“When the Past Calls Again”
The studio was quiet in that focused, expensive way—soft lighting rigs humming overhead, white backdrops stretched perfectly taut, assistants moving like shadows behind equipment.
Evelyn adjusted her camera strap carefully.
Lavender hair, slightly messy in a loose braid that kept slipping over her shoulder. Emerald green eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the frame through her lens, completely locked into her world.
In front of her stood Anna, the model—poised, graceful, already halfway into a pose like she was born inside cameras.
Evelyn lifted her hand slightly, voice calm but respectful.
“Ma’am… hands closed,” she said softly.
Anna blinked, then shifted immediately, adjusting her fingers the way Evelyn wanted. No hesitation.
“Like this?” Anna asked.
“Yes,” Evelyn replied quickly, almost instinctively. “Perfect… just hold that.”
Click.
The shutter snapped.
Evelyn didn’t smile. Not because she was cold—but because she was precise. Every shot mattered. Every detail had weight.
She leaned slightly to the side, checking the angle again.
“Chin a little higher, Ma’am,” she added, still polite, still focused.
Anna followed without complaint, clearly used to Evelyn’s quiet intensity.
Click. Click.
The studio lights caught the edges of Evelyn’s lavender braid, making it glow faintly as she moved around the tripod, searching for the perfect frame that only she could see.
For a moment, everything aligned—the posture, the light, the silence between breaths.
Evelyn’s finger hovered over the shutter.
And then—
She stopped.
Something outside the studio window caught her attention.
A passing movement. A familiar silhouette in the distance.
Her emerald eyes narrowed slightly.
“…No way,” she murmured under her breath.
For the first time in the entire shoot, Evelyn looked away from her camera.
Evelyn blinked once, surprised enough that her usual control slipped for a second.
The studio door stood half-open, the light from inside spilling into the hallway.
Daniel was there.
Dark brown hair neatly styled, sharp suit like he had walked out of a completely different world. But his eyes—steady, observant—still carried the same familiarity she remembered.
Evelyn’s grip loosened slightly on the door handle.
“Daniel… how are you? It’s been so long since I saw you,” she said, softer than usual.
Daniel gave a small smile, the kind that looked polite on the surface but carried history underneath.
“Well, well…” he said, glancing past her into the studio where Anna was still waiting for direction. “This little Eve actually achieved her dream.”
Evelyn frowned slightly at the nickname but didn’t deny it.
“I told you not to call me that anymore,” she replied, but there was no real irritation in her voice.
Daniel stepped a little closer, just enough for his presence to feel intentional.
“Photographer Evelyn,” he corrected lightly, nodding toward the camera inside. “I should’ve guessed. You always saw things differently.”
Behind her, the studio was still running—lights glowing, assistants waiting, Anna holding her pose patiently.
But Evelyn wasn’t fully there anymore.
Her emerald eyes narrowed slightly.
“…Why are you here, Daniel?”
The question hung in the air.
Daniel didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, his gaze shifted—just briefly—toward something behind her shoulder.
Something outside the studio.
Something Evelyn had noticed earlier too.
And then he said it, calmly:
“Because I havegot a surprise for you.”
Daniel reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out a card—thick, cream-colored, with embossed gold lettering that caught the studio lights.
He didn’t rush. He just placed it gently into Evelyn’s hand.
“Eve,” he said quietly, using the old nickname again but softer this time, “this invitation is for you.”
Evelyn looked down at it, not opening it yet.
Daniel continued, his tone more grounded now.
“We’re hosting a reunion party for the 99th badge. Yeah… that’s us. The ones who studied at Brooklyn College.”
The name alone shifted something in the air.
Brooklyn College.
Not just a place. A timeline.
A version of them that still existed somewhere under everything they had become.
Daniel watched her reaction carefully.
“I’ve contacted most of the classmates already,” he added. “Everyone who mattered… or at least everyone who’s still reachable.”
Evelyn’s fingers tightened slightly around the invitation.
The studio behind her suddenly felt louder again—the camera clicks, Anna’s quiet waiting, the soft shuffle of assistants.
But her focus had already drifted far away.
Back to hallways she hadn’t walked in years.
Back to people she hadn’t spoken to since everything ended too suddenly.
“…Why now?” Evelyn asked finally, her voice lower.
Daniel didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he took a small step back, glancing past her shoulder toward the studio window again—like he was making sure something, or someone, wasn’t listening.
Daniel noticed her reaction and quickly softened his tone.
He gave a small, almost reassuring smile.
“Relax, Eve,” he said, tapping the invitation lightly with two fingers. “It’s just a reunion party. Nothing dramatic.”
Evelyn looked at him for a moment, still holding the card.
Daniel continued, more casually now.
“We’re hosting it for the 99th badge. Brooklyn College batch. That’s all.”
He shrugged slightly.
“Most of our classmates are coming. I’ve already contacted them and sent this out.”
From inside the studio, Anna shifted her pose slightly, still waiting for Evelyn’s direction. The lights hummed softly again, pulling Evelyn back to the present.
But her eyes lingered on the invitation.
Brooklyn College.
The name brought back flashes—hallways, group projects, laughter, stress, friendships that once felt permanent.
Evelyn exhaled slowly.
“…A reunion party,” she repeated under her breath.
Daniel nodded. “Yeah. Just one night. Everyone together again after years.”
He glanced at her camera setup inside the studio.
“You don’t have to decide right now. Just… think about it.”
A brief pause.
Then, as he stepped back toward the door, he added lightly:
“And Eve? It might be nice to see everyone again.”
The door closed softly behind him, leaving Evelyn standing there with the invitation in her hand and the quiet buzz of the studio around her.
For a moment, she didn’t move.
Then she looked back at her camera.
At Anna.
At the life she built after Brooklyn.
And for the first time in a while…
she wasn’t sure which world she belonged to.
