Smoke rose from the charcoal grill in lazy, grey plumes, carrying the rich, savory scent of charred beef into the crisp Australian afternoon. Sweat beaded on Felix's forehead, though it had nothing to do with the midday heat. Behind his oversized dark sunglasses, his eyes darted nervously around his cousin's bustling backyard, checking for any unfamiliar faces. Sizzling steaks demanded his attention, giving him a perfect excuse to keep his head down and avoid eye contact with the dozen or so relatives laughing and drinking nearby. Escape was all he had thought about during the grueling eleven-hour flight from Seoul to Sydney. Every muscle in his body still ached from the brutal eighteen-hour dance rehearsals his agency demanded, a relentless grind that had consumed his life for the past three years. "Just three weeks," he muttered to himself, flipping a slice of marinated short rib with a pair of long metal tongs. Music drifted from a portable speaker near the patio, a classic indie rock tune that felt worlds away from the highly polished, synchronized pop beats he had been forced to memorize until his feet bled. His shoulders relaxed, just a fraction, as the warm Australian breeze brushed against his neck, carrying the scent of eucalyptus and saltwater. For three weeks, he was supposed to be just Felix, a normal twenty-one-year-old visiting family, escaping the pressure cooker of the Korean entertainment industry. "Hey, flip those before they burn, little brother!" Joy, his older sister, marched over to the grill with a wide, mischievous grin, her arm draped casually around another girl's shoulders. Felix froze, the metal tongs hovering mid-air. Looking up, his breath caught in his throat. Strands of dark hair fell around the newcomer's face, framing sharp, striking eyes that seemed to take in every detail of his guarded posture. She held a professional-grade DSLR camera in one hand, its heavy lens swinging slightly against her hip, contrasting with her casual denim shorts and oversized linen shirt. "How come you never introduced her to me before?" Felix asked, his deep voice slipping into its natural Australian cadence, though a thread of nervous apprehension tightened his throat. Joy shrugged, nonchalantly popping a grilled mushroom into her mouth. "Well, I mentioned her to you before," she said, waving a hand between them. "I'm introducing her to you now. Felix, this is Lark. Lark, this is my annoying little brother." Lark looked at him, her gaze dropping to his hands, then rising to meet his eyes behind the dark lenses. "Wow, Stray Boy," Lark said, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips. "Nice to meet you." Cold dread spiked through his chest, his fingers tightening around the metal tongs. "Oh, you know..." Felix stammered, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "Yes, of course you're..." He swallowed hard, trying to force his lips into the practiced, camera-ready smile he had rehearsed a thousand times in the agency mirrors. "Of course you're Lark," he finished, his voice dropping an octave as he tried to regain his footing. Joy laughed, completely oblivious to the silent panic suffocating her brother. "Lark is a photographer," Joy explained, grabbing a plate of finished meat from the side table. "She's doing a shoot for my university graduation portfolio, so I dragged her here to get some real Aussie food." "Right," Felix mumbled, his mind racing. Did she know? How much did she know? Stray Boys hadn't officially debuted yet, but the pre-debut teaser videos had garnered millions of views worldwide, plastering his face across global fan communities. His agency, with its relentless, omnipresent rules wrapping around his throat like a collar, had explicitly forbidden any public outings or unapproved interactions during his vacation. "Don't worry, I won't leak your location to the fan forums," Lark said, her voice carrying a dry, teasing edge. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, entirely unfazed by his rigid posture. "Thanks," he managed to say, his knuckles white against the metal handle of the tongs. Joy pulled Lark away toward the outdoor dining table, leaving Felix alone with his spiraling thoughts. Sweat rolled down his neck, cold despite the afternoon heat. Normalcy was already cracking. He needed a moment to breathe, a quiet space away from the prying eyes and the terrifying threat of exposure. Joy's Instagram had been his only window into the life he had left behind. Late at night, huddled beneath his blanket in the cramped trainees' dorm, he would scroll through his sister's feed using a burner account. That was how he had first seen Lark. She was a constant presence in Joy's photos, always laughing, always holding her camera, radiating a vibrant energy that made his heart ache with jealousy and longing. He had spent hours looking at those pictures, silently wishing he could be a part of that carefree world. Now, she was standing right in front of him, and the reality was far more overwhelming than any digital image. Grilling became a mindless task as he tried to process what had just happened. His sister had mentioned a friend from university before, but he had never paid much attention during their brief, chaotic video calls. Now, that very friend was standing in the same backyard, holding a camera that could easily end his career with a single uploaded photo. If his agency found out he was associating with photographers without their explicit permission, they would cancel his debut in a heartbeat. They had done it to others before. One wrong move, one leaked rumor, and years of blood, sweat, and tears would vanish into nothingness. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his hands as he served the remaining food onto a large platter. Laughter echoed from the dining table, where Lark was already fitting in perfectly with his boisterous family. She laughed at one of his uncle's terrible jokes, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that felt entirely genuine. Unlike the fake, manufactured smiles he was forced to wear for the cameras, her laughter was warm and alive. He felt a sudden, sharp pang of jealousy. She had the freedom to laugh, to travel, to exist without a team of managers monitoring her every breath. "I need to get out of here," he whispered, his chest tightening. His head throbbed with a dull ache, a combination of jetlag and sheer panic. He set the platter down on the side table, grabbed a bottle of water, and started making his way toward the edge of the yard. --- Escaping the noise of the barbecue became his immediate priority. Shoving the metal tongs onto the side tray of the grill, Felix slipped past his chatting cousins and headed toward the side of the house. Quietness beckoned from the front yard, a sanctuary of empty pavement and shading eucalyptus trees where he could finally think. He pulled his black bucket hat lower, shielding his eyes as he hurried down the narrow concrete path between the brick wall of the house and the wooden fence. Dry leaves crunched under his sneakers, the sound surprisingly loud in the narrow passage. Step by step, the chatter of his family faded, replaced by the heavy silence of his own racing thoughts. He had sacrificed everything for his dream, leaving Australia at a young age to train in a country where he didn't even speak the language fluently. He had given up his youth, his friends, and any hope of a normal life. Now, seeing Lark, a girl his own age who lived so freely, made him question the very foundation of his choices. His chest heaved as he reached the end of the path and stretched his hand toward the latch of the tall wooden backyard gate. Suddenly, the gate swung inward with a sharp, violent creak. Forward momentum carried him directly into a solid figure stepping through from the other side. Impact jarred his shoulder, sending a shockwave through his tense muscles. A sharp gasp cut through the air. Leather strapped around a shoulder slipped, and a heavy canvas bag tumbled to the concrete with a sickening, metallic clatter. Lenses spilled from the unzipped compartment, rolling across the dusty ground in every direction. "Oh, god," a voice gasped, raw with panic. Felix looked down, his heart leaping into his throat as he recognized the messy topknot of dark hair. Lark stared up at him, her intense gaze locking onto his as a wave of both recognition and panic washed over him, realizing his carefully constructed normalcy just shattered. "I am so sorry," he stammered, immediately dropping to his knees. Panic clawed at his throat as he reached for a heavy prime lens that had rolled near a patch of dry grass. His fingers trembled, his mind screaming at him to run, to hide, to preserve the fragile illusion of his anonymity before she could take a picture or tell anyone else. Lark knelt opposite him, her hands moving with frantic efficiency to gather her scattered gear. As their hands brush collecting fallen lenses, Felix feels a jolt and notices a familiar, small scar above Lark's left eyebrow – a detail he's only ever seen in perfectly framed Instagram photos.

Chapter 1: Summer's Sudden Collision