The woman standing before him wore an elegant off-shoulder outfit that seed effortlessly refined.
Her straight black hair frad her face like silk, her complexion pale as fresh snow, with a natural blush warming her cheeks.
Her makeup was flawless, subtle yet striking, and her lips carried the precise tint of soone who understood aesthetics down to the smallest detail.
He recognized her instantly.
Jacqueline
The Jacqueline of Hollywood.
One of the most influential figures in the entire industry. It was often said that without her approval, no rising star could truly succeed.
Seeing her in person felt unreal, as though a figure had stepped out of a painting.
She smiled slightly, waiting.
Theodore scrambled to his feet. "I am so sorry," he blurted out. "I did not answer your question. The seat is not taken. Please, sit."
Jacqueline gave a small nod and took the seat, placing a book on the table before opening it. For a mont, the only sound between them was the soft turning of pages and the low murmur of café conversations.
After reading for a while, she noticed that Theodore was no longer looking outside. Instead, he was staring directly at her.
She closed her book calmly. "What is it?"
Finally having her attention, Theodore straightened. "I am a huge fan of yours."
Jacqueline arched a brow faintly. "Are you truly a fan, or are you pretending to be one?"
Theodore shook his head imdiately. "Your first work, the novel The Art of Ballet, I read it when it was released. I even watched the adaptation later. I genuinely admired it. And your second film, A Gritty Take on Life, touched deeply."
He hesitated, then added with sincere admiration,
"If I ever had the chance, I would want to work under your guidance. Unfortunately, our paths never crossed."
Jacqueline smiled faintly. "If I did not know better, I would think you were trying to curry favor."
Theodore laughed awkwardly and shook his head.
"I do not need to. I am already your fan. Even if nothing cos from this eting, I am happy just talking to you."
Watching him, Jacqueline almost chuckled.
’He really is like a golden retriever,’ she thought. ’Earnest, transparent, and completely unguarded despite the chaos around him.’
What Theodore did not know was that they had t once before, years ago.
Back then, Jacqueline had been an aspiring author struggling under the weight of her parents’ expectations.
Raised in an environnt of relentless standards and international schooling, she had discovered her passion for writing early and pursued it with determination. Yet severe writer’s block often left her feeling lost.
During that period, she kept noticing a young man appearing repeatedly at auditions.
That young man was Theodore.
At first, he had companions, but those sa companions later betrayed him.
Instead of reacting with bitterness, Theodore simply accepted it and continued forward, unchanged.
Even now, he was exactly the sa.
Unpretentious. Steady. Almost disarmingly genuine.
Back in the present, Theodore felt his heartbeat quicken. Few people could remain calm in Jacqueline’s presence, and he certainly was not one of them.
Their conversation gradually deepened. Jacqueline made several blunt observations about his acting habits and attitude.
Rather than feeling offended, Theodore nodded seriously and began jotting them down in a small notebook.
Seeing this, Jacqueline paused, then pulled out her own notes, pages where she had already written observations about him.
When Theodore realized this, his eyes lit up like a child’s. "You... you took notes on ?"
The excitent bubbling inside him was impossible to hide.
’This is what it feels like when your idol notices you,’ he thought, barely containing his joy.
He beca even more attentive, listening to every word.
Not far away, Eleanor had witnessed the entire interaction.
Her nails dug into her palm as she clenched her fist.
"Why?" she muttered under her breath. "Why is Theodore not like he was in the original novel? Why is he avoiding ?"
There was no answer.
Frustration twisted into sothing darker, an urge to tear everything apart just to force the story back onto its original track.
At that mont, the system’s chanical voice appeared in her mind.
[If you wish, a function can be activated. Theodore can be shown the obsession he once had toward you.]
Eleanor froze. "Is that... possible? Will he be able to see his past life?"
The system paused before responding.
[Do not interpret this as confirmation of a past life. That conclusion cannot yet be drawn.]
Silence followed.
Then the voice asked again, cold and neutral.