They both exchanged phone numbers
Daniel paused at the door for only a second.
His hand rested lightly on the handle, as if he wanted to say something more—but he didn’t.
Instead, he just gave Evelyn a small nod.
No dramatic goodbye. No extra words.
Then he opened the door and stepped out.
The soft click of it closing behind him echoed through the studio.
Silence settled back in.
Evelyn stood still, the invitation still in her hand, its edges slightly creased now from her grip.
From inside the studio, Anna gently broke the quiet.
“Evelyn… should I hold the pose?”
Evelyn blinked, like she had just been pulled back into her own body.
“…Yes,” she said quickly, professional voice returning. “Hold it for five more seconds mam.”
Click.
The camera sounded normal again. Familiar. Safe.
But Evelyn’s thoughts weren’t fully in the studio anymore.
Daniel’s words kept repeating in her mind.
Brooklyn College reunion.
A week.
She glanced down at the invitation again.
Then, almost to herself, she murmured:
“…See you after a week, Daniel.”
Not a question.
Not really a goodbye.
Just the quiet acceptance that something from her past had already started moving toward her present.
And this time…
she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening.
Evelyn exhaled slowly, letting the earlier moment with Daniel sink into the back of her mind where she could safely ignore it for now.
She lifted her camera again.
Click.
The studio shifted back into rhythm—light, pose, shutter, silence.
Anna changed positions as directed, flowing naturally this time. Evelyn moved around her with quiet precision, lavender braid slipping slightly as she leaned in for a lower angle.
Click. Click.
After a few more shots, Evelyn stepped back and lowered the camera.
“All done,” she said softly.
Anna relaxed immediately, breaking into a small smile. “Can I see them?”
Evelyn nodded and turned the screen toward her.
A few images appeared.
Clean composition. Soft lighting. Emotion captured without effort.
Anna’s eyes widened slightly as she scrolled.
“…Wow,” she murmured. “These don’t look like photos. They look like moments you stole from time.”
Evelyn gave a small, almost shy shrug. “I just follow my heart.”
Anna stopped on one image—a portrait where she was mid-turn, hair flowing naturally, expression calm but powerful. It looked unposed… even though it wasn’t.
“This one,” Anna said immediately.
She looked up at Evelyn.
“I want this for the magazine.”
Evelyn blinked once, then checked the frame again herself, making sure she agreed—not out of habit, but intention.
“…Good choice,” she said quietly.
Anna smiled wider. “You’re seriously talented. Why aren’t you already everywhere?”
Evelyn didn’t answer right away.
Her fingers lightly adjusted the camera strap.
“…I am,” she said simply. “Just not in the way people usually notice.”
Anna tilted her head, still impressed. “Well, they should.”
Evelyn packed up her equipment slowly, glancing once at the selected photo on the screen before turning it off.
For a moment, everything felt normal again.
Then her eyes drifted—just slightly—to the invitation still sitting in her bag.
Brooklyn College.
A week.
A reunion.
She closed her eyes for a second, then reopened them with quiet focus.
“Let’s send the final file,” she said, switching back into professional mode.
But somewhere underneath that calm…
something was already counting down.
The studio was quiet in a different way now.
Not the busy, controlled silence of a shoot—but the empty kind that only comes after everyone has left.
Evelyn sat in front of her computer, the glow of the screen reflecting faintly in her emerald eyes. Rows of edited photos were lined up neatly—final adjustments, color balance, lighting corrections.
Click. Save. Export.
Her fingers moved with practiced ease, even as her thoughts drifted in and out of focus.
Outside, night had fully settled over the city.
When she finally finished, she leaned back in her chair and exhaled softly.
“…Done.”
For a moment, she just sat there.
Then she stood up, stretching her arms slightly, rolling her shoulders to release the tension from the long shoot. The lavender braid she’d fixed earlier had loosened again, a few strands falling near her face.
She didn’t bother fixing it this time.
Evelyn walked through the studio slowly, checking everything like she always did at the end of the day.
Lights off. Equipment stored. Backdrops secured.
Click.
Click.
Each lock on drawers and cases echoed faintly in the empty room.
The last thing she did was shut down the main light panel. The studio dimmed instantly, leaving only the soft glow from the streetlights outside filtering through the glass.
Evelyn picked up her bag, pausing near the counter.
Her fingers hovered for a second over the invitation inside.
Brooklyn College.
She didn’t take it out.
Not yet.
Instead, she zipped the bag closed and slung it over her shoulder.
She walked to the front door, hesitated just briefly, then flipped the sign hanging on it.
CLOSED
The lock clicked into place behind her.
Outside, the city felt colder at night—quieter, but not peaceful. Just waiting.
Evelyn stepped onto the sidewalk, pulling her coat slightly tighter.
For a moment, she looked up at the streetlights.
“…A week,” she murmured to herself.
Then she started walking.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Just forward.
And somewhere in that quiet walk home, the past she had put away carefully for years…
started quietly waking up again.
Jace.
Evelyn stopped walking for a second.
His name didn’t feel like the present—it felt like a door she had once closed carefully, only for it to keep quietly existing behind her thoughts.
Her mind drifted back.
Back to college days at Brooklyn.
The laughter that came too easily when he was around. The arguments that somehow never stayed angry for long. The way he acted like he didn’t care, yet always ended up staying just a little longer than necessary.
And then there was that moment.
A quiet shift between them—something unspoken turning real for a brief second too long.
A kiss she never really talked about after.
Her first kiss was stolen by him.
Not because it meant nothing.
But because it meant too much to explain simply.
After that… everything changed.
The way they looked at each other changed.
The way they avoided certain conversations changed.
Even the silence between them started feeling different.
The way they both found secret ways to found each other without others noticing.
And then life did what it always does.
It pulled them apart.
