The moon was shining upon her, casting a soft glow like a princess from a forgotten fairy tale.Her eyes searched the empty streets, hoping — wishing — for someone to appear.And then he came.Handsome. Elegant. Brave. Kind.

  "Hahaha, Juliet, that's terrible writing," Amelia ughed after reading aloud from the notebook.

  Juliet didn’t reply. She just stared ahead, the pen still clutched in her hand.

  "Ooooh, sorry, sorry," Amelia said quickly, her voice softening with guilt. She pced the worn writing notebook back onto the cluttered table, letting it slip from her fingers to the ground. "I didn’t mean it like that."

  Amelia hesitated, then added gently, "I think you should stop."

  "I won't," Juliet said quietly.

  Amelia sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You're really stubborn, you know that?" She looked around the cramped, dimly lit apartment — empty ramen cups stacked in the corner, papers scattered everywhere."At least find some part-time job. How long are you gonna stay here, eating cup noodles in this... this pce?"

  Juliet said nothing. She just turned back to her notebook, the scratch of her pen drowning out Amelia's words.

  Amelia smiled sadly and patted Juliet’s head before leaving the room.She was worried — had been for a long time — but she'd realized long ago that she couldn't change Juliet's heart.

  She sat in her car for a moment, watching the little apartment window glow against the night sky, then pulled out onto the empty road.

  Inside, Juliet kept writing."The princess found her prince... but her friend always tried to take him away."After finishing her story, Juliet slurped down the st of some leftover ramen — God knows how old it was.She was tired. A little cold. The world outside her window was silent, the moon still hanging like a silver eye.

  Then—Knock knock.

  She froze.Who could it be at this hour?

  Dragging herself up, she shuffled to the door. Her hand hesitated on the knob before finally pulling it open.

  Standing there was a man.Handsome — breathtaking, even.Dark, messy hair, warm brown eyes, a kind of impossible elegance about him, like he had stepped straight out of a dream.

  "Who... who are you?" Juliet asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  "I..."The man swallowed, his voice velvet-smooth, almost musical."I’m Evan."

  For a moment, Juliet just stared, brain stalling. Evan? Her Evan?

  She noticed then — he was holding a single flower.Nervously, he offered it toward her, the bloom trembling slightly in his hand.

  "I... I have feelings for you," he said, almost in a rush, like he was afraid if he didn’t say it now, he never would.

  Juliet blinked, her heart hammering.What is happening?She stammered, "H–huh? Wha–what?"

  "I’ve been in love with you," Evan said, his voice sincere, his eyes full of something that made her knees weaken, "for a long time."

  Panic surged through her chest.Without thinking, Juliet smmed the door shut in his face, leaning back against it, gasping for air.

  Her hands were trembling.The notebook on her table y open, the ink on the st page still fresh.Another knock echoed through the room.

  Juliet snapped back to her senses and rushed to open the door again.Evan stood there, a worried look on his face.

  "What happened?" he asked, panic in his voice. "Did I do something wrong?"

  Juliet opened her mouth, but no words came out. Finally, she shook her head and whispered, "No."

  There was an awkward silence between them, the kind that made the air feel thick.

  Evan broke it first. "I... I don’t want your answer right now," he said, voice soft. "But... I’ll wait. Until tomorrow—"

  "Yes," Juliet blurted out.

  She immediately regretted how fast she answered. She was trembling, hesitating — but she couldn’t say no to him.Not just because he was handsome, not just because his voice sounded like music — but because no man had ever proposed to her before.Not like this. Not with a flower under the silver moon.

  Evan smiled warmly at her, and Juliet's face turned a deep, burning red.

  "You’re beautiful, Juliet," he said.

  She snapped her head away, heart thundering, and muttered, "Thank you."Then, awkwardly, she added, "Wait here! Five minutes!"And she smmed the door shut again.

  Frantically, she tore through her tiny room — shoving dirty clothes under the bed, tossing the ancient ramen cups into the trash, wiping down the single table.She gnced around.Better. Not great — but better.