[Do you want to proceed?]
After repeating its words, Eleanor remained utterly confused.
A faint ringing still lingered in her ears, as if the system’s chanical tone had left an invisible echo behind.
Even though she had once desperately wanted to see Theodore humiliated, to see him trailing behind her like an obedient dog, fulfilling every whim and tantrum she threw at him, now Theodore was not even sparing her a glance.
He walked as though she did not exist, as though she were nothing more than a stranger passing through his world.
And he had beco an idol.
The more she thought about it, the more wronged she felt.
A sour bitterness rose in her chest, spreading like spilled ink, staining every thought.
’Why does this feel so unfair?’ she wondered, her fingers curling unconsciously. Finally, she could not bear the gnawing discomfort any longer.
"Do it," she muttered under her breath.
But the mont the words left her lips, she shook her head sharply, as if trying to fling the thought away.
"No... I’m seeing the wrong thing. Don’t do it."
She forced herself to keep watching Theodore.
She watched as Theodore and Jacqueline laughed together, their conversation flowing easily.
She watched them exchange numbers, their phones brushing lightly, and she watched how bright Theodore’s smile was, so bright that it felt unfamiliar, almost blinding. That smile had once been directed at her.
Suddenly, a scene from the original novel surfaced in her mind.
This mont... it was nearly identical.
The only difference was that, back then, it had not been Theodore and Jacqueline standing together.
It had been Eleanor and Matteo.
And Theodore... Theodore had been the one standing where she was now, silent, watching from a distance.
Now she finally understood.
A sharp ache spread through her chest as realization struck.
’So this... this is how he felt.’
The thought ca with a sting so intense that she could not stop the tears gathering in her eyes, blurring her vision before they could even fall.
Jacqueline stood up, preparing to leave. As she turned, her gaze brushed faintly past Eleanor.
The mont she saw Eleanor standing there, looking as though guilt alone might crush her, Jacqueline rely gave a small, mocking smile and walked past without a word.
So people belonged to the past, and they should remain there. That was the simplest courtesy. The most basic etiquette.
After Jacqueline left, Theodore also stood.
The earlier swarm of excited fans had already dispersed, leaving the air strangely quiet.
Perhaps they had expected so dramatic appearance from him and lost interest when none ca.
He was about to walk away.
But Eleanor stepped forward and blocked his path.
Theodore froze when he saw her. For a split second, genuine surprise crossed his face before instinct took over, and he shifted slightly, clearly intending to avoid her.
Eleanor noticed.
Panic surged through her.
She rushed forward and grabbed his hand.
"So now you’re going to ignore ?" she demanded, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound accusatory.
Theodore’s expression hardened instantly. He pulled his hand free with a sharp motion, as though her touch burned.
"You should have so sha," he said coldly.
Eleanor stared at him, stunned. "What kind of sha?"
Theodore’s gaze was steady, but there was sothing distant in it, sothing that had not been there before.
"I treated you as a friend," he said. "But when I was caught in the middle of that storm, you didn’t even think of clarifying things."
His words struck like a hamr.
Eleanor imdiately understood what he ant: the scandal.
The rumors that had exploded about the two of them.
At that ti, everyone had praised Eleanor for being such a loyal fan, while Theodore had been labeled arrogant and ungrateful.
And she had remained silent.
Not because she had nothing to say.
But because she had wanted to use public opinion to bind him to her side.
It had been a calculated decision.
A terrible one.
Theodore had cleared the rumors on his own, made a clean coback, and in the process, seen through her duplicity completely.
Now, desperation clawed at her.
"I... I was scared," she blurted. "I tried to post sothing, but I couldn’t log into my account. It was like soone hacked my phone."
Even as she spoke, she did not believe her own excuse. The words felt hollow, brittle.
Yet Theodore seed to accept it.
He frowned slightly, thinking. Perhaps Eleanor had intended to post sothing even worse back then, and Aurora had interfered by hacking her phone.
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