700 Years Later
The world had changed.
Chaos buzzed in every corner—people rushed through life as if racing time itself. The city never slowed, never stopped. It moved like sand slipping through clenched fists—fast, relentless, and unforgiving.
A sleek car pulled up in front of a towering building. The moment the door opened, the crowd around straightened in respect. People bowed, eyes widening with admiration.
Out stepped a man in a tailored suit, exuding charisma and authority.
Ryan.
CEO of The Art of Life—one of the most celebrated companies in the country. He was a public figure, a legend in the business world, and the unaging enigma that no one could explain.
He hadn't aged a day in centuries.
He never died—because he couldn't.
Still as flawless as ever, Ryan walked forward with purpose. Women admired him, whispered his name behind coffee cups. He was the nation's most desired man, the dream of every girl—and the idol of millions.
---
Elsewhere in the same city, a girl helped an old man push his cart across the road.
Her name was Ealina.
She was like a beam of gentle sunlight—calm, kind, and full of vibrant energy.
Her eyes held warmth. Her smile could disarm storms.
Carrying a tray of coffee and snacks, she entered her modest workplace—an art company that was small but close-knit. She handed the drinks to her colleagues with cheerful greetings, then settled at her desk.
Suddenly, a hand tapped her shoulder.
"Guess who?" said a playful voice.
It was Lyra, her best friend and coworker.
"You're late again," Ealina said, handing her a coffee. "If the manager finds out, you're done for."
Lyra grinned and pinched both of Ealina's cheeks. "Relax, my girlfriend. No one's going to notice. The manager isn't even in yet."
But just then, the manager's voice rang out, stern and sharp.
"Who said that I don't know what my employees do?"
They froze.
Lyra immediately ducked behind Ealina. "Sir, who told you?!"
The manager pointed at someone in the corner.
That someone panicked. "Sir, you promised not to mention my name! You betrayed me!"
The manager just laughed. "Handle her, Aren. And Lyra—don't ever try to be clever again."
He walked away, still chuckling.
Lyra stormed over to Aren, their childhood friend, and locked him in a playful headlock.
"You're dead meat!"
"Ealina! Help!" Aren yelped, trying to escape.
Ealina shook her head. "Lyra, let him go. We're in the office."
Lyra huffed. "He's a traitor! He was ready to get me fired."
Aren freed himself and smirked. "Come on, you know the manager. He likes messing with us."
"Still," Lyra pouted. "You betrayed me."
As their playful bickering escalated, Ealina stepped in. "Enough! Shake hands. Now."
The two exchanged dramatic glares, then reluctantly shook hands.
And then, of course, both turned and hugged Ealina instead.
---
A few minutes later, an employee rushed in.
"Guys! Come quick! Ryan's interview is live!"
Everyone gathered around the office TV. There he was—Ryan, the iconic CEO, speaking with calm confidence. The admiration in the room was thick in the air.
Lyra elbowed Ealina. "Look, it's your man!"
Ealina nudged her back. "Shut up. He's just my inspiration. Nothing more."
Lyra teased, "Yeah yeah, I believe you."
Aren chimed in, "You're obsessed."
Lyra glared. "Hit me again, and see what happens."
Ealina laughed, shaking her head. "You two never stop, do you?"
---
That weekend, an exhibition was held at a prestigious art gallery.
Ryan had been invited as the chief guest.
Ealina was assigned as part of the staff managing the event. She moved between sections, organizing details with quiet efficiency.
When Ryan arrived, people swarmed around him. He moved through the gallery, inspecting the artwork with a critical eye. Occasionally, he made comments—some harsh, dismissing pieces that hadn't impressed him.
Ealina overheard one such critique and frowned. He doesn't understand how much heart goes into creating these pieces, she thought. He judges too easily.
Still, she said nothing and returned to her duties.
Then suddenly—a small boy came running through the crowd, laughing. He was headed straight toward a sharp corner.
Ealina dashed forward, grabbing him just in time.
But in the process, the paint tray she held slipped—and a splash of color landed on someone's suit.
Ryan's.
He froze. His expression turned cold.
"Are you blind?!" he snapped. "Can't you see where you're going?"
Ealina handed the child to his mother and turned to Ryan calmly. "It was unintentional, sir. I was trying to save the child."
He glanced at her ID. "You work here? You don't even know how to treat your guests properly."
"I said I'm sorry," she replied, restraining her tone. "It was an accident."
But Ryan didn't stop. "Maybe you're just another fangirl trying to get my attention."
That was the last straw.
Ealina's voice rose. "Enough, Mr. Ryan! I did what any decent person would've done—I saved a child from getting hurt. I didn't throw paint on you to be noticed. And for your information, I have no interest in you."
She turned and walked away without waiting for a reply.
Ryan stood in stunned silence—watching her, eyes narrowed.
For the first time in years…
Someone hadn't fallen for him.
Someone stood up to him.
And that intrigued him.
Ryan's assistant approached quietly. "Sir, we need to leave."
But Ryan didn't move, Ryan is distracted or lost in thought, too absorbed to respond right away.
His gaze stayed fixed on the spot where she had vanished into the crowd, as if something about her is still pulling his attention.
A strange unease had settled over him.
With narrowed eyes, he said quietly, "I want to know everything about her. Find out who she is."