Children’s Day
The rain started before sunrise.
By seven in the morning, Ashbourne looked like someone had washed the entire city in silver.
Julian Carter stood beneath the striped festival tent outside St. Marianne Children’s Hospital, holding a box of paper crowns against his chest while cold wind whipped through the courtyard.
“Why,” he muttered dramatically, glaring at the sky, “does the universe hate volunteer workers specifically?”
“You say that every year,” a nurse laughed beside him.
“And every year I’m right.”
The nurse rolled her eyes fondly before disappearing back inside the hospital lobby.
Julian sighed and pushed wet strands of dark brown hair away from his forehead. His oversized cream sweater sleeves hung over his hands while he rearranged crayons and stickers across the craft table.
Children’s Day at St. Marianne was the biggest annual event the hospital held.
Normally the courtyard would already be crowded with families, volunteers, balloons, and local sponsors setting up booths.
But the rain had delayed everything.
The giant banner stretched above the entrance fluttered violently in the wind.
HAPPY CHILDREN’S DAY!
Julian stared at it for a second.
Something about those words always made his chest ache in a strange, distant way.
Like hearing a song he almost remembered.
“You’re spacing out again.”
Julian blinked.
A little girl sat cross-legged beneath the tent, hugging a stuffed rabbit almost as large as her torso.
Lily Bennett.
Nine years old. Leukemia survivor. Professional menace.
“You look sad,” she declared.
“I look cold,” Julian corrected.
“You look ugly when you lie.”
He gasped dramatically. “I volunteer my precious time to help society and this is the respect I get?”
Lily ignored him.
She tilted her head while studying him carefully.
“You dreamed about the fire again, didn’t you?”
Julian froze.
Just for a second.
Then he smiled too quickly.
“You’re way too observant for a tiny gremlin.”
“You always make jokes when you’re uncomfortable.”
“Who taught you psychology?”
“You.”
Right.
That sounded like him.
Julian crouched beside her and gently adjusted the pink beanie covering her head.
“You shouldn’t be outside too long,” he murmured softly.
“I wanted to help.”
“You helping usually creates problems.”
“That’s not true.”
“You released three therapy dogs into the cafeteria last month.”
“They looked unhappy.”
Julian snorted.
Lily reached into her bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“I drew something.”
“Oh no.”
She shoved the drawing toward him anyway.
Julian unfolded it slowly.
The sketch showed a tall figure standing in heavy rain beneath a streetlight.
A man in black.
Face hidden.
But somehow lonely enough to make Julian’s stomach tighten.
Beside the figure, Lily had drawn flames.
And above them:
THE SAD PRINCE.
Julian stared at it longer than he meant to.
“You dream about him again?” he asked quietly.
Lily nodded.
“He’s always alone.”
Something cold slid down Julian’s spine.
Before he could answer, loud voices echoed from the front gates.
The sponsors had arrived.
Immediately the peaceful courtyard transformed into chaos.
Luxury vehicles rolled through the gates one after another while security guards opened umbrellas and barked instructions into earpieces.
Hospital administrators suddenly straightened their posture.
Nurses whispered nervously.
Julian immediately knew rich people were involved.
You could always tell.
They arrived like storms.
“Julian,” Nurse Clara hissed from nearby. “Please behave today.”
“I’m always well-behaved.”
“You called the mayor a capitalist raccoon last year.”
“In my defense, he absolutely looked like one.”
“Julian.”
“Fine.”
She pointed toward the entrance.
“Hawthorne Media is sponsoring the renovation wing this year.”
The smile slipped from Julian’s face slightly.
Everyone in Ashbourne knew the Hawthorne family.
Rich enough to own half the city.
Powerful enough that nobody dared criticize them publicly.
Their media company controlled news stations, entertainment networks, newspapers..
everything.
Julian personally avoided rich people whenever possible.
They usually treated kindness like a transaction.
Then the black car arrived.
And suddenly the entire courtyard fell quieter.
Not silent.
Just… tense.
Like the atmosphere itself had straightened its spine.
One of the hospital directors rushed forward immediately.
Security guards stepped aside.
The back door opened.
Julian looked up absentmindedly, and forgot how to breathe for a second.
The man stepping from the vehicle looked unreal.
Tall.
Sharp black hair swept neatly away from pale skin.
A dark tailored coat fitted perfectly over broad shoulders.
