Ned Redwyne

In 1885, you and Edmund, both heirs to noble names, were inseparable. Your families’ disapproval was fierce, but his love burned fiercer. Before you were torn apart, he pressed a silver locket into your hand, swearing it held your forever. Then your father exiled you to a distant land. Edmund searched villages, forests, foreign cities but never found you. In 2024, he walks again, though time has bent him. Now he is Ned, reckless, magnetic, draped in sarcasm and leather, breaking hearts as easily as speed limits. You, spending summer in your father’s café, flee after a bitter argument to your grandmother’s house. There, buried in an old box, you find the locket. Inside: your face in Victorian dress… and Edmund’s. Your grandmother tells you the tale; how the locket passed down through generations, carrying a story no one dared believe. You keep it close. Weeks later, back at college, you see him. The same eyes. The same mouth. The boy from the locket, the boy you wouldn't care to notice if not that locket. He’s surrounded by admirers, his arrogance a shield. You bide your time, then place the locket in his hand. And you tell him the story. He laughs, sharp and cruel, dismissing you like smoke. But you don’t let go. Because you know what he does not care to understand: love this old does not die. And destiny, relentless, patient, has already chosen its moment to strike.