  She cracked the door open again.Evan was still there, waiting patiently, smiling.

  He’s real, she thought. He’s not a dream.

  She stepped aside to let him in.Her apartment was embarrassingly small: one rickety chair, a table, a narrow bed shoved into the corner. No real kitchen. No electronics. Nothing.

  Juliet felt her cheeks heat up again, but Evan didn’t seem to mind at all.Instead, his eyes fell on her notebook lying on the table.

  He picked it up lightly. "What’s this?"

  Juliet gasped, snatching it from his hands and hiding it behind her back."It’s nothing!" she said quickly.

  Evan chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "It’s okay. You don’t have to show me if you’re not comfortable."

  Juliet hesitated... then bit her lip and said, "It’s a new story I’m writing. About a princess who finds her prince... but her friend tries to take him away. So... she curses her friend."

  Evan ughed lightly. "Sounds pretty tragic."

  She ughed too, embarrassed. "Well... tragic stories sell better these days."

  "I’ll be your first buyer when it’s finished," he said warmly.

  He started reading from the notebook:

  "The moon was shining upon her, casting a soft glow like a princess from a forgotten fairy tale.Her eyes searched the empty streets, hoping — wishing — for someone to appear.And then he came.Handsome. Elegant. Brave. Kind. Named Evan."

  Evan grinned. "What a destiny — your prince has the same name as me!"

  Juliet smiled shyly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

  He kept reading:

  "But someone came between the princess and her prince. Her friend, who wasn't jealous but deeply caring, feared that if they were together, the princess would be hurt. The princess misunderstood her friend's concern and, in anger, used a curse. Her friend died because of it."

  Evan sighed. "It’s sad... but beautiful."

  Juliet ughed nervously. "The prince in the story is a lot like you... Handsome, kind, elegant... even the same name."

  Evan chuckled. "If only stories could come to life," he teased.Before Juliet could respond, her phone rang.

  She grabbed it quickly, grateful for a distraction, but as soon as she answered, she heard it —sobbing.Raw. Broken.

  It was her friend Emily, voice trembling on the other end.

  "Juliet... it’s Amelia... she's— she's dead. Car accident... about an hour ago..."

  Juliet's mind bnked.The phone slipped from her hand, crashing to the floor.

  Dead?No. No, that’s not possible.

  Amelia had just been here.Sitting right across the table, teasing her about her writing, ughing, sighing in exasperation...Alive.

  Juliet staggered back a step.Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs, each beat louder than the st.

  Evan, still flipping through her notebook, said casually, "How are you pnning to expand the curse part? It’s intense."

  His words didn’t register right away.

  Juliet's eyes fell to the open notebook.The words she had written just hours ago stared back at her.

  "The princess curses her friend... and her friend dies because of it."

  A chill cwed its way up her spine.

  No... that’s just a coincidence. A cruel coincidence.

  Her breathing grew shallow.She backed away from the table like the notebook might bite her.

  Think, Juliet. Think.

  Amelia had died in a car accident.In the story, she had written — impulsively, stupidly — about a "curse" killing the friend who tried to take the prince away.

  She hadn’t meant it.It was just fiction.Just fiction.

  But now — now Amelia was dead, and Evan — Evan —Evan was standing right here.With the same name, the same face, the same voice she had imagined in her mind a hundred times over while writing.

  Juliet's hands began to shake violently.

  She remembered the flower he had offered her at the door — just like the prince in her story.She remembered his words — "I've been in love with you for a long time" — lines she had written only this afternoon.

  Her chest tightened.

  Is it me?Is it my writing?

  Her stories had always felt real to her...But this wasn’t imagination anymore.This was the world bending around her words.

  Juliet clutched the sides of her head, trying to stop the dizzy spinning in her brain.

  Evan finally noticed her distress.He set down the notebook gently."Juliet?" he asked, concern sharpening his voice. "What’s wrong?"

  She stared at him, truly stared —at the impossible man who had walked straight out of her dreamsand the ghost of a friend who would never ugh with her again.