Elegant enough to belong on a magazine cover.
Cold enough to freeze the rain around him.
Everything about him was composed.
Controlled.
Even his expression looked expensive.
But his eyes..
Gray-blue.
Detached.
Like someone permanently exhausted by the world.
Julian felt something strange twist low in his chest.
Not attraction.
Not exactly.
Recognition.
The man paused beside the car while an assistant handed him documents.
Then, suddenly..
His gaze lifted.
Straight toward Julian.
The world narrowed sharply.
For one impossible second, Julian had the overwhelming sensation of falling into something ancient and familiar.
Smoke.
Heat.
Rain.
A hand grabbing his wrist..
Julian inhaled sharply.
The feeling vanished instantly.
What the hell was that?
The stranger looked away first.
Like nothing had happened.
“Who’s that?” Julian asked quietly.
Nurse Clara looked horrified.
“You seriously don’t recognize him?”
“I avoid billionaires recreationally.”
“That’s Adrian Hawthorne.”
Ah.
That explained the emotional frostbite.
Adrian Hawthorne.
Future CEO of Hawthorne Media Group.
Ashbourne’s favorite golden heir.
Julian had seen photos online before, obviously.
Everyone had.
But photographs didn’t explain the strange heaviness surrounding him in person.
Adrian moved through the courtyard with several executives following behind him.
Doctors greeted him nervously.
Sponsors smiled too brightly.
No one touched him.
Interesting.
Most rich people loved attention.
Adrian looked like he barely tolerated human existence.
“Why does he look like he’s attending a funeral?” Julian muttered.
Lily tugged his sleeve.
“That’s him.”
Julian blinked down at her.
“What?”
“The sad prince.”
His stomach dropped slightly.
Before he could respond, a hospital coordinator hurried over.
“Julian! We need more volunteers near the east wing activity hall.”
“On my way.”
Julian grabbed supplies quickly before glancing back once more.
Adrian now stood beneath the hospital entrance banner while photographers snapped pictures.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
But despite the cameras and executives surrounding him, he still somehow looked alone.
Like none of this actually reached him.
Julian frowned slightly before forcing himself to look away.
Not his problem.
Definitely not his problem.
By noon, the festival had become complete chaos.
Children ran through hallways wearing paper crowns.
Face-paint stations overflowed.
Live music echoed through the hospital gardens.
Julian barely had time to breathe between helping nurses and entertaining children.
“Sir Julian!”
He turned dramatically.
“Yes, my loyal subjects?”
A tiny boy pointed accusingly at him.
“You promised dragon balloons!”
“I did not promise,” Julian corrected. “I implied aggressively.”
“THAT COUNTS!”
Julian laughed.
The sound came easily around children.
It always did.
Kids didn’t care whether you were rich or important or broken inside.
They just wanted honesty.
Julian preferred that.
“Fine,” he sighed dramatically. “I’ll hunt dragons personally.”
The children cheered.
As Julian turned toward the supply room, he nearly collided with someone rounding the corner.
Strong fingers caught his arm immediately.
Steadying him.
Warm despite the cold.
Julian looked up automatically..
And froze.
Gray-blue eyes met his again.
Adrian Hawthorne.
Up close, he looked even more unfairly attractive.
Julian suddenly understood why the internet lost its mind over him constantly.
His features were almost severe in their perfection.
Sharp jawline.
Straight nose.
Dark lashes contrasting pale skin.
The kind of face sculptors would become emotionally unstable about.
But there was something unsettling too.
Something tightly restrained beneath the surface.
Julian realized Adrian was still holding his arm.
Neither of them moved.
Then Adrian’s gaze dropped briefly toward Julian’s face.
Not flirtatious.
Not curious.
Almost confused.
Like he recognized something he couldn’t place.
“You should watch where you’re going,” Adrian said quietly.
His voice was lower than Julian expected.
Smooth.
Controlled.
Dangerously calm.
Julian blinked.
Then immediately recovered.
“Well, in my defense, this hallway was extremely attackable.”
A faint line appeared between Adrian’s brows.
Julian couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed or trying to process the sentence.
Probably both.
Adrian released his arm slowly.
The loss of warmth felt strangely noticeable.
“We’ve met before,” Adrian said suddenly.
It wasn’t phrased as a question.
Julian frowned.
