Chapter 40 The Last Page #2
The edges of the cover were worn, soft from years of handling. He remembered the night he’d opened it for the first time, flipping through pages of his life laid out with such care. He’d seen the photos, the clippings, the milestones—but it had been too much. Too raw. He hadn’t made it to the end.
But now, Sydney’s words echoed in his mind.
Did you even flip to the last page?
Wynter sat down slowly, the chair creaking beneath him. His hands hovered over the scrapbook for a moment, trembling slightly, before he opened it.
The first page greeted him with a photo of himself at fifteen, braces still on his teeth, a medal around his neck. He’d seen it before, but this time, the caption beneath it caught his eye: Wynter’s first medal. The beginning of everything.
He turned the pages more slowly now, his chest tightening with each memory. His first senior win, his first sponsorship, candid shots of him laughing with Cahya and Soleh. Each page felt heavier than the last.
Finally, he reached the end.
The last page was blank, except for a folded piece of paper taped to the center. His breath caught in his throat as he carefully peeled it free, unfolding it with trembling hands.
Her handwriting was familiar—slightly messy, the lines slanting upward as if she’d written it in one long, unbroken thought.
Wynter’s vision blurred as the words sank in. His chest tightened, and a lump formed in his throat, but he didn’t fight it. The weight of what he’d just read, of what it meant, pressed down on him like the air had been stolen from the room.
She had loved him all along. Through every win, every loss, every moment in between. She had seen him—not just the skater, not just the boy chasing dreams, but him.
And he had been too blind, too stubborn, too afraid to see it.
The tears came suddenly, hot and silent, streaking down his cheeks as he stared at the letter. His hands shook as he set it down carefully, his heart pounding in his chest.
He loved her.
The realization hit him like a wave, overwhelming and undeniable. He loved her now, maybe always had, and he’d let his own pride and fear get in the way of seeing it.
Wynter wiped his face roughly, standing with new determination. He grabbed his phone, dialing the number he knew by heart.
“Bae,” he said as soon as she answered.
“What’s up, frostbite?” she replied, her usual teasing tone making him roll his eyes.
“I need your help,” he said quickly. “It’s about Yesoh.”
There was a pause on the other end before she said, “You’re finally pulling your head out of your ass?”
“Something like that,” he muttered.
“I’m in,” she said without hesitation. “What’s the plan?”
That evening, Bae and Beck sat at Wynter’s kitchen table, surrounded by poster boards, glitter pens, markers, and tape.
“This is such a middle school move,” Bae said, grinning as she uncapped a hot pink marker. “But honestly? I’m here for it.”
“You’re here for the glitter,” Beck said dryly, shaking her head as she sketched out block letters on a poster board.
Bae didn’t deny it, sprinkling gold glitter over the words YESOH IS THE LEAD in loopy script. “I just think if we’re going to embarrass ourselves, we might as well go all out.”
Wynter sat across from them, carefully coloring in the letters on his own poster. He had barely spoken, his focus entirely on the task at hand.
“So,” Beck said after a moment, glancing up. “What’s the plan after this? You just wave these around and hope she forgives you?”
Wynter looked up, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know if she’ll forgive me. But I have to try. She deserves that much.”
Bae set down her glitter pen, leaning forward. “And what are you going to say? You can’t just show up with a sparkly poster and expect her to fall into your arms, Wyn.”
“I’ll tell her the truth,” he said simply. “That I was wrong. That I was stupid. That I love her.”
“My big brother is in love.” Bae dabbed at her eyes. “With a real life girl, this can’t be true.”
“Meh, I knew it.” Beck cleared her throat, glancing away.
The room went quiet for a moment, Bae and Beck exchanging a glance before nodding.
“Okay,” Bae said, picking up her pen again. “Let’s make these posters legendary so you can marry the love of your life and have obnoxiously overly talented babies.”
Wynter smiled faintly, the first real smile he’d felt in weeks. For the first time, he felt like he was moving forward, like he was doing something that mattered. Something for the only person that mattered.
This time, he wouldn’t run.
YESOH’s POV
The stage felt infinite, stretching out under the hot glow of the lights.
I could hear the faint anticipation from the audience, the rustle of programs, and the occasional cough cutting through the quiet.
