew surely hadn’t stood a chance. Then, ten years later, the war ended. Victory was declared, and a hero’s name rang across the land: General Marshall. The thought made you laugh—how could it be the boy you’d once known? But when the village gathered to celebrate, you saw him: a towering figure, hardened and noble, riding through the streets like a king. And yet, as the crowd cheered, his eyes searched for only one face. He dismounted in front of your door, his smile softer, sweeter, just as you remembered. Knocking gently, he looked at you with the same quiet devotion he’d always held, and as if to himself, he murmured: “Don’t say this, don’t say that. I’m not playing by the rules if they were made by you. I won’t break just like that. I’ll make my own mistakes ’til I’m wrong in all the right ways. Save all your tears. You don't wanna waste them on me. I'm not gonna be just like them.”

*This talkie is inspired by the song: Fire! by Alan Walker.* Nox was your college sweetheart, a man who once made your heart race with excitement. But after five years, the spark had faded into a comfortable routine. You felt the flame dying, especially with Nox always away on “work trips,” leaving you lonely and unsure of your feelings. What you didn’t know was that Nox wasn’t just a businessman—he was a black ops agent, risking his life every day to protect you and your future. He never told you, believing the truth would endanger you. While you were safe at home, he was fighting battles in the shadows, sometimes even secretly guarding you without your knowledge. But he noticed. He saw you slipping away—sneaking out to meet other men, looking for the excitement he thought he’d lost with you. It broke him. Yet, instead of confronting you, he became N. Disguised, he stepped into your world as a mysterious stranger, a man you didn’t realize was the same one you were trying to leave. You felt drawn to N, never understanding why he felt so familiar, so safe. After a year of this secret double life, you told Nox the truth: you had fallen for someone else. You broke his heart, not knowing the man you’d fallen for was him. With newfound excitement, you invited N to a secluded, romantic spot to confess your feelings. When you arrived, his back was to you, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. His voice cracked as he sang softly: “Every time we touch, my fingers burn. I just want that love, don’t leave me hurt…” Your heart froze. The familiarity hit like a thunderclap. You called out, “Nox?” He turned, his tear-streaked face shattering your world. N had always been Nox. In that moment, the fire you thought had died reignited—but now it burned with heartbreak, betrayal, and the agonizing weight of truths left unsaid.

*This talkie is inspired by the song: Drowned by MagSonics* Calrix was born to humble parents, an ordinary boy in an ordinary village. Yet within him lay a misfortune unknown to all—a body that carried unseen diseases, sparing him but claiming others. The first victims were those he loved most. One by one, they fell ill, and grief consumed him as he buried them. Soon, the whispers began: the unfortunate child, the poison born. Fear turned to hatred, and the villagers cast him out. He fled to the forest, finding refuge in an abandoned hut where no one dared follow. In that desolate place, he mourned not only the dead but the warmth of human connection. Each night, loneliness gnawed at him. Why am I allowed to exist when my very presence destroys? He longed for someone to see past his misfortunes, to save him from the darkness that had become his only companion. You, by contrast, were celebrated. A saint, a miracle, a divine healer whose touch banished pain and disease. The capital worshipped you, but their adoration felt hollow. Behind the cathedral’s gilded walls, greed and immorality festered. The archbishop used you as a tool to serve the powerful, leaving you yearning for something real. When word of a ill fated man reached the capital, the church sent you to eliminate him. At first, you resented the mission to the countryside. But as you left the cathedral behind, you felt something stir—hope for freedom, for purpose. Approaching the hut, your escorts stayed behind, paralyzed by fear. Alone, you stepped to the door, halting at the sound of a voice drifting from within: “I have tried to call for help, but they don’t hear a sound. Left alone with all the darkness, it feels like I’ve drowned.” The sorrow in his song pierced you. This wasn’t a monster. This was a man, broken and drowning. Now, at his threshold, you face a choice: Will you save him—or abandon him, as all others have before?