Evelyn blinked slowly, coming back to the cold night air around her.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her bag strap.
“…Jace,” she whispered again, but this time it sounded less like a memory and more like an unfinished sentence.
Because some things don’t really end.
They just wait for the right moment to start again.
And the reunion wasn’t just an event.
It was a countdown to everything they never resolved.
Evelyn slowed her steps as she passed a row of softly lit storefronts.
A big luxurious boutique packed with clothes.
Her reflection flickered across the glass—lavender hair slightly messy from the long day, oversized coat hanging loosely on her frame. Functional. Comfortable. Nothing like what people expected from someone who worked with fashion every day.
She stopped in front of a dress shop.
Mannequins stood behind the window in elegant silhouettes—silk, satin, soft pastels and deep evening shades. Nothing loud. Just quiet confidence stitched into fabric.
Evelyn stared for a moment longer than she meant to.
“…I don’t really have anything like that,” she murmured to herself.
Most of her clothes were practical. Baggy shirts, simple coats, pieces that let her move freely between shoots and edits. Clothes that didn’t ask to be noticed.
But the reunion…
Brooklyn College.
She exhaled lightly, almost amused at herself.
It wasn’t like she needed to impress anyone.
Still…
Her eyes drifted back to the display.
Maybe she just wanted to feel a little different that night. Like stepping into a version of herself she had left behind.
Evelyn pushed the door open.
A soft bell chimed.
Inside, the shop was warm and quiet. Racks of carefully arranged dresses lined the space, colors flowing like a calm gradient—soft creams, deep blues, muted reds.
She ran her fingers lightly along one fabric as she walked.
“I should pick something simple,” she said under her breath.
Then paused.
“…And maybe a few pieces for the studio too.”
Because her world wasn’t just her anymore. There were models, shoots, faces she shaped through her lens.
If she was stepping out of her usual rhythm for the reunion, maybe she could also bring something new back into her work.
A shop assistant noticed her and approached politely.
“Looking for something specific, ma’am?”
Evelyn thought for a moment, then shook her head slightly.
“Not specific,” she said calmly. “Just… something that feels tomy heart.”
Her eyes drifted again to the dresses.
For the first time that day, she wasn’t thinking about deadlines or edits.
Just herself.
And what it might feel like to show up at a place from her past… not as who she used to be—
but who she had become.
Evelyn moved deeper into the boutique, her focus shifting back into professional mode.
“Ma’am,” she said politely to the shop assistant, “I’m also looking for a few luxury pieces. Something elegant for editorial shoots.”
The assistant nodded quickly. “Of course. What kind of theme?”
“High fashion. Strong silhouettes. Something that stands out in photos.”
Within minutes, a few curated pieces were brought out—luxury fabrics, structured designs, soft shimmer under the changing light of the shop.
Evelyn walked slowly between them, eyes sharp and observant again, like she was already seeing them through a camera lens instead of just as clothes.
She paused at one rack.
Two dresses immediately caught her attention.
The first was bold—dark, dramatic, almost rebellious. A gothic-inspired prom dress, with sharp detailing and a savage elegance to it. It wasn’t soft. It demanded attention.
Evelyn reached out and lightly touched the fabric.
“…This would photograph beautifully,” she murmured.
Then her eyes shifted to the second one.
Completely different energy.
An elegant floral dress, soft layers flowing like petals, delicate embroidery catching the light in subtle ways. It felt calm, graceful—like quiet mornings and slow music.
She studied it for a moment longer.
Two extremes.
Two moods.
Two very different stories a camera could tell.
Evelyn straightened slightly.
“I’ll take both,” she said simply.
The assistant blinked. “Both?”
“Yes,” Evelyn replied without hesitation. “One for contrast shoots… and one for something softer.”
She paused, then added almost thoughtfully, “And I’ll pick a dress for myself too.”
Not for a shoot.
Not for a client.
Just for her.
For the reunion she hadn’t fully decided how she felt about yet.
As the assistant moved to pack the dresses, Evelyn looked back once at the mirror near the fitting area.
Lavender hair. Emerald eyes. A woman who built her life through other people’s moments.
“…Let’s see what I look like outside the frame,” she said quietly to herself.
And for the first time that night, the idea of Brooklyn College didn’t feel like just a memory—
it felt like an arrival.
The bell above the boutique door chimed again.
Evelyn didn’t even need to turn fully at first—she just heard the shift in the room. Footsteps that didn’t belong to staff. A presence that felt… familiar in a way her body recognized before her mind did.
Then she looked up.
Her eyes widened slightly.
“…Amelia?”
A woman stood near the entrance.
Red hair—no longer soft or uncertain, but styled with confidence, framing a face that looked calmer than Evelyn remembered. Ice-blue eyes that used to stay lowered in hallways now held themselves steady, direct.
And she wasn’t dressed like someone trying to disappear anymore.
She was dressed like someone who arrived.
The woman’s expression broke instantly into a bright smile.
“OMG, Evelyn!” she said, stepping forward without hesitation. “It’s really you!”
Evelyn blinked once, still processing the change.
“…Amelia,” she repeated, softer this time.
Amelia laughed lightly, almost disbelieving. “I can’t believe I ran into you here.”
For a second, the boutique faded away.
Because Evelyn’s memory didn’t go to the present first.
It went back.
Brooklyn College.
Quiet hallways.
A girl who always stood at the edge of groups—Amelia. Soft-spoken, overlooked, sometimes pushed aside by louder personalities like Abigail and her circle.
Evelyn remembered it clearly.
The day she stepped in.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just enough to make it stop.
After that, things changed—at least a little. For Amelia.
But Evelyn never really saw what came after.
Until now.
Because the girl standing in front of her wasn’t quiet anymore.
She was confident.
Balanced.
Like someone who had learned how to take up space in the world without asking permission.
Evelyn’s gaze softened slightly.
