Chapter 10: The World Starts Watching
The meeting between Hana Haze and Selen Astar becomes one of the most discussed events in the world before the day is half over. What began as a handful of recordings from Apex University is now spreading across international news networks, social platforms, livestream channels, and private discussion groups. The footage is no longer limited to Hana's arrival or her reunion with Soren. People are replaying the moment Selen approaches them, the first exchange between the two women, and the handshake that follows.
The images are brief. The interpretations are endless.
For many people, the story is not simply that Hana Haze has returned to the public eye. It is that she went directly to Soren Su, and Selen Astar was standing there when she did. The Living Fire has reunited with an old friend. The Ice Goddess has met her. And the world has watched.
The Bugatti is parked at the kerb outside the main gate, its engine off and windows dark. I have not moved since the doors of the lecture building closed behind my brother.
Across the courtyard, the Haze convoy is pulling away, three black cars moving in a line. Hana is already inside the middle one. She lifted a hand to me through the glass, not quite a wave, and I did not return it. I wasn't sure what it would mean if I did.
I have been thinking about the handshake for the last six minutes. Her fingers were warm. I noticed that before I noticed anything else, and I am annoyed that I did.
My phone lights up on the dashboard. Min-jun.
"Speak."
"Miss Astar. The footage of your meeting has passed two hundred million views across platforms. International networks are running it as a lead story. Three have requested statements."
"Decline them."
"Yes, ma'am. There is also a significant volume of commentary, most of it comparing you and Miss Haze."
"Comparing us in what respect?"
A short pause follows.
"In every respect, ma'am."
I watch a pair of students cross the courtyard with their phones held out in front of them like torches. One of them points at my car before quickly lowering her hand. They have already decided what happened between Hana and me. They have given it a name and a side. I have never exchanged more than two sentences with her in six years, yet strangers on four continents are explaining what we feel.
"Do not issue a statement. Do not confirm or correct anything. If a publication makes a claim about my brother, send legal. Everything else stays untouched."
"Understood. Shall I increase the team at Apex?"
"Keep it where it is. Doubling it would be noticed."
I rest my hand on the wheel.
"He is not to be approached by anyone he hasn't met. Not by journalists, not by students with cameras. If it becomes necessary, the university will be asked to intervene."
"Yes, Miss Astar."
I end the call and look at the doors again. Somewhere behind them, he is sitting in a lecture hall with a notebook open, unaware that a woman across the courtyard has just spent six minutes deciding whether to follow him inside.
I turn the key. The engine whispers to life.
I do not follow him. I drive away at the pace I always do, and the cameras follow the car until the road takes it.
In New York, one of the largest news networks interrupts its scheduled programming for a special discussion.
Enormous screens behind the anchors display still photographs from Apex. One shows Hana stepping out of her convoy. Another captures her expression changing; currently she recognizes Soren. A third shows Selen extending her hand and Hana accepting it.
The female anchor looks directly into the camera.
"Today, the meeting between Hana Haze and Selen Astar at Apex University has become a major international story. The two women have rarely appeared together in public, and their connection to the same university student has raised questions around the world."
The screen changes to a photograph of Soren.
The second anchor leans forward. "His name is Soren Su. Until recently, very few people outside his immediate circle knew anything about him. Now he is at the centre of a story involving two of the most influential young women on Earth."
An analyst seated beside them nods.
"We should be careful not to turn a personal reunion into a political or corporate announcement. We have seen a meeting and a handshake. We haven't heard either woman describe what it means."
"That's true," the anchor replies, "but the public interest is already enormous."
Behind them, clips from the campus continue appearing: the crowd falling quiet as Selen approaches, and Soren speaking to both women without realizing how many cameras are pointed at him.
Online, the footage moves faster than any network can explain. Hashtags climb across platforms, fan pages translate posts into a dozen languages, and commentators slow the handshake down frame by frame to argue about whether the women looked comfortable.
# WhoIsSorenSu. #LivingFireReturns. # IceAndFire. #ApexUniversity. #TheMeeting.
Some fans are simply glad the meeting was respectful. Others want to believe the women might become friends. But the rival communities are already treating every detail as evidence for their preferred story.
The combined reach of Selen's and Hana's audiences stretches into the billions. Not every follower is watching, and not every viewer joins the argument, but by the time the morning ends, the story has reached countries far beyond either family's home.
At Apex, the consequences are immediate.
The university was not prepared for the attention. Students fill the cafeterias, gardens, and corridors, replaying recordings from different angles. Some were present when Hana arrived, while others saw the videos online and are now trying to identify the locations shown in them.