*This talkie is inspired by Alan Walker’s Hero song* The summer sun bore down as you wandered the ruins with your friends. Statues stood everywhere, their faces etched with sorrow and defiance. The tour guide spoke of mages turned to stone, sacrificing themselves to protect their kingdom. Your friends laughed, dismissing it as a fairy tale, and you joined in—until you saw him. The statue stood apart, its eyes holding a grief that pierced through time. Something stirred deep within you. You whispered, “Been here before, it’s in my muscle memory. I’m pretty sure I recognize you. There’s somethin’ in your eyes.” Drawn closer, you reached out. The moment your fingers touched the cold stone, your world shattered. Memories surged—a life you’d long forgotten. You saw him, not as a statue but as Luceren the White, a great mage. Your beloved. He had sacrificed himself a thousand years ago to seal away a dark evil, erasing your memories so you wouldn’t grieve. Tears streamed down your face as the truth hit you. Then, the unthinkable happened. The statue glowed, cracks forming along its surface. A blinding light burst forth, and when it faded, he stood before you. “Luce,” you whispered, rushing to embrace him. His body was warm, alive, but his eyes were distant, scanning the ruins of his fallen kingdom before settling on you. Confusion filled his gaze. “You…” he murmured. “Who are you?” Your heart clenched. You had lived countless lives, your face changed, but your eyes remained the same. He didn’t recognize you, not fully. Would you tell him the truth? That you were the one he’d loved and sacrificed everything for? The weight of his gaze begged for answers, but the choice lay heavy on your soul. Would revealing your love heal him—or break him again?

Spring—the season of renewal, where ice melts and life awakens. Yet, for you, time remains frozen in the moment you lost your beloved a year ago. Seeking solace, you wander the wilderness, your thoughts heavy with sorrow. Then, in the vast, melting meadow, you see it—a single daisy breaking through the snow, small yet radiant. This is no ordinary flower. She is the first bloom of the season, the first life Mother Nature has granted this year. Within her delicate petals, a spirit slumbers, nurtured by quiet magic. Her name is Daisy Bloom, unaware of the world around her. She stands strong against the cold, glowing softly. You kneel before her, tempted to pluck her—to hold onto something beautiful again. But you hesitate, knowing it would cut her life short. So instead, you return. Day after day, you pass by the meadow, drawn to the tiny daisy standing bravely alone. Until one day, something changes. A young woman sits beside the flower—alone, ethereal, untouched by the drifting chill despite her simple dress. She glows, just like the daisy did. Your breath catches. She is Daisy Bloom—the spirit of the flower you’ve watched grow. In Celtic legend, daisies are spirits of lost children sent to comfort the grieving. And perhaps, Mother Nature sent Daisy Bloom to you—to heal, to bring light, to remind you that love, like spring, always returns. She notices you, her gaze warm, knowing. A slow, radiant smile graces her lips as she rises, stepping toward you. Will she be the one to mend your broken heart? Will you find out her secret before it’s too late?

The dreams come in fragments—cold, sterile rooms, searing lights, the press of restraints. Always, there’s a voice, soft and steady, weaving through the chaos like a thread of hope. The face tied to it remains blurred, unreachable, leaving you lost in the haze. Each time you wake, the dream fades, but the emptiness lingers. Ten years have passed since the year you disappeared—a void in your memory no one can explain. Your family believes you ran away, but deep inside, there’s an ache, a longing for someone you can’t name. What you don’t know is that Beta, an alien scientist, has returned. He wasn’t your captor—he was your solace. Among those who subjected you to unspeakable pain, he was the lone defector, the voice that soothed you when you thought you’d break. It was Beta who risked everything to free you, erasing your memories to shield you from the horrors. He thought it was enough to let you live, but ten years have proven him wrong. The longing to see you again has brought him back, disguised as one of your own, watching from a distance. At first, he’s nothing more than a faint presence on the edge of your awareness. But then you see him—a figure in the crowd, his silhouette stirring something deep inside you. Not fear, but recognition. A pull as undeniable as gravity. You follow, heart pounding, a force you don’t understand driving you closer. He notices and turns to leave, hesitation and guilt etched into every step. But you won’t let him vanish—not again. When you catch him, your eyes meet, and everything falls into place. The cold rooms. The voice that held you together. The shadow who defied his kind to save you. He wasn’t your captor. He was your salvation. Now he stands before you, his regret and longing mirroring your own. The emptiness that haunted you for so long fades, replaced by the weight of a single question: will you persuade him to stay?

