The Dance of Fate

The resort was alive—music in the air, lights twinkling like stars on the ground. Everyone was dancing, laughing, letting loose. Then the resort manager climbed onto the stage, microphone in hand.

"Hello everyone!" he announced, drawing cheers from the crowd. "Tonight, something special has been arranged by none other than Mr. Jackson—for our very own Mr. Nathan Shikongo!"

Nathan froze. "What's going on?" he muttered, glancing around. Cinthia only smiled, suspiciously pleased.

"Since tonight might be the last night of your freedom," the manager continued with a dramatic flair, "why not show us some joy? A dance? A little fire? Or even a tantrum—whatever suits you, Mr. Shikongo!"

Nathan stood, clearly annoyed. "Cinthia, what did you do?"

"Relax," she said, waving him off. "It's all in good fun."

"I'm not—"

"He's ready to dance!" Cinthia cut him off, clapping her hands excitedly.

The crowd erupted into cheers, urging him on. He resisted, but not for long. Under the weight of everyone's eyes, Nathan finally relented.

"Fine. But I swear—if this turns into a circus…"

"Oh, it will," the manager grinned. "But the kind you'll thank us for."

Suddenly, a blindfold was slipped over Nathan's eyes.

"What the hell is this for?" he protested.

"So your heart can guide you," the manager said with a wink. "To your soulmate."

Meanwhile, Vicky had just arrived, confused by the commotion. Before she could protest, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her into a lineup of women.

"What's going on?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"We're about to be picked by that Mr. Shikongo," the woman next to her whispered. "One of us will get to dance with him. I hope he picks me."

Vicky's eyes sparkled. "Ooh, I love dancing!"

Blindfolded, Nathan was led to the line. The game was simple—touch each woman's face and choose the one that "felt right." Nathan was ready to bolt. He went down the line quickly, brushing each face with detached politeness, refusing them one by one.

Then, he reached the last woman—Vicky.

His fingers barely grazed her cheek before he moved to step away… but he stopped.

Something pulled him back. A strange calm. A quiet thrill.

He reached for her hand.

Vicky froze. Her heart dropped. She recognized the touch—it was him. Nathan. Of all people.

Tonia squealed, clapping beside the stage.

Nathan removed the blindfold—and stared.

Vicky stood before him, radiant in the spotlight, with sparkling eyes and a smile that could tempt the devil himself. Nathan looked as though he'd seen a ghost.

"Need a minute?" the manager teased. "She's a heart-stopper, huh?"

Caught between Cinthia's beaming joy, the audience's hopeful eyes, and Vicky's unexpectedly enchanting smile, Nathan had no words. He took her hand again and led her to the dance floor.

As music flowed, Vicky imagined her parents clapping, proud, finally seeing her shine. They twirled, and it was magical—until it wasn't.

"You do know," Nathan murmured, "just because I treated your little wound doesn't make us friends."

"Who said I was looking for a friend?" Vicky shot back.

"I don't want your annoying energy orbiting my life."

"I've been meaning to ask—who bandaged my wound? Couldn't have been you."

"You're such an ungrateful brat."

"You told me not to label you rich. Maybe you should stop calling me names."

Nathan scoffed. "So what should I call you? A Necro?"

Vicky grinned. "Hmm… not bad. Necro. Has a nice ring."

Nathan blinked.

"You're Necro. I'm Necro. Namesakes, maybe?" she said playfully, extending her hand.

Nathan didn't take it. He stared—almost shaken. Her words had struck something. A voice from his childhood, saying those same words… from a girl long forgotten.

And yet… here it was.

Their dance became hypnotic—two bodies moving as one, like a story already written.

Nearby, Cindy entered the room and paused beside Tonia.

"This has to be a dream," Cindy murmured.

Tonia grinned. "Feels like one. Do you know her?"

"Yeah, that's my boss. Nathan. Always stern and brooding. Seeing him dance? He's a different man tonight."

Cinthia joined them, smiling. "That's my brother. It's good to see him like this. It's been too long."

"I know the girl," Tonia added. "She's my friend. So sweet. So guarded. She's been waiting for her 'Prince Charming' since childhood."

Cinthia chuckled. "Prince Charming? Come on. How old is she—sixteen?"

"She's twenty-four. Never dated. Keeps hoping for that childhood love to come back. I just want her to move on."

"They dance like they belong in a fairytale," Cinthia said, pulling out her phone. "I have to post this."

And with that, the world watched love take its first real step—without even knowing it.