Chapter 1
"Attention passengers on flight AF912 from Brighthaven to Parisian," the announcement echoed through the bustling airport terminal, "please take your belongings and have your boarding passes ready for boarding at Gate 18." Liam Worthington shot up from his seat, took two hurried steps forward, then suddenly turned back to grab his forgotten suitcase. With a quick pat on his cheeks to shake off the nerves, he set off again towards the boarding gate. “Hey! Hello!” The voice of Nathaniel Blackwood boomed through his earbuds. “Liam! Can you hear me? I said—” Liam blinked out of his daze and finally remembered they were on a call. “I’m boarding! Can’t talk right now.” “Don’t think just because you’re good-looking you can slack off," Nathaniel reprimanded, raising his voice. "You’re headed to confess your feelings, and you’re not even wearing a suit! Speaking of which, it’s been six years, right?” Before Liam could respond, Nathaniel continued, “Wait, no, it’s seven years. By rounding up, you’re practically like an old folk tale character!” “Shut up! I’m not some fairytale character!” Liam said, exasperated. “Besides, he’s only been abroad for a little over a month.” “Honestly, you’re not even close to being a fairytale character!” Nathaniel countered, his tone teasing. “The real deal was stuck waiting for 18 years for her man while you’ve just been pining in silence!” Liam rolled his eyes. It wasn’t as if he didn’t find Nathaniel’s truth captivating—he just knew it wasn’t the time for comparison. Seven years. Seven years of quietly loving Marcus Sinclair, the epitome of high school charm and the top student. He had fought for Marcus, endured heartache, and chased dreams all while being a mere shadow in Marcus's eyes. And now? Now he was on a flight to Paris, ready to finally pour his heart out. Steeling his resolve, he thought, “Forget love; I’m just gonna be me—Liam Worthington, the rich kid! That’s got to count for something, right?” Meanwhile, Marcus Sinclair found himself backed into a familiar street corner, feeling the weight of expectations. He was the model student, looking calm and composed, but behind his icy exterior was a heart full of warmth that had once aimed to protect Liam from every trouble life threw at him. Now, he blinked in surprise as it dawned on him—Liam hadn’t come to save him this time. With his mind racing, Marcus took matters into his own hands. He shooed away the troublemakers as he straightened his shirt, then dashed toward the Worthington residence. His heart sank when he was told he could no longer visit Home of the Bright Family. The very next day, something had shifted in Marcus. He found himself uncharacteristically seeking Liam out. “You quit the Home of the Bright Family’s tutorial classes. What’s your plan for college? You’re just gonna dodge everything? You don’t want to further your education?” Liam shrugged, unbothered. “College? What do I care? My family has connections and money! Who needs a degree?” Marcus stared, incredulous. “And what about me?” After a moment's contemplation, Liam pulled out his wallet and stuffed cash into Marcus's hands. “Here. Take this. Now, get lost.” Two very different paths intertwined once again—the aloof but brilliant student, Marcus, and the carefree wealthy heir, Liam. Was love worth risking it all for a second chance? **End of Chapter 1**
Chapter 2
As Nathaniel Blackwood sighed, he glanced at Liam Worthington and muttered, “Let’s be real, Liam. With your looks and your family’s pedigree, even if you have a niche preference for guys—so what? There are plenty of options out there. Why are you so hell-bent on chasing after someone named Sinclair? It’s a bit pathetic, don’t you think?” Pathetic? Liam didn’t feel that way at all. And as for whether he liked guys or girls, he didn’t waste time pondering that—he just had a crush, and the only thing that mattered was actually winning over Marcus. After a brief digression from Nathaniel, Liam made a dash for the boarding gate, only to find a line of three or four people ahead of him. He positioned himself firmly as the fifth in line, bouncing on his heels in anticipation. The sunlight streaming through the large windows cast a striking reflection of Liam—wearing a metallic baseball cap, a retro tee, dark cargo pants, and edgy, studded boots that screamed “cool” from head to toe. The only thing that clashed with his “cool” vibe was the slightly too enthusiastic grin on his face. His phone buzzed again, Nathaniel still prattling away, “You’re really just going to walk up there without saying a word to him first?” “Where’s the surprise in that?” Liam shrugged as he took off his headphones, pulling out his boarding pass. He stared at the word "PARIS" printed on it and took a deep breath—exhaling slowly to calm his racing heart. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t anxious; he’d spent ages planning for this moment. Destination: Paris. Mission: confess his feelings to Marcus Sinclair, the object of his affection for seven long years. Yet calling it a mere crush hardly captured it. After sharing a home for three or four years, even the thickest of people should realize they’re more than just friends. And considering Marcus’s sharp intellect, he hardly fit the mold of “dense.” Liam was convinced that all it took was for him to break through that metaphorical window between them—and today, he was determined to cross thousands of miles to shatter it. The flight was scheduled to last eleven hours. Soon after takeoff, a cheerful flight attendant with blonde hair and blue eyes wheeled the beverage cart down the aisle. Liam rubbed the stiffness from his face, just about to call out for a soda, when he caught sight of her smile. “Coca, merci beaucoup,” he managed in his best French accent. The attendant beamed, handing him the drink as she asked in French what meal he would like. As she departed, an older woman beside him leaned in. “You’re a Chinese-American, right?” Liam waved her off, the metal chains adorning his arms jingling softly. “Were you raised in France then?” the woman pressed further. “First time visiting,” Liam replied, eyes crinkling into a smile. His sparkling gaze resembled two black gems. “I picked up some French from friends.” The woman looked surprised. She studied Liam for a moment, her gaze lingering on his snake-shaped ear piercings. His trendy attire, adorned with extravagant earrings and necklaces, reminded her of many young people she’d seen in France—almost all of them being talentless rich kids. Initially, she had assumed he was just another member of that crowd. But gazing into his pure, bright eyes, she began to reconsider her guess.