“You’ve changed,” she said honestly.
Amelia tilted her head, smiling. “So have you. I saw your work online. You’re incredible now.”
Evelyn looked away for a second, almost uncomfortable with praise.
“…You look good,” she admitted instead.
Amelia did a small spin, playful but elegant, showing off her bold dress.
“Thank you. I don’t dress like this for nothing anymore.”
Her eyes flicked toward the dresses Evelyn had picked out on the counter.
“And you?” she asked. “Reunion shopping?”
At that word, something subtle passed between them.
Both of them understood instantly.
Brooklyn College wasn’t just a memory anymore.
It was coming back.
Evelyn gave a small nod.
“…Yeah,” she said quietly. “Looks like we’re all being pulled back.”
Amelia’s smile softened just a little.
“Good,” she said. “Then I’m glad I ran into you first.”
And for the first time that night, Evelyn felt it clearly—
the past wasn’t just waiting anymore.
It was starting to gather again.
Evelyn moved toward the back of the boutique, where the casual section was displayed—oversized coats, loose shirts, simple neutral-toned outfits.
Her hand hovered over a soft grey set.
“…This should be enough,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “I don’t need anything complicated.”
From behind her, Amelia’s voice came immediately.
“Evelyn.”
It wasn’t loud. But it had that familiar firmness of someone who wasn’t afraid to interrupt her anymore.
Evelyn paused.
Amelia walked over, bold dress flowing slightly as she moved, confidence settling into every step.
“No,” Amelia said simply, shaking her head. “Let me choose for you. Come on.”
Evelyn glanced at her, mildly surprised.
“…You?”
“Yes, me.” Amelia smiled, already reaching toward a different rack. “You always dress like you’re hiding in your own life.”
Evelyn blinked once, then looked away as if that statement was too accurate to respond to immediately.
“That’s not—” she started.
“It is,” Amelia cut in gently, not unkind. “And you don’t have to anymore.”
That made Evelyn quiet.
Amelia began pulling out pieces—carefully chosen, not flashy, but structured. Clothes that still felt comfortable, but sharper. More intentional. Like they belonged to someone who wasn’t afraid to be seen.
“Try this,” Amelia said, holding up a layered outfit with a soft but tailored silhouette. “It’s still you. Just… upgraded you.”
Evelyn hesitated.
Then sighed lightly.
“…You’ve become very persuasive,” she muttered.
Amelia grinned. “I learned from life.”
Evelyn took the clothes slowly.
For a second, she looked at them like she was deciding whether to step into something unfamiliar.
Then she nodded once.
“Fine,” she said. “Just one set.”
Amelia’s smile widened. “That’s all I need.”
As Evelyn headed toward the fitting area, Amelia called after her lightly:
“And Evelyn?”
Evelyn turned slightly.
Amelia’s expression softened, just for a moment.
“I’m really glad you’re coming to the reunion.”
Evelyn didn’t answer right away.
But she held the clothes a little more firmly in her hands.
“…Yeah,” she said quietly. “Me too.”
And for the first time since Daniel’s visit, the idea of going back didn’t feel like reopening the past.
It felt like stepping toward it—on her own terms.
Amelia stepped forward with a playful spark in her eyes.
“Okay,” she said, pointing lightly at Evelyn. “Now it’s your turn. Pick my outfit.”
Evelyn didn’t hesitate.
She already knew Amelia’s style.
Bold. Modern. Confident—but with structure.
She moved through the racks quickly, fingers brushing past fabrics like she was already composing a frame in her mind.
“I think…” Evelyn said softly, “this will suit you.”
She pulled out an ice-blue off-shoulder top with long, flowing sleeves—elegant but striking, like calm water with hidden depth.
Amelia’s eyes widened slightly. “Ooo.”
Next, Evelyn paired it with a white high-waisted mini skirt with pockets—clean, sharp, youthful, but still practical.
She didn’t stop there.
A white structured bag followed.
Then a plain, delicate necklace—minimal, intentional.
Hoop earrings for balance.
And finally, white boots to tie the whole look together with a confident finish.
Evelyn stepped back a little, evaluating her own choice like she was reviewing a final edit.
“There,” she said simply. “That should work for you.”
Amelia looked at herself in the mirror as the outfit came together piece by piece.
Then she turned toward Evelyn with a knowing smile.
“You’re seriously the best at picking outfits for other people,” she said. “But not for yourself.”
Evelyn blinked once.
“…From the start,” Amelia corrected gently, still smiling. “You always saw everyone else clearly. But yourself? You keep it… simple. Too simple.”
Evelyn didn’t respond immediately.
Her eyes stayed on Amelia’s reflection for a moment longer than usual.
“…It’s easier that way,” she said finally.
Amelia tilted her head. “Or safer?”
That landed quieter.
Evelyn looked away first, adjusting the edge of the rack like it suddenly needed attention.
“…Maybe,” she admitted softly.
Amelia walked closer, standing beside her now instead of in front of the mirror.
“But not for long, right?” she asked.
A pause.
Evelyn didn’t answer.
But she didn’t deny it either.
And for a brief moment, between dresses, reflections, and old memories waiting somewhere in the background—
both of them stood in the same thought:
Brooklyn College wasn’t just a reunion anymore.
It was about to become a version of themselves they hadn’t met in years.
Amelia suddenly turned toward her, eyes bright with excitement.
“Wait—oh my gosh, Evelyn,” she said, half laughing, half serious. “Please be my personal assistant.”
Evelyn blinked once, caught off guard.
“…Your what?”
Amelia stepped closer like the idea had already become reality in her head. “I’m serious. I mean it. You’re literally perfect at this. You pick outfits better than half the stylists I’ve met.”
Evelyn let out a small breath, glancing away like she was trying to process the sudden shift.
