Julian ran his fingers over the fabric of the high-performance running gear, admiring the craftsmanship. Every stitch, every detail—he scrutinized them all as he tried on different sizes. The sales representative, eager to please a VIP++ member, provided detailed explanations, listing every available variation with a practiced enthusiasm.
"I'll take fourteen sets of these," Julian decided, nodding toward the ultra-lightweight compression suits. "And for shoes… three pairs for sunny weather, two for rain. Make sure they’re delivered to my place."
The sales rep barely concealed his excitement at the hefty order. "Absolutely, sir. We’ll have them packed and shipped today. Expect them by tomorrow morning."
Julian confirmed his payment, quickly entering his address into the system. This was more than just a shopping spree—it was an investment. In himself. In his new life. Half-measures were no longer an option. If he was going to do this, he would do it right.
With everything finalized, he stepped through the sleek VIP lounge door, inhaling the crisp evening air with a sense of satisfaction. But his brief moment of triumph was shattered by a familiar voice.
"Julian?"
His body tensed before he even turned around.
Just a few steps away, Camille stood frozen, her gaze locked onto him. Beside her, as always, was Serena—her best friend and his former officemate. The last people he wanted to see.
Julian blinked in mild disbelief. Of all the people, of all the places, why now?
Camille’s arms folded across her chest. "What are you doing here?"
Before he could even open his mouth, Serena scoffed, her eyes flicking toward the VIP entrance he had just walked out of.
"Wait a minute..." Her brows furrowed as if trying to process what she was seeing. Then, realization dawned, followed by blatant disbelief. "You came from there?"
Julian remained silent, his hand still resting on the door handle.
Serena let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Oh, come on. Stop joking, Julian. We all know you’re not the sporty type. What, did you get lost? Or were you just admiring the mannequins?" Her tone dripped with amusement, her smirk widening as she nudged Camille with a knowing glance.
Julian clenched his jaw. He had expected this reaction. Back when they worked together, he had never shown interest in anything remotely athletic. He was the guy who groaned at the mention of exercise, who dismissed the idea of working out as a waste of time.
But that was before.
Ignoring Serena completely, he shifted his gaze to Camille.
For a fleeting moment, time slowed. His mind battled itself—this was the perfect chance to finally ask. To demand the truth about their breakup. To make her answer the questions she had been dodging for so long.
But before he could even form the words, Camille exhaled sharply, already looking impatient.
"Don’t bother asking," she said flatly, her voice void of warmth.
The weight of those words hit Julian harder than he expected.
She knew.
She knew he wanted answers.
And she had shut him down before he could even try.
He exhaled through his nose, shaking off the frustration that gnawed at his chest. He had promised himself he wouldn’t let the past control him. And yet, here he was, still affected by her indifference.
Just as he turned to leave, a voice—breathless yet composed—called out behind him.
"Sir! Sir, please wait!"
Julian pivoted, finding the previous sales representative hurrying toward him. Though slightly out of breath, the man maintained his professional composure.
"Yes?" Julian asked, arching a brow.
The employee straightened his posture, smoothing out his blazer before extending a sleek device. "Sir, you forgot your phone."
Julian blinked, then let out a sheepish chuckle as he scratched the back of his head. "Oh, wow. My bad. I’m still getting used to all this VIP treatment." He took the phone, slipping it into his pocket.
The sales representative smiled politely before holding out a small, elegant card. Unlike an ordinary business card, this one gleamed under the light—crafted from matte black material with embossed golden lettering that shimmered subtly.
"This is our exclusive VIP++ calling card, sir," the man continued smoothly. "Should you require any assistance or wish to place an order, simply contact us. We are already familiar with your sizes and preferences, and we can arrange deliveries at your convenience. Rest assured, we do not send unnecessary promotional messages. You will only be notified when new premium products arrive."
His tone was impeccable—refined, formal, exuding the air of a luxury brand concierge rather than a typical retail employee.
Julian hesitated for a second before taking the card. "Uh… right. Thanks for that."
As he pocketed it, he noticed Serena and Camille’s reactions.
Serena scoffed, arms crossed tightly. "Oh, come on. Who is this guy? An actor you hired to impress us? Seriously, Julian, this is just pathetic."
Julian barely reacted, already knowing there was no point in arguing. Instead, he slid the phone into his pocket, gave them a nonchalant shrug, and turned away.
Serena clicked her tongue in irritation, grabbing Camille’s arm. "Let’s go. I’ve seen enough."
Camille, however, didn’t move. Her gaze lingered on Julian, then drifted to the impeccably dressed sales representative, then back to the VIP lounge behind him.
Something didn’t add up.
The way the store employees carried themselves—so polished, so elite. The way their eyes subtly followed Julian, their postures betraying an unusual level of respect. Even now, through the glass doors, Camille could see more staff members inside. They weren’t just looking in Julian’s direction—they were almost bowing whenever they spoke of him.
This wasn’t some elaborate joke.
Something had changed about Julian.
And that unsettling realization followed Camille as she walked away, her mind now tangled with doubts she couldn’t shake.