I was wiping down sticky menus at the bar when the group chat exploded.
đź’¬ Jenny: TOM. KANG. IS. HERE. AHHHHH
đź’¬ Mary: No way. Are you serious??
đź’¬ Jenny: Filming. At OUR campus. I'm shaking.
đź’¬ Sophia: Oh my god! NO FREAKING WAY!
I locked my phone and shoved it back into my apron.
Tom Kang. Again.
I had no idea who this Tom Kang guy was, but my friends were totally smitten. Some Hollywood actor, apparently.
And I hadn't seen the creepy guy with sunglasses who kept showing up at the bar for a few days. Guess he finally got bored and gave up.
Good.
But apparently, fate's an attention-seeking bitch.
---
Two weeks later, I was dragging my sore legs across campus, heading to the library job, when I heard it — the noise.
Screams.
High-pitched shrieking — the kind you'd expect at a concert, not a college campus. It echoed across the courtyard.
Phones were in the air. Girls were rushing toward the theater building. Someone even dropped their iced coffee and didn't stop to pick it up.
And there, standing on a bench like some deranged seagull, was Jenny.
"LIAAAAAA!" she screeched, waving both arms. "OVER HERE!"
I groaned. "Please no."
Too late. Mary grabbed my elbow from behind.
"There you are! Come on, come on, he's HERE!"
"Who?" I asked, deadpan.
"You know who!" she hissed. "Tom Kang! They're filming right now! He's literally on our campus in a white button-down and sunglasses. He looks like a fallen angel. You have to see."
"Wait... I think I've seen him," I muttered.
Mary blinked. "Wait, what?"
"Nothing."
She didn't hear me. She was already pulling me into the crowd.
---
The theater steps were roped off with orange tape, but that didn't stop dozens of students from pressing up against the line like it was the edge of heaven.
And there he was.
Tom Kang.
Golden-brown hair brushed back effortlessly. White shirt open at the collar. Dark slacks. Designer watch. Standing in the center of a camera crew, reviewing lines with someone who looked important. Laughing like this was all just a pleasant afternoon.
Phones clicked. Girls whispered his name like a prayer.
He looked exactly the same as he did at the bar — without the sunglasses this time.
Only now, everyone else saw him too.
He turned his head — scanning the crowd with those dark-grey eyes — and then, as if gravity nudged him, his gaze found mine.
We locked eyes.
My stomach twisted. I looked away first.
"See?" Mary whispered beside me. "Isn't he unreal?"
"Mm," I said.
"Wait, are you okay?" she asked. "You look like you saw a ghost."
"I'm fine. I just... remembered I have work. Gotta go."
"Wait—Lia!"
I was surprised. I didn't expect him to be that Tom Kang — a famous actor.
But I had no interest in him. I was busy. I had bills. I had life.
---
I left the courtyard, rounding the back of the building into the quieter part of campus. It was empty — no students, no crew — just warm air and gravel underfoot.
And then, from behind me — low, amused, and unmistakably smug:
"Elena."
I didn't turn around.
But he saw me.
And I knew—
This wasn't over.
-----