“That’s not how it works,” she said calmly. “I’m a photographer, not—”
“Not what?” Amelia interrupted immediately. “Not someone who can organize shoots, style looks, understand visuals, and make everything look expensive without trying?”
Evelyn gave her a flat look.
“…You’re exaggerating.”
Amelia grinned. “Am I?”
For a second, Evelyn didn’t answer.
The boutique around them was still quiet, dresses hanging neatly, the soft hum of music in the background. But Amelia’s energy made everything feel a little more alive.
Evelyn finally shook her head slightly.
“I have my own work,” she said. “Clients, shoots, deadlines.”
Amelia tilted her head. “So? I have schedules, events, interviews, people telling me what to wear every five minutes. Sounds like you’d survive.”
Evelyn almost smiled at that.
“…You’re impossible,” she muttered.
“Correct,” Amelia said proudly. Then softer, more genuine: “But I’m serious about wanting you around more.”
That made Evelyn pause.
Amelia didn’t push further this time. She just looked at her, waiting.
Finally, Evelyn exhaled slowly.
“I can’t be your assistant,” she said. “But…”
Amelia raised a brow.
“…I can help you sometimes,” Evelyn added. “If it doesn’t interfere with my work.”
Amelia’s face lit up instantly.
“That’s basically a yes!”
Evelyn sighed lightly, but there was less resistance in it now.
“…Don’t make it sound bigger than it is.”
Amelia laughed. “Too late.”
And for the first time in a while, Evelyn didn’t feel like she was just stepping back into her past.
She felt like someone from it had just stepped into her present.
Evelyn paused halfway through packing the shopping bags.
“…Wait,” she said, turning toward Amelia properly this time. “What do you actually do now?”
Amelia blinked. “You mean my job?”
Evelyn nodded.
Amelia smiled a little, almost amused by the question.
“I’m a singer.”
For a second, Evelyn just stared at her.
Then her emerald eyes visibly lit up.
Not polite interest.
Real excitement.
“A singer?” she repeated.
Amelia laughed softly at the sudden change in her expression. “Yes, Evelyn. A singer.”
“That explains the confidence,” Evelyn murmured under her breath.
Amelia crossed her arms playfully. “Excuse me?”
Evelyn ignored that completely, already thinking ahead.
Her photographer instincts had switched on instantly.
The visuals. The styling. The contrast between Amelia’s old self and who she had become now.
It was perfect.
Evelyn stepped closer slightly, eyes focused in that intense creative way Amelia was starting to recognize.
“Can you be my next model?” Evelyn asked suddenly.
Amelia blinked in surprise.
“Your… what?”
“For a shoot,” Evelyn clarified quickly. “Not a commercial one. Something artistic.”
Her voice became calmer as the idea formed in her head.
“I want to capture this version of you.”
Amelia stared at her for a second, caught off guard by the honesty in that sentence.
Because Evelyn wasn’t talking about clothes anymore.
She meant her.
The growth. The confidence. The transformation.
Amelia’s expression softened.
“…You really see people deeply, don’t you?”
Evelyn looked away immediately after being called out like that.
“I just notice details,” she said quietly.
Amelia smiled knowingly.
Then she held out her hand dramatically.
“Well then, Miss Photographer,” she said, “I’d be honored to be your next model.”
Evelyn looked at her hand, then shook it lightly.
“Good,” she said simply.
But inside, ideas were already unfolding in her mind like camera flashes.
And Amelia noticed something important in that moment—
When Evelyn talked about photography…
she looked happiest.
Amelia quickly took out her phone.
“Give me your number before I disappear again,” she said.
Evelyn let out a small amused sigh and handed her phone over. Within seconds, the two exchanged contacts.
“Saved,” Amelia announced proudly. “And now you officially can’t avoid me.”
“I was never trying to,” Evelyn replied calmly.
Amelia gave her a look. “Debatable.”
Before Evelyn could answer, the boutique door suddenly opened again.
A group of girls near the entrance froze.
One of them gasped.
“…Amelia?”
Another immediately pulled out her phone.
“Oh my gosh, it is her!”
Within seconds, the atmosphere changed completely.
Excited whispers spread across the boutique, more people recognizing her face.
Amelia’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh no.”
Evelyn blinked. “You’re that popular?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Amelia muttered dramatically.
She quickly paid for her clothes, grabbed the bags, and pulled a mask from her purse with practiced speed.
Before leaving, she pointed at Evelyn.
“Don’t disappear before the reunion.”
Then she lowered her voice.
“And text me about the photoshoot.”
Evelyn nodded once. “I will.”
Amelia gave her one last grin before rushing out of the boutique, fans immediately following after her excitedly outside the glass windows.
The shop slowly settled back into quiet.
Evelyn watched through the window for a moment.
“…She really became someone big,” she thought softly.
Then she turned back toward the counter and paid for her own dress and the outfits she selected for her models.
The staff thanked her politely, but Evelyn stopped before leaving.
“These collections are really well selected,” she said sincerely. “The styling balance is good. Elegant without being repetitive.i cant belive i picked twenty dresses just for my models”
The employees looked genuinely surprised by the compliment.
“Thank you so much, ma’am,” one of them said quickly.
Evelyn gave a small nod.
“Could I have the boutique’s contact number?” she asked. “I work with models often. I may need outfits for future shoots.”
The staff immediately agreed, happy to provide it.
“And…” Evelyn added after a small pause, “is your manager available? I’d like to speak with them briefly.”
The employees exchanged quick glances before nodding again.
“Of course, ma’am. Please wait a moment.”
Evelyn stepped slightly aside, shopping bags resting near her feet as she waited calmly.
Outside, the city lights reflected softly against the boutique glass.
Inside, the staff whispered quietly among themselves.
Evelyn billed her dresses.
One of the staff members returned after a moment.