Chapter 3
Liam Worthington had just finished listening to Marcus Sinclair converse in French. As a language teacher at the Academy of Learning, she understood that mastering a language at this level required countless hours of effort. “French is tough. What made you want to learn it?” Aunt Beatrice asked, raising an eyebrow curiously. “A friend wanted to learn,” Liam replied, a smirk spreading across his face at the mention of the word "friend." Liam had taken on the challenge of French alongside Marcus Sinclair. For someone like Liam, who had struggled academically, the idea of grasping a language more complex than English had been unthinkable. Yet, he had surprisingly managed to conquer the language just to spend more time with Marcus. Looking back at those thrilling days, Liam couldn’t help but feel that love was indeed a powerful motivator for self-improvement. With excitement bubbling within him at the thought of embracing this new chapter, Liam sat with one leg crossed over the other for a couple more hours. Aunt Beatrice nudged the conversation along again, “You're young and already dealing with insomnia?” “I’m not really sleepless, but I just don’t want to sleep,” he said, rubbing his face. Despite his cheeks feeling almost numb, he still smiled. “You should think about dating,” Aunt Beatrice suggested with a wink. Liam hesitated for a moment. “Actually, I am dating someone,” Aunt Beatrice mused, giving it some thought. “You mentioned learning French with a friend. That friend wouldn’t happen to be your girlfriend, would she?” Liam paused for a few seconds and then nodded. With the truth soon to come out, there was no harm in admitting it a few hours early. Aunt Beatrice's interest piqued. “With looks like yours, I bet she’s gorgeous!” Maybe it was the thrill of about to confess, or perhaps it was the natural admiration he felt for a genius like Marcus Sinclair that made Liam chat more animatedly. “He’s the best-looking person I’ve ever met, and he's brilliant.” “Brilliant, huh?” Aunt Beatrice repeated, intrigued. “I used to go to the same Academy as him. Whenever he was around, nobody else stood a chance at being first in anything—be it tests or competitions. Oh, and he was the top scorer on the college entrance exams,” Liam stated proudly. “Top scorer? That’s impressive. He must be studying in Paris now,” Aunt Beatrice said, surprised. “Yep,” Liam confirmed, the brightness in his eyes growing fonder. He named the Academy he attended, all the while chuckling. In fact, Liam was also set to study abroad in France soon—though his Academy wasn’t as prestigious as Marcus's, and he hadn’t received a full scholarship like Marcus. Still, they would at least be in the same city. With Aunt Beatrice wishing him well, the two began discussing the safety situation in France before falling into their own quiet thoughts. After several hours, Liam finally heard the exhilarating landing announcement. As soon as he disembarked, Liam opened his WeChat. - What are you up to? His finger hovered over the send button for a few seconds as he bit his lip, ultimately backspacing and deleting the message. The overnight flight from Brighthaven to France meant that the local time was only shortly past 5 AM; he could tell Marcus was still asleep. After navigating through customs and hailing a cab, it was finally 7 AM by the time he checked into The Starlit Inn. He tapped out two lines of text again: Any plans for the weekend? Library or dorm? No response. By the time he settled into his room and sat on the bed for a good while, his phone finally buzzed. Eagerly, he checked the screen only to find Marcus's simple response: Busy. Marcus had already been in France for over a month and had surely taken care of all the necessary paperwork. What else could he be busy with? A slight frown crossed Liam's face as he licked his lips, typing back: What are you busy with? Not at the Academy?
