The Little Bun

Five Years Later…

The music downstairs in Earlyson bar pulsed through the walls like a heartbeat.

Upstairs, on the empty top floor corridor, it was almost silent.

Isabella pressed her fingers to her temples. She had been drinking all night with investors, smiling, laughing, pretending she wasn’t exhausted. Her head throbbed, her heels hurt, and all she wanted was five minutes alone.

She had just reached the quiet end of the hallway when she heard the sharp click of heels behind her.

Of course.

“Isabella.”

She didn’t turn immediately. She already knew that voice.

She inhaled slowly before facing her manager. “Yes, Lilian?”

Lilian didn’t waste time. “Did you register for the female lead audition in Land Under Heaven?”

“Yes.” Isabella folded her arms. “And?”

“You’re not going tomorrow.”

Not surprised.

Isabella leaned casually against the wall. “Why?”

“Don’t play innocent. The company has already decided Vanessa is auditioning for it.”

“That doesn’t stop me from auditioning too.”

Lilian’s lips tightened. “You went behind my back.”

\

“No,” Isabella corrected calmly. “I went around you.”

For a second, silence stretched between them.

“The Hartley family invested thirty million in this film,” Lilian continued coldly. “Vanessa isn’t ‘auditioning.’ The role is practically hers.”

Isabella’s gaze sharpened.

“Then why are you worried?” she asked softly. “If it’s already hers, what am I threatening?”

Lilian stepped closer. “You are my artist. You follow my arrangements.”

Isabella let out a short laugh. “Interesting. I thought I was just your disposable background piece.”

“I’m warning you,” Lilian said, her tone dropping. “Don’t force me to handle this differently.”

Before Isabella could respond, something slammed hard into her back.

She stumbled forward.

The next second, she was shoved inside a storage room at the end of the corridor. Her phone was yanked from her hand.

The door shut with a heavy metallic bang.

And the lock clicked.

…

Footsteps faded away.

Isabella didn’t scream.

There was no point.

She slid down slowly against the door, staring at the darkness around her. So this was how far Vanessa was willing to go now.

Petty sabotage.

When she first entered the company, it had been small things, lost auditions, bad roles, whispered rumors. Now it was this.

If she didn’t secure this role, she would have to leave Starlight Entertainment.

She couldn’t keep fighting battles that were rigged from the start.

A faint sound interrupted her thoughts.

Rustling.

Isabella frowned.

“Hello?”

No response.

She squinted into the dim storage room — and froze.

Behind a stack of boxes, in the corner, was a small figure.

A little boy.

Four or five years old.

He looked absurdly out of place here — dressed neatly, pale skin, soft features like porcelain. His dark eyes were wide, alert, cautious.

He wasn’t crying.

He was watching her.

Carefully.

“…Okay,” Isabella muttered under her breath. “This night just keeps getting better.”

She stayed where she was so she wouldn’t scare him.

“Hey,” she said gently. “You lost?”

No answer.

“Did someone lock you in here too?”

Nothing.

The boy didn’t move, but his shoulders were tense.

Isabella studied him more closely. He didn’t look like a staff member’s child. He didn’t look neglected either. His clothes were expensive. Custom-made.

Who brings a child to the bar?

Unless—

Her thoughts paused.

Unless he wasn’t supposed to be here.

She sighed and leaned her head back against the door.

“Relax,” she said softly. “If I was dangerous, I wouldn’t be trapped in here with you.”

Still no response.

A few seconds later, the light bulb above them flickered violently.

Then it went out.

Complete darkness swallowed the room.

Isabella heard it immediately.

Soft. Rapid. Controlled — but still there.

Teeth chattering.

She blinked.

“Seriously?” she murmured.

She could barely see him now, but she could hear his breathing quicken.

“You’re scared of the dark?”

The chattering stopped for a second.

Then resumed — slightly louder.

Isabella couldn’t help it.

She laughed quietly.

“Unbelievable. You look like you’d fire people for a living when you grow up.”

She slowly stood up.

“I’m coming closer,” she warned gently. “Don’t panic.”

Step by step, she moved toward him, careful not to make sudden sounds.

When she was close enough, she crouched down — but kept a small distance.

“You can pretend you’re not scared,” she said lightly. “But your teeth are betraying you.”

Silence.

Then, very slowly, the little bun shifted.

Not away from her.

Closer.

Just a little.

Isabella’s expression softened.

“See?” she murmured. “Darkness isn’t that bad.”

The darkness settled.

The music from downstairs was faint now, like a distant memory.

Isabella leaned her head back against the wall. The exhaustion she had been holding back all night began to creep in. Her body felt heavy. Her eyelids burned.