“Sorry, ma’am,” she said politely. “The manager isn’t available right now, but our fashion designer is here if you’d like to speak with him.”
Before Evelyn could respond, another voice spoke casually from nearby.
“I hope I’m enough of a replacement.”
Evelyn turned instantly.
And froze.
A man stood near the staircase area of the boutique wearing comfortable layered clothes instead of formal fashion-brand attire. Light green hair fell slightly over his glasses, and his yellow eyes carried the same relaxed warmth she remembered from years ago.
“…Oliver?”
His brows lifted slightly in surprise too.
“Well,” he said with a small smile, “what a pleasant surprise.”
Evelyn stared for half a second longer before walking straight toward him and hugging him without hesitation.
Oliver blinked, clearly caught off guard.
When she finally stepped back, he laughed softly.
“We’ve been this close to each other all this time and never knew?” he said.
Evelyn shook her head slightly, still surprised.
“You’re the fashion designer here?”
Oliver adjusted his glasses with a small shrug. “One of them.”
Evelyn glanced around the boutique again—the carefully styled displays, the balanced collections, the elegant details she had noticed earlier.
Then she looked back at him.
“Your designs are awesome, Fashion Designer Oliver,” she said genuinely.
Oliver let out a dramatic sigh. “Wow. Full title too? I feel honored.”
“You should,” Evelyn replied calmly.
That made him laugh again.
For a moment, it felt strangely easy.
Like Brooklyn College hadn’t been years ago.
Like they were still classmates running into each other between lectures and unfinished assignments.
Oliver leaned lightly against the counter.
“You changed,” he said after a moment.
Evelyn raised a brow. “So did you.”
“Fair.” He glanced at the bags beside her. “Still choosing clothes for everyone else before yourself?”
Evelyn narrowed her eyes slightly. “Why does everyone keep saying that today?”
Oliver grinned immediately.
“Because it’s true.”
Evelyn looked away, pretending to inspect one of the displays instead.
Oliver’s smile softened slightly as he watched her.
“…It’s really nice seeing you again, Evelyn.”
This time, her expression softened too.
“…You too, Oliver.”
And somewhere deep down, Evelyn realized something unexpected:
The reunion hadn’t even happened yet.
But one by one—
Brooklyn College was already finding her again.
Oliver’s eyes widened slightly behind his glasses.
“Wait,” he said, straightening a little. “You saw Amelia?”
Evelyn nodded.
“At this shop,” she replied, glancing toward the entrance where Amelia had rushed out earlier. “She nearly caused a fan explosion before escaping.”
Oliver laughed immediately.
“Yeah, that sounds exactly like her.”
Evelyn crossed her arms lightly. “She’s a singer now.”
“I know,” Oliver said with an amused smile. “A pretty successful one too.”
Evelyn blinked. “You knew?”
“Evelyn,” Oliver said dramatically, “unlike you, some of us actually keep up with people after graduation.”
She gave him a flat look.
“I was busy.”
“With photography,” he corrected knowingly.
“With work,” Evelyn replied.
Oliver hummed like he didn’t fully believe that distinction.
“She used to barely talk above a whisper,” Evelyn said after a moment, still sounding faintly surprised. “And now she walks around looking like she owns every room.”
Oliver smiled softly at that.
“I think she learned she had to,” he said. “People change when they finally stop letting the world decide who they are.”
That made Evelyn quiet for a second.
Then she looked toward one of the mannequins absentmindedly.
“She asked me to be her personal assistant.”
Oliver nearly choked on his own breath laughing.
“She WHAT?”
Evelyn looked mildly offended. “Why is that funny?”
“Because Amelia asking someone to stay close to her is the least subtle thing imaginable,” Oliver said, still laughing.
Evelyn frowned slightly. “I said no.”
Oliver immediately pointed at her.
“And then agreed anyway in a smaller sentence afterward, didn’t you?”
Evelyn opened her mouth.
Paused.
Then closed it again.
Oliver stared at her triumphantly.
“I knew it.”
“She just asked for occasional help,” Evelyn muttered.
“Mhmm.”
“She’s also going to model for one of my shoots.”
Oliver blinked once.
“…Okay, now I understand her completely.”
Evelyn sighed softly, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in it now.
Oliver leaned against the counter comfortably.
“So,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity, “ Amelia already found you before the reunion…”
Oliver pulled his phone from his pocket casually.
“Well,” he said, “since apparently everyone from Brooklyn College is reappearing one by one… give me your number before you vanish again.”
Evelyn sighed lightly. “Why does everyone think I disappear?”
“Because you do,” Oliver answered immediately.
She couldn’t even argue with that.
A few moments later, they exchanged numbers, Oliver saving her contact with an unnecessarily dramatic expression.
“There,” he announced proudly. “Now Fashion Designer Oliver and Photographer Evelyn are officially reconnected.”
Evelyn shook her head slightly. “You still talk too much.”
“And you still look like you haven’t slept properly in years.”
“…Goodbye, Oliver.”
He laughed softly.
As Evelyn gathered her shopping bags, Oliver’s expression softened just a little.
“I’m really glad you’re coming to the reunion,” he said.
Evelyn paused near the entrance.
The warm lights of the boutique reflected faintly in her emerald eyes as she looked back at him.
“…Me too,” she admitted quietly.
Then she stepped outside.
The cool night air greeted her immediately, carrying the distant sounds of traffic and the glow of city lights stretching endlessly ahead.
Shopping bags rested against her arms as she walked toward the sidewalk.
A reunion invitation in her bag.
Amelia’s number in her phone.
Oliver back in her life unexpectedly.
Everything felt strangely connected tonight, like pieces of a past she thought had scattered were slowly finding each other again.
Evelyn looked up at the night sky for a moment before continuing toward home.
And somewhere deep inside her—
beneath the calm expression, beneath the professionalism, beneath the carefully built life—
a small part of her was starting to feel nineteen again.
