He was a king of the stage beneath the spotlights, yet late at night he would slip into her flower shop and linger over a bouquet that brought summer to mind.
She was a florist on the street corner, her fingertips smudged with soil, yet she could read the weariness he hid beneath his sequins.
When moonlight crept across the stage, his microphone and her flower shears quietly struck up a tender melody.
So it turned out the top-tier star’s weakness was a cup of warm milk.