In one lecture hall, a professor pauses before beginning class. Several students still have their phones out beneath their desks.
"Put them away, please," he says.
A few obey. Others take another moment to finish watching a clip. The professor waits.
"I understand something unusual happened on campus this morning. But you are here for a lecture. Let us try to remember that."
The room quietens, though the attention doesn't disappear.
Near the engineering building, a group of students gathers around a phone. The video shows Hana stepping out of her car and looking across the courtyard. The moment she sees Soren, her expression changes.
"She didn't even look at anyone else," one student says.
"She came to see him," another replies.
"Everyone knows that. The question is why."
Nobody has an answer.
A little way off, another group is watching the footage of Selen. The camera catches her stepping out of the vehicle and standing beside Soren. Even through a recording, her composure is unmistakable.
"She barely looked at the crowd," a girl says.
"She didn't need to," her friend answers.
A third student scrolls to the next clip, where the two women shake hands.
"And somehow they both looked completely calm."
That starts another argument. Some students prefer Selen's reserved authority, while others admire Hana's warmth and ease with people. A few refuse to choose at all.
The debate moves from the steps to the cafeteria, then into group chats that include students who weren't even on campus. The administration begins receiving calls from journalists and requests for comment. Staff are instructed not to share private student information or speculate about the relationships involved. Security adjusts its positions around the main buildings, keeping the entrances usable without turning the campus into a spectacle.
Apex is still a university. It is simply becoming difficult for anyone to behave as though nothing has happened.
I take my seat in the third row, put my notebook on the desk, and tell myself the morning is over.
It isn't.
People look at me as I sit, and not the way they looked on Friday, curious and a little amused. Today, their attention feels sharper. A boy two rows down turns his phone face-down when I glance at him. A girl in front of me leans over to whisper to her friend, and the friend's head swivels around so quickly that I look at my notebook instead.
"Soren."
I lift my head. Linh has taken the seat beside me, her bag resting on her knees. Her voice is pitched so low that it barely reaches me.
"Are you all right?"
"I think so."
"Hana Haze walked across the courtyard to talk to you." She says it carefully, as though she isn't sure whether the words might break something. "And your sister was there. I saw it. Everyone saw it."
"She's an old friend."
"I believe you."
She looks at me for a moment longer than necessary.
"I wasn't going to ask."
"Thank you."
"But you should know your phone will be terrible." She pulls out her notebook and opens it to a clean page. "If you want my advice, I'd turn it off."
"I haven't looked at it."
"Good. Don't."
The professor enters, and the room settles. I haven't made many friends at Apex, but as the lecture begins, I realize that I am glad she is beside me.
I take notes for forty minutes. The topic is the unreliable narrator, and the professor argues that every narrator is unreliable to some degree because nobody can describe an event without choosing what to leave out.
I underline that line twice.
When he asks a question about the first-person voice, he looks directly at me and then, as if reconsidering, turns towards someone else.
I answer anyway. My voice comes out steadier than I expect.
During the break, I take out my phone because I can't help it. The screen is crowded. Messages from numbers I don't recognize sit between university announcements and ordinary reminders. Several notifications show my own name with a hashtag in front of it. There are links, tags, and missed calls from people I haven't spoken to in years.
I stare at the screen for a long moment.
A student passing in the aisle glances at me and quickly looks away. I lock the phone. I don't feel famous. Furthermore, I feel watched, and the difference bothers me more than the notifications do.
Under the desk, the phone buzzes once more.
The message is from Hana.
Meeting with my mother's people until three. Don't read the comments. I mean it.
I almost laugh, and then I don't.
Not only that, but I type, Too late.
A second later, another message arrives.
Then stop reading the comments.
I put the phone in my pocket and return to my notes.
I haven't given an interview, made a statement, or done anything but go to university, meet an old friend, and introduce her to someone important to me. Likewise, I can't understand why a simple morning has turned into something strangers seem entitled to examine.
The reaction among the wealthy and influential is of a different kind.
In a private boardroom overlooking London, several business leaders watch the footage without speaking. They are not interested in the fan arguments or the edits circulating online. They are studying the people involved and the possible consequences of their connection.
An elderly businessman finally leans back in his chair.
"I've seen senior officials wait months for a meeting with Selen Astar."
Nobody at the table disagrees.
Another executive looks at the photograph of Soren standing beside her.
"Yet she personally drives him to university."
"And Hana Haze travelled to see him," someone else adds.
The room goes quiet.
