Whispers of the Heart

CHAPTER 3

I had already started formulating some ideas when I saw the concept. It looked like a dark era comeback, and with Blake’s look and physique, I thought it would be easier to handle.

“Zi, are you going to have lunch?” Lim, my classmate, asked.

I nodded and started packing my things. My friend had a class, so I would be on my own for lunch.

“Can I join you?” Lim suddenly asked, standing beside me.

“Sure, I don’t mind,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

We walked out of the classroom together, the chatter of students and the smell of the cafeteria filling the hallway. I tried to focus on the rhythm of our steps, but I couldn’t help noticing how his presence seemed to fill the space, like he carried his own kind of warmth wherever he went.

Lim is kind to everyone, which is why I let him join me.

When we reached the cafeteria, we ordered our food. I had my usual carbonara with orange juice, while Lim went for rice with chicken.

We spotted a vacant table near the window, and I went to grab it.

“You're done with your design? I don’t have anything ready for the final runway model,” he said as we started eating.

I nodded once, still staring at my carbonara. “I finished last night, but I still have some ideas I want to add.”

“You really amaze me,” he said with a grin.

I laughed a little, but then the whispers of a few girls nearby caught our attention.

“It was Luan,” Lim said, nodding toward the counter where Blake seemed unbothered as his classmates laughed and ordered.

“Luan?” I squinted, trying to place the name.

Lim shrugged and gave me a half-smile. “Luan Blake. He’s my half-brother, but… we’re not close.” He leaned back against the table, running a hand through his hair like he didn’t really want to talk about it. “Honestly, I have no idea why he transferred here.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Wow, small world.”

Lim smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He glanced back at the counter, then leaned closer, lowering his voice. “You know… we were close back in high school, but then he just rented his own place and barely came home anymore.”

“Maybe… adulting? Let him do what he wants. He’s old enough to know things, or at least figure them out.”

Lim shook his head and gave a small, wry smile. “I don’t think so. Anyway, your birthday is on Sunday, right? Do you have any plans?”

I froze for a second, a flicker of surprise crossing my face. I was a little shocked that he knew. I don’t celebrate birthdays. I am not even sure if April is really my birth month.

I looked down at my food, quietly gathering my thoughts before answering.

“Nothing,” I said with a slight shrug. “Maybe I’ll have coffee with Lei.”

Lim simply nodded, his expression unreadable, and went back to eating as if it were just another casual question. The conversation slipped into silence, filled only by the soft clatter of utensils and the low hum of the cafeteria.

After lunch, we headed back to class. The bell rang around 4 P.M., and I stayed behind for a moment, silently packing my things into my bag.

Lim offered me a ride since his house was on the way to my apartment, but I declined. I just wanted some time to myself. On my way home, I decided to stop by a convenience store instead, picking up some ramen and coffee for dinner before finally heading back to my place.

I was reaching for a pack of noodles when a familiar voice came from behind me.

“Ramen for dinner? That is unhealthy, Ms Ashford.”

I froze and slowly turned around. Blake, Lim’s half-brother, was leaning against the shelf with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

His expression was calm but cold. Honestly, he always looked annoyed even when he was not.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” I said, hugging my coffee a little closer.

He smirked slightly and tilted his head. “Do you know Lim?”

“He is a classmate. Why?” I asked, standing up a little straighter and failing to reach the ramen.

“Nothing,” he answered and reached over for the ramen, handing it to me.

I took it from him, nodded, and walked past without saying anything. I walked straight to the counter, paid, and grabbed a tricycle to go home.

He acts naturally in public, as if everything is normal, even though at any moment, fans and paparazzi could show up.

I stay close enough to do my job as his stylist, but never close enough to be mistaken for something more.

I don’t like chaos, and I don’t want to involve myself beyond what’s necessary. No unnecessary conversations, just work.

Because in a world where everyone is watching him, the last thing I want is to be seen beside him as anything other than the person who makes sure he looks perfect.

The days passed by like a tornado. One moment it was Monday, and now it was already Saturday. I finished getting ready around 7 a.m., and our call time was at 8 a.m.

After double-checking for the third time, I finally zipped my bag shut. My heart was beating a little faster than usual, a mix of excitement and nerves settling in my chest. This wasn’t just any photo shoot. It felt bigger… important.

I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my keys, and took one last glance around my apartment before locking the door behind me. The hallway was quiet, the kind of quiet that only existed early in the morning.

The air outside was cool, brushing softly against my skin as I made my way to the terminal. A few people were already there—commuters, vendors setting up their stalls, the distant sound of engines starting up. I checked the time again. 7:14 a.m.

Better early than late.