But none of it reached me, no not really.
I stood behind the curtain, hidden in the shadows, clutching the soft fabric of my costume.
My heart pounded, loud and steady, the rhythm syncing with the music waiting to bloom into life.
This was the greatest moment of my career.
This was my moment. The culmination of everything; the rehearsals that left my muscles aching, the sacrifices that stole my breath, the dream I had chased since I was a child.
But now that I was here, standing in the wings with The Rite of Spring poised to begin, I felt the weight of it all pressing against my chest. This performance wasn’t just for me; it was for everyone who had stood by me, believed in me, pushed me forward when I wanted to fall.
It was for my mother, my friends, my father, everyone who had whispered “you can do this” when I wasn’t sure I could.
The world disappeared the moment the spotlight hit me. The audience, the judges, even the stage itself faded into a blur. It was just me and the music, weaving together in a language only my body could speak.
The opening notes of the orchestra were soft, almost tender, and my movements reflected the quiet reverence of spring’s first bloom. My arms extended with care, my steps delicate but deliberate. Each motion felt like a prayer, a thank you to the season for its warmth after winter’s hold.
The music swelled, and so did I. My leaps became higher, my turns sharper, my body bending and arching with a fierceness that echoed the wild unpredictability of nature. The fabric of my costume fluttered with every movement, catching the light like petals scattered by the wind.
Every emotion I had carried with me—the heartbreak, the doubts, the fear—poured into my performance. I wasn’t just dancing, I was unraveling myself, baring my soul for the audience to see.
Somewhere between a pirouette and a leap, I caught sight of them, my family and friends, scattered in the audience like anchors in the sea of strangers.
My mother sat near the front, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her face stoic but her eyes shimmering with unspoken pride. My father sat beside her, his usual reserve replaced with a quiet intensity as he leaned forward in his seat.
Sydney was next to him, her expression wide-eyed and radiant, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Jax and Cahya sat a few rows back, Cahya whispering something to Soleh, who looked like he might burst out of his seat at any moment.
Beck and Remi were there too, their grins so wide I could spot them even through the haze of the lights.
Hold on—Beck was here? That shook me to my core. Last I saw the Kwons, they were telling me to stay away and now Beck was here at the biggest moment of my career. Cheering me on.
Seeing them grounded me, their presence filling me with a sense of safety I hadn’t known I needed. They were here. They had always been here.
The music rose to a fever pitch, a cacophony of strings and percussion that sent my heart racing. My body mirrored the intensity, each movement sharper and faster, a reflection of the chaos and beauty of spring’s transformation. Soleh clapped; he looked so proud. They all did.
My final leap was higher than I had ever pushed myself before. Time seemed to suspend as I soared through the air, my arms outstretched, the world holding its breath. When I landed, the music stopped abruptly, the silence that followed more deafening than the applause that erupted moments later.
I stood frozen for a moment, my chest heaving, my body trembling with exhaustion and exhilaration. The audience was on their feet, the sound of their cheers washing over me like a wave.
The applause thundered around me, but the sound felt distant, like it belonged to someone else’s world.
My chest rose and fell in rhythm with my labored breaths, my legs trembling under the weight of exhaustion and triumph.
I bowed deeply, the fabric of my costume brushing the stage, and lifted my gaze to the audience one last time.
When the applause finally began to fade, I stepped off the stage and into the wings. The moment my feet touched the floor, Sydney was there, throwing her arms around me in a hug so fierce it nearly knocked me off balance.
“You were amazing,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “You were perfect.”
Jax was next, lifting me into the air like I weighed nothing. “I told you!” he exclaimed. “I told you you’d crush it!”
Cahya approached more slowly, his usual smirk tempered into something softer. “Not bad, superstar,” he said, pulling me into a quick hug. “Not bad at all.”
Soleh followed, tugging at my sleeve. “You were so cool, Yesoh!” he said, his eyes wide. “Mind you I’ll never admit that ever again.”
“You, Soleh Yeo, think I’m cool? I’m honored.” I laughed.
“Yeah yeah I don’t let it get to your head, but I want you to know that I’m so proud to call you my big sister.” He smiled.