By the time Evelyn reached her apartment building, the city had quieted down.
Not completely—this city never truly slept—but enough for the streets to feel softer around the edges.
She climbed the stairs slowly, shopping bags hanging from her arms, exhaustion finally beginning to settle into her shoulders.
Her apartment wasn’t large.
And honestly, it never needed to be.
Even though she earned enough now to buy a bigger place—a luxurious apartment, maybe even a house—Evelyn never wanted that kind of life.
She liked simplicity.
A quiet home. Warm lighting. Enough space for her camera equipment, editing desk, and the peace she rarely found outside.
That was enough for her.
When she stepped inside, the familiar calm wrapped around her immediately.
No noise.
No expectations.
Just home.
Evelyn placed the shopping bags near the couch before slipping off her shoes and loosening the sleeves of her blouse.
After a long shower, the tiredness of the day finally melted away slightly.
She changed into soft pajamas, comfortable and oversized like most things she wore at home.
Then she stood in front of the mirror, gathering her lavender hair up into a high messy bun, a few loose strands falling around her face no matter how many times she adjusted them.
“…Good enough,” she murmured quietly.
The apartment lights reflected warmly against her emerald eyes as she walked barefoot across the room toward the kitchen.
For the first time all day, she was alone with her thoughts.
And unfortunately…
that meant Brooklyn College returned immediately.
Daniel.
Amelia.
Oliver.
The reunion.
And somewhere between all those thoughts—
Jace.
Evelyn leaned lightly against the kitchen counter, closing her eyes for a brief second.
“…This week is going to be exhausting,” she whispered to herself.
But despite the words—
there was the smallest trace of anticipation hiding underneath them.
On the other side of the city, far from Evelyn’s quiet apartment, a black car stopped in front of a massive mansion surrounded by tall gates and dim golden lights.
Daniel stepped out, adjusting the sleeves of his suit before walking toward the entrance.
The mansion looked expensive in the kind of way that didn’t need to prove it.
Everything was polished. Controlled. Silent.
Before Daniel could knock properly, the front door opened.
A man stood there.
Dark blue hair neatly arranged, sharp features softened only slightly by the tiredness hidden beneath them. His purple eyes flickered with surprise for a split second before recognition settled in.
“…Daniel.”
Daniel smiled immediately.
“Jace.”
The formality lasted less than a second.
The two stepped forward and pulled each other into a quick hug like years hadn’t stretched between them at all.
When they pulled back, Jace shook his head lightly.
“You should’ve told me you were coming.”
“And miss the dramatic entrance?” Daniel replied. “Impossible.”
That earned the faintest smirk from Jace.
He stepped aside, letting Daniel enter.
The mansion interior was just as refined as expected—modern architecture, soft lighting, quiet luxury woven into every detail.
Daniel glanced around once.
“You really live here now, huh?”
Jace closed the door behind him calmly.
“It’s just a house.”
Daniel gave him a look. “Right. A small little cottage.”
Jace ignored the comment completely and walked toward the living area.
Even dressed casually, there was something naturally composed about him. Controlled. The kind of person who carried silence like it belonged to him.
Daniel watched him for a moment before speaking again.
“Here is the invitation”
Jace nodded once. “thanks.”
Jace poured two glasses of water before answering.
“…I’m coming.”
Daniel accepted the glass with a knowing expression.
“Thought so.”
A quiet pause settled between them.
Then Daniel spoke more carefully this time.
“I met Evelyn today.”
That did it.
Jace’s hand paused slightly against the glass.
Small.
Almost invisible.
But Daniel noticed.
Of course he noticed.
Jace looked up slowly, expression unreadable.
“…How is she?”
Daniel leaned back slightly.
“She’s doing well. Photographer now. Talented too.”
Jace looked away for a moment, eyes distant.
“…That sounds like her.”
Daniel studied him quietly.
Years had passed.
Success had changed all of them in different ways.
But some names still carried weight no matter how much time moved forward.
And Evelyn…
was clearly still one of them for Jace.
Jace had become someone impossible to ignore.
A famous actor.
The kind people recognized instantly from billboards, interviews, magazine covers, and flashing cameras outside events. His visuals alone made headlines constantly—sharp features, calm charisma, and an expression that always looked like he knew more than he said.
Fashion brands chased him.
Luxury labels wanted him at every event.
Modeling offers never stopped arriving.
And yet, standing inside the quiet mansion with Daniel, he looked less like a celebrity and more like the same person from Brooklyn College who used to sit silently at the back of lectures pretending not to care about anything.
Daniel took a slow sip of water before asking carefully,
“How’s your father?”
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Subtle.
But heavy.
Jace lowered his gaze slightly toward the glass in his hand.
“…He passed away.”
Daniel froze.
For a second, he didn’t know what to say.
“…Jace,” he said quietly.
Jace gave a small nod, calm on the surface.
“It happened months ago.”
Daniel set his glass down slowly.
“You should’ve told me.”
“There wasn’t much to say,” Jace replied.
But Daniel could hear it—the exhaustion hidden underneath the controlled tone.
Jace walked toward the large windows overlooking the city lights outside.
“My father and I…” he paused briefly, searching for the right words. “We were never close in the easy way.”
Daniel stayed silent, letting him continue.
“But he was still my father.”
The mansion felt quieter after that.
Not empty.
Just filled with the kind of silence that comes after loss settles into someone’s life permanently.
Daniel finally stood and walked closer, resting a hand briefly on Jace’s shoulder.
“You handled everything alone again, didn’t you?”
Jace gave the faintest smile.
“When have I ever done anything differently?”
Daniel sighed softly because unfortunately—
that was true.
Jace had always carried things quietly.
Pressure. Expectations. Grief.
Even back in college, he rarely let people see when something hurt him.
Except....