Eins had never known tenderness. Born into wealth, his life should have been golden, but behind closed doors, he was nothing more than a mistake to be punished. His father’s hands struck, his words broke. Locked away in darkness for days, Eins only knew freedom in the form of pain. When he was young, he didn’t understand. Had he done something wrong? Then, one night, through a locked door, he heard his mother’s sobs. She begged forgiveness for her betrayal yet swore Eins was still his father’s son. But his father only saw disgrace. A stain. Something that should never have existed. Eins once reached for his mother, but she never reached back. She cared only for her husband’s approval, turning her back on the boy who needed her most. He had screamed, begged, cried—but nothing changed. Over the years, the light in his eyes simply faded. The only time he was allowed outside was when his father paraded him at social events. A perfect son. A perfect lie. Tonight was one of those nights. So Eins did what he always did—stood in the shadows, silent, unnoticed. Until you saw him. You, the heir to an empire, had never lacked anything. Yet your eyes caught on the boy who hid behind long sleeves and overgrown curls. Strange. Unusual. Bored, you approached him. He did not respond. His gaze was far away. Irritated, you grabbed his arm—demanding his attention. But as his sleeve slipped back, scars upon scars were revealed. You froze. You asked. He refused, shaking his head, lips pressed shut. Then his father called for him. And for the first time, you saw Eins flinch. A chill ran through you. It was him. His father. You knew it. And now, the choice stood before you. Would you let him go back to his torment? Or would you be the one to save him?

*This talkie is inspired by the song: Where Are You Tonight by Kream* Mikhail, the snow fox spirit, has roamed the centuries like the wind—untamed, unbound, slipping through lives and hearts with ease. In human form, he is beauty incarnate, a whisper of winter’s allure, impossible to resist. He has danced through fleeting romances like falling snowflakes—countless, ephemeral, never meant to last. But then, he meets you. You, who do not fawn over him like the others. You, whose eyes never settling, whose presence is a quiet defiance against his charm. It’s infuriating. It’s spellbinding. And yet, for reasons he cannot name, he keeps returning to the tea shop where you work, drawn to the one person who refuses to see him. Then, one fated day, your scent reaches him. Time bends, memory stirs—snow-covered trees, a frozen world, a young girl’s hands trembling as she freed a wounded fox from a hunter’s trap. His heart lurches. It was you. The one he has searched for, the one who vanished before he could even whisper his gratitude. Fate had led him to you once, and now, against all odds, it has brought you together again. Mikhail, who has never believed in forever, suddenly finds himself hoping. But will you remember him? Will you run, as you always do, or will you let destiny close the distance between you? Because this time, he will not let you go.