“I don’t think so.”
Another pause.
Adrian stared at him carefully.
Too carefully.
Then, without warning, pain flashed briefly across his expression.
Sharp.
Instant.
Gone.
His hand moved unconsciously toward his temple.
Julian straightened slightly.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Immediate.
Cold again.
Like the vulnerability never existed.
Julian folded his arms.
“You don’t look fine.”
Most people probably wouldn’t dare say that to Adrian Hawthorne.
Julian had never been particularly gifted with self-preservation.
Adrian looked at him for another long moment.
Then his gaze shifted slightly past Julian.
Toward the children peeking curiously around the hallway corner.
Something in his expression changed.
Softened.
Barely.
But enough for Julian to notice.
Interesting.
One of the little girls waved timidly.
Adrian hesitated.
Then gave the smallest nod back.
The child beamed instantly.
Julian stared openly now.
Maybe the man wasn’t emotionally taxidermied after all.
“Mr. Hawthorne.”
An assistant hurried toward them nervously.
“The board members are waiting.”
Adrian’s expression hardened immediately.
Like a door slamming shut.
He looked back toward Julian one final time.
“What’s your name?”
“Julian Carter.”
Something unreadable crossed Adrian’s face again.
Almost like shock.
Then vanished.
Before Julian could ask why, Adrian stepped away.
But after only two steps, he stopped.
Without turning around, he asked quietly:
“Do you always volunteer here?”
Julian blinked.
“…Yeah.”
A pause.
Then Adrian walked away.
The assistant followed quickly behind him.
Julian stood motionless in the hallway long after they disappeared.
What the hell was that?
“Julian.”
He nearly jumped.
Nurse Clara raised an eyebrow.
“You look like you saw a ghost.”
“Worse.”
She glanced toward the hallway Adrian had disappeared down.
“Oh.”
Julian rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Does he always act like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like he’s remembering a murder.”
She snorted unexpectedly.
Then her expression dimmed slightly.
“There’ve always been rumors about Adrian Hawthorne.”
Julian frowned.
“What kind of rumors?”
Before she could answer, screaming laughter erupted from the activity room nearby.
A group of children burst into the hallway chasing balloons.
The moment broke instantly.
Nurse Clara sighed.
“Never mind. Forget it.”
But Julian didn’t forget.
Not even close.
That evening, the rain returned harder than before.
Most sponsors had already left.
Families slowly headed home.
The hospital grew quieter.
Julian helped stack chairs in the courtyard while exhausted volunteers cleaned up decorations.
His entire body ached.
Worth it though.
Children’s Day was always exhausting.
But seeing Lily laugh earlier..
seeing the kids smiling..
made it worth it.
“Julian.”
He turned.
Lily stood beneath the entrance awning clutching her stuffed rabbit.
“You’re still awake?”
“I wanted to say goodbye.”
Julian smiled softly and crouched beside her.
“Goodbye, menace.”
She frowned suddenly.
“The sad prince looked sadder today.”
Julian sighed dramatically.
“We really need to work on these nicknames.”
“He was staring at you.”
“That’s because I’m extremely charming.”
“No,” she said quietly. “Like he knew you.”
Julian’s smile faded slightly.
Before he could answer, headlights cut through the rain outside the gates.
Another black car waited near the curb.
Adrian stood beside it alone beneath a dark umbrella.
Even from this distance, he looked distant.
Unreadable.
Like a figure painted into the storm itself.
Then, unexpectedly..
his gaze lifted toward the hospital entrance.
Toward Julian again.
A strange chill ran through him.
The rain poured harder between them.
Neither looked away immediately.
And suddenly, without warning, a sharp image flashed through Julian’s mind.
Fire.
Smoke choking his lungs.
A trembling hand gripping his tightly.
A voice breaking apart while saying:
“Don’t disappear.”
Julian staggered slightly.
Pain pulsed behind his eyes.
The vision vanished instantly.
“What the hell…”
When he looked up again, Adrian was already entering the car.
The door shut softly.
The vehicle disappeared into the rain moments later.
Lily tugged Julian’s sleeve gently.
“You remembered something, didn’t you?”
Julian stared at the empty street.
His chest still felt strange.
Heavy.
Like his heart had recognized someone before his mind could.
“…No,” he lied quietly.
But for the first time in years..
he was no longer sure that was true.