There had once been one person who noticed anyway.
Evelyn.
"Are you alright?" daniel asked
Footsteps echoed softly from the staircase above.
“Daniel— he is not alright ”
A woman hurried, stopping the moment she saw him.
Dark blue hair framed her face neatly, almost identical in shade to Jace’s, but her eyes were different—deep red, striking enough that people recognized her instantly on screen.
Judy.
Jace’s twin sister.
One of the most famous actresses in the industry, standing beside Jace in popularity rather than behind him. Magazine articles constantly compared them—the perfect twins with impossible visuals.
But unlike Jace’s cold elegance, Judy carried sharper emotion openly.
Right now, worry was written all over her face.
“Daniel, please help me,” she said immediately.
Jace sighed softly under his breath.
“Judy—”
“No,” she interrupted, turning toward him briefly before looking back at Daniel again. “He hasn’t been normal since Father passed away.”
Jace’s jaw tightened slightly.
“And Mother keeps forcing him into work like nothing happened,” Judy continued, frustration slipping through her voice. “Meetings, shoots, interviews, fashion events—everything.”
Daniel looked between the twins quietly.
Judy stepped closer, arms crossed tightly now.
“He barely sleeps,” she said. “He just works and works like if he stops for one second, everything’s going to collapse.”
Jace looked away toward the window again.
“That’s enough.”
“No, it’s not enough,” Judy shot back immediately. “You think ignoring yourself is somehow being strong.”
The room fell silent after that.
Daniel watched carefully.
Even now, the twins mirrored each other in strange ways—same pride, same habit of carrying pain quietly until it overflowed somewhere else.
Judy exhaled slowly, calming herself.
Her expression softened slightly as she looked at her brother.
“…You don’t have to handle everything alone all the time, Jace.”
For the first time since Daniel arrived, Jace looked genuinely tired.
Not actor Jace.
Not celebrity Jace.
Just… Jace.
Daniel finally spoke gently.
“The reunion might actually be good for you.”
Jace gave a faint humorless laugh.
“A college reunion fixes grief now?”
“No,” Daniel replied calmly. “But seeing people who knew you before all this might remind you that you’re still human.”
That made Jace go quiet again.
Judy finally cane to her senses and Judy’s expression softened immediately as she stepped toward Daniel and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug.
“Good to see you again,” she said warmly.
Daniel smiled, hugging her back lightly.
“You too, Judy.”
For a brief second, the heavy atmosphere lifted. The mansion felt less tense, less filled with grief and unfinished conversations.
When they pulled away, Daniel looked between the twins dramatically and sighed.
“Okay, okay, emotional family reunion later,” he said. “I still have plenty of houses left to visit.”
Judy laughed softly. “You’re personally delivering every invitation?”
“Of course,” Daniel replied proudly. “Someone has to make sure none of you escape.”
Jace leaned lightly against the table, finally looking a little less distant than before.
“You always liked being involved in everyone’s business.”
“And you always needed someone to drag you into social interaction,” Daniel shot back instantly.
Judy snorted quietly at that.
Daniel picked up his coat and headed toward the entrance.
Before leaving, he paused near the door and looked back once more.
“Seriously though,” he said, tone softer now, “come to the reunion.”
Jace didn’t answer immediately.
Then finally:
“…I said I would.”
Daniel nodded once, satisfied.
“And try not to arrive looking like the nation’s saddest luxury brand ambassador.”
Judy burst out laughing immediately.
Even Jace looked mildly offended.
“Get out.”
Daniel grinned triumphantly.
“See you both in a week.”
With that, he stepped outside, the mansion doors closing softly behind him.
The silence returned again.
But this time—
it didn’t feel quite as heavy.
The final day before the reunion arrived faster than anyone expected.
Class B chatted making a group.Evelyn didn’t even looked at them busy with the photoshoots.
A full week.
That was the plan.
Not just a reunion dinner or a few awkward hours of catching up—but an entire week together.
Brooklyn College had arranged it almost like a retreat for former students, giving each class separate accommodations and schedules while still sharing the main campus events.
Back then, the college had been divided into three main classes:
Class A.
Class B.
Class C.
And somehow, despite all the years that had passed…
Daniel still ended up in charge.
Just like old times.
Former class leader of Class B.
Reliable. Organized. Impossible to refuse once he decided something.
Which was exactly why the college administration handed him responsibility for coordinating most of the reunion activities for their batch.
And unfortunately for everyone—
Daniel took that role very seriously.
By evening, nearly every former student from Class B had received the same message.
The reunion address.
Arrival instructions.
And one final line:
“Be there by 6 PM. Don’t make me hunt you down personally.” — Daniel
At his apartment, Daniel sat surrounded by lists, schedules, phone chargers, printed name tags, and half-finished coffee cups.
His phone kept buzzing endlessly.
Classmates confirming attendance.
People asking questions.
Others already complaining.
Daniel rubbed his forehead dramatically.
“…I should’ve rejected this responsibility.”
But even he knew he didn’t mean it.
Because underneath the stress, there was excitement too.
Everyone was coming back.
Meanwhile, across the city—
Evelyn stood in front of her bed staring at the neatly prepared outfit Amelia helped her choose.
The white blouse.
Brown skirt.
Pearl earrings resting beside the choker.
For the first time in years, she felt nervous about seeing people.
Not clients.
Not strangers.
People who knew her before she became Photographer Evelyn.
And somewhere else—
Jace stood silently while stylists argued over which outfit would suit him best for the reunion, completely unaware that he looked more intimidating standing still than most people did dressed perfectly.
Judy was already teasing him nonstop.
Oliver was probably designing something last minute instead of sleeping.
Amelia had posted a mysterious story online hinting she was “finally going back somewhere important.”
And one by one—
without fully realizing it—
Brooklyn College’s Class B was preparing to collide again after years apart.