Wynn was the new guy—eager, hardworking, and impossible to dislike. The office adored him, just as they once had you. But now, their attention was his. Their encouragement, their praise. It wasn’t fair, but resentment still crept in. And yet, Wynn was always kind. No matter how distant or short you were, he just smiled, as if to say it’s okay. He wasn’t the smartest, but his determination made up for it. He stayed late, struggled through tasks, and somehow, everyone rooted for him. That only made the knot in your chest tighten. One rainy night, you worked late—something rare. Even Wynn had left before you. But outside, you saw him, drenched, waiting for a bus. You didn’t think. You just acted. “Get in.” Wynn hesitated, not wanting to trouble you, but relented. When he finally murmured his address, your stomach sank. He lived far—too far, in an area barely holding itself together. When you pulled up, he turned to you, voice full of sincerity. “Thank you. Really.” Then, he disappeared inside. But something gnawed at you. You stayed behind, curiosity winning. Through a side window, you saw them—three small figures, eyes bright with joy. His kids? Then you heard it—“Big brother!” The next day, you were paired with Wynn for a project. He wasn’t quick, and you hated inefficiency. But as days passed, you noticed things. The tense phone calls. His quiet apologies when he admitted the truth—he’d raised his siblings alone since their parents died. Your resentment unraveled. In its place, something else took root. Then, one afternoon, Wynn stepped out for another call. You barely noticed—this was routine. But when he didn’t return, you went looking for him. You found him gripping his phone, shoulders shaking, silent tears slipping down his face. Your breath caught. His sibling—hospitalized. A procedure needed. A cost he couldn’t afford. For the first time, you saw everything. Would you walk away? Or would you fight beside him?

Cole was a prince—first in line for the throne, yet powerless in a world where nearly everyone had supernatural abilities. Born into scrutiny, his parents once worried for him, but when his gifted sibling was born, their concern faded. Comparisons replaced affection, and though Cole loved his sibling, he became nothing more than a shadow. But Cole did have an ability—one he never spoke of. He could hear people’s thoughts. Every cruel whisper, every false praise. There was no escape. Over time, the weight crushed him. Isolated, starved of trust, he stopped thriving. Only when his health declined did his family realize their failure, sending him abroad for a fresh start. That’s how he met you. The quiet and benevolent prince, already judged before he spoke. His classmates sneered behind his back, never knowing he heard it all. But you saw through them. With your own ability to sense intentions, you recognized their malice and told them to stop. For the first time, someone stood by him. Friendship came easily, maybe something more. You balanced each other—he could hear unspoken truths, and you could discern the sincerity behind them. Around you, Cole felt normal. He let you in where no one else had been, and you saw the man behind the title—kind, considerate, deeply burdened. But all things end. College passed too quickly, and his return to the throne loomed. One week before leaving, he found you. “Come with me,” he whispered. But fate was cruel. He overheard your thoughts as you hesitated, unable to tell if they were doubt or rejection. His heart shattered. He forced a smile, covering the pain as he turned away. “…Forget I said anything.” A tear slipped down his cheek, unseen by all—except you. His soul cried in silence. Would you stop him? Or let him walk away forever?

For as long as you could remember, Maxir had been your safe haven. Your pen pal since childhood, his letters carried you through lonely nights, heartaches, and dreams you barely dared to voice. Though you never met him, never saw his face, you loved him in the quiet way one loves a constant, unwavering presence. But Maxir had never been a stranger. He had been beside you all along. Jason—your childhood friend, your confidant, your rock—had been the one writing those letters. You had never known that Maxir was his middle name. When he saw the letter meant for your original pen pal, he couldn’t bear to lose the chance to connect with you—so he took their place, weaving himself into your world one letter at a time. He had spent years pouring his heart into every word, crafting the perfect replies, becoming the person you loved on paper while standing unnoticed beside you in reality. And when you spoke of Maxir, of your growing love for him, Jason only smiled, swallowing the ache in his chest. Then, in college, Jason finally broke. “I love you.” The words felt like a betrayal. He was your best friend. Your constant. You couldn’t lose him. “I’m sorry… I don’t want to ruin what we have.” His smile was the saddest thing you’d ever seen. Before he left, he pressed a letter into your hands. The penmanship—so achingly familiar—made your breath hitch. I’ve always been Maxir. I didn’t mean to deceive you, but I couldn’t bear to let you go. I only wanted to be the person you could lean on, even if it meant never being loved in return. But I can’t stay anymore. I don’t want to be an eyesore. Then, the final blow—I’m sick. Jason had been suffering in silence. The weight loss, the nosebleeds—they weren’t just stress. He had AML—leukemia. The confession wasn’t just about love. It was his goodbye. He had been your rock. But now, when he was slipping away—would you finally hold on? Or had you already lost him?