They understand the influence carried by the Astar and Haze names. They also understand the difference between a public appearance arranged for business and a personal visit with no obvious commercial purpose.
One of the executives closes the footage.
"We should not assume this means the families are forming an alliance. But we should understand why people are asking questions."
No one suggests otherwise.
The meeting has produced no announcement, no agreement, and no public declaration. Still, the fact that both women have appeared around the same young man is enough to attract attention from people accustomed to looking beneath the surface of events.
In Tokyo, the chairman of a multinational technology corporation requests a background report.
His assistants have already begun preparing one by the time he enters the room. A tablet is placed in front of him, displaying the information they have gathered about Soren Su.
The chairman reads in silence.
"That's all?"
"We have found very little beyond what is already circulating publicly."
"Family, education, previous records?"
"Some details, but nothing that explains the level of interest."
He looks up.
"Then separate what we know from what people are assuming. I want facts, not theories built from a video."
The assistant nods.
The lack of public information does not prove that Soren is hiding anything, but it leaves a gap, and interested people are already trying to fill it.
The chairman sets the tablet down.
"Continue checking what is publicly available. Do not approach the university or the student."
"Yes, sir."
Thousands of kilometers away, inside a government intelligence office, a team of analysts reviews the same footage.
A large screen displays still images from Apex. One official folds his arms.
"This has become an international story."
"It's being discussed in several regions," an analyst replies. "The attention is growing, but much of the commentary is speculation."
"What do we know about the student?"
"Not enough to support the claims circulating online."
The official studies the screen.
"Then don't turn speculation into an assessment. Keep the public reporting separate from anything we can verify."
The analyst makes a note.
Governments are used to receiving information about influential families, but the sudden interest in a university student with an almost nonexistent public profile has produced a question nobody in the room can answer with confidence.
For now, they watch the public reaction.
In the Vance family headquarters, Lucien Vance watches the footage alone.
The elderly patriarch sits in a dim room while the screen lights his face. Several recordings have been arranged in sequence: Hana's arrival, Soren recognizing her, Selen approaching, and the handshake between the two women.
He watches the last clip again, but his attention stays on Soren.
Not Selen. Not Hana.
Soren.
The available information is limited, and early automated analyses are inconsistent. A few systems have produced confident predictions from small amounts of footage. Lucien dismisses them. A person's future cannot be calculated from a handful of expressions and gestures, and he has seen too many confident systems fail to trust one that has only a few seconds of video to work with.
He leans back.
"Keep watching what becomes public," he says. "I want to know if anything verifiable emerges. No unnecessary contact."
The room stays silent.
Lucien looks once more at the image of the young man standing between the two women.
"Interesting."
The screen continues to play.
Inside the headquarters of several other major families, similar conversations are taking place. Executives ask their assistants to collect public reports. Heirs share the clips with one another. Political advisers discuss the media attention, and corporate leaders consider whether the meeting might eventually have consequences for their own networks.
Some are curious about Selen and Hana. Others are interested in the families behind them. But a growing number want to understand the young man who connects the two stories.
Who is Soren Su?
Why does Selen Astar appear so personally involved in his daily life?
Why has Hana Haze crossed the distance to see him?
And why is there so little reliable information about him?
The questions multiply faster than the answers.
By late afternoon, the campus has grown quieter.
I find a place beneath a large tree overlooking the university lake. The branches move gently in the breeze, and the water shifts with the light. Students cross the nearby paths in small groups, and somewhere behind me, someone laughs.
I open my book.
For a few minutes, I manage to forget the cameras and the whispers. Then my phone vibrates against the grass. I look at the screen without opening the notification, turn it face-down beside me, and return to the page.
I want an ordinary afternoon. Likewise, I want to read without wondering who might be watching. I would like to speak to Hana without seeing her name turned into a headline and spend time with Selen without strangers deciding what every small gesture means.
This morning, beneath the steps, she straightened the strap of my bag with two fingers before I could say anything. By now, somebody has slowed that moment down too.
I look across the lake.
The water is calm.
The world beyond it is not.
While Soren sits beneath a tree, billions of people have the chance to encounter the story of the meeting. Newsrooms keep reporting it, fan communities keep debating it, and powerful families keep separating what is known from what is only suspected.
Some people see the beginning of a rivalry. Others see the possibility of a friendship. Some see a connection between two influential houses.
Very few consider that, to the three people involved, it was simply a meeting between people who matter to one another.
The first ripples have spread, and beyond the university, people with influence have begun to pay attention.
Soren has done nothing to invite it.
But the world has started watching.