Chapter 4
Liam Worthington was getting impatient. He had just received a prompt reply from Marcus Sinclair: “I'm outside.” Outside. If Marcus wasn’t at the Academy today, Liam wouldn’t be able to throw a snowball from the window right away. He felt a bit disappointed, but then he realized that outside was still outside—he could throw a snowball at any window, not just the Academy's. However, the chances of having a romantic encounter outside the Academy were significantly lower. After thinking for a few seconds, Liam shot a follow-up message: “How about sending me a scenic photo to brighten my day?” There was no response for a while. This kind of thing happened often. They had even argued about Marcus's slow replies a few times before. Liam couldn't quite remember the specifics, but he knew it always ended with him apologizing and making it up to Marcus. After all, it wasn't every day that someone like him had his eye on the House of the Sinclair. Liam let out a sigh. He felt anxious but didn't want to rush him. Almost half an hour passed before Marcus finally responded: a rather lackluster photo of the Triumph Arch, missing half of it in the frame. Still, it was enough to get Liam moving. He rushed out of The Starlit Inn and hopped into a cab. “Take me to De Gaulle Square.” The driver nodded and the engine roared to life. As the car sped through the streets, Liam gazed out the window for a moment, then reached into his backpack and pulled out a small, deep red box. Inside, two simple, unadorned rings gleamed against the black velvet lining. They were the surprise he had planned after breaking through the figurative window with Marcus. Liam had spent a lot of time choosing these. In the end, he settled on the most understated design—anything flashy would definitely turn Marcus off. Over the course of seven years, Liam had envisioned various scenarios for confessing his feelings. Now, with the moment finally at hand, a wave of excitement mixed with a flicker of nervousness washed over him. What if Marcus said no? But surely he wouldn’t, right? After all, he had chosen to move into Liam's rented apartment during college, and they had been living together for quite a while now. Liam nodded to himself, trying to boost his confidence: "Worry about nothing. When I find him, I'm just going to pull out the rings and say, ‘Be my boyfriend.’" Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts, a figure suddenly darted into the path of the cab. With screeching brakes and the driver’s angry curses echoing in the air, Liam’s mind raced. What if he popped the question in public? What if Marcus got upset? He was so prideful and disliked being the center of attention. Even during their farewell hug at the airport, Marcus had complained that two grown men embracing was too conspicuous. The driver cursed for a moment, then got the car moving again. Liam caught snippets of a commotion outside—it sounded like someone was being held up at gunpoint in the street. Places without gun control laws felt dangerous. Handing over an engagement ring in public could easily draw the wrong kind of attention. Not to mention how likely it was that he would end up annoying Marcus with a grand gesture. After weighing the pros and cons, Liam decided it was best to wait. He’d go for the snowball throw with Marcus first. As for the surprise—well, he could always reveal the rings later, at The Starlit Inn that night. With a resolute flutter of his heart, Liam tucked the ring box back into his pocket.
Chapter 5
A little over ten minutes later, the car pulled up to De Gaulle Square. This was Liam Worthington's first trip to France, yet the square and the Champs-Élysées felt oddly familiar to him. His companion, Marcus Sinclair, had an intense fascination with France that surprised Liam. He had asked Marcus about it more than once, but had never received an answer. Influenced by Marcus's passion, Liam found himself increasingly captivated by the idea of France. Late at night, after Marcus had left for his trip, Liam had spent countless hours scrolling through pictures of Paris, dreaming of walking the same streets infused with love and longing. And now, that dream was finally becoming a reality. Rubbing his cheeks in disbelief, Liam followed a map on his phone to find the spot where so many iconic photos had been taken. As he gazed upon the Arc de Triomphe, identical to the images he had admired online, Liam smiled. He was just about to send Marcus a message when his eyes caught a familiar figure nearby. To be precise, he recognized that silhouette all too well—he could even sketch the pattern on the fabric from memory. It was a custom outfit he had made for himself, and its twin was sitting in his suitcase at The Starlit Inn. But the way that familiar figure was currently interacting with someone else was entirely unfamiliar to him. Marcus Sinclair stood beside the Arc de Triomphe, tightly embracing another person. From the soft, tousled hair and their attire, it was unmistakably a guy. In other words, Marcus Sinclair was holding another man close for all to see, his chin resting on the other’s shoulder, a rare smile lighting up his face. Liam felt his stomach drop. He was momentarily frozen in a mix of anger and shock. Once he regained his composure, he bolted over and pulled the shaggy-haired stranger away from Marcus. The other person yelped, drawing curious stares from passersby. Marcus instinctively placed himself protectively behind the stranger. When he spotted Liam, his expression shifted to one of confusion, and he furrowed his brow. “Liam Worthington.” Peeking from behind Marcus, the tuft-headed guy blurted out, “Mingyu, you know him?” “You’re deaf? Didn’t you hear him call my name?” Liam shot back at the shaggy-haired guy, his gaze still fixed on Marcus's face. The guy licked his lips nervously. “Mingyu, he… you two…” Marcus’s face shifted slightly, a hint of concern creeping in. He straightened his mouth and removed his gold-rimmed glasses. “Liam Worthington, what’s gotten into you?” Liam was all too familiar with this motion; it was Marcus's prelude to confrontation. Although he likely wouldn’t actually get physical, this gesture was a clear indicator of his agitation. Liam glanced at the bent arm of the glasses and took a deep breath. He had come here today to make a piercing declaration, not to pick a fight. With that in mind, he fiddled with the necklace hanging from his neck and did his best to keep his tone steady. “Alright, let’s talk it out. We don’t just know each other—we’re quite close. He is my…” “High school classmate,” Marcus interjected, smoothly cutting Liam off. After putting away his glasses, he stared coldly at Liam. “What are you doing here?” Meeting Marcus's eyes, Liam felt a jolt in his gut. Before arriving in France, he had envisioned many scenarios for their reunion—surprised, unexpected, joyful, or even shock. He had prepared for every possible reaction from Marcus except this one. Disgust and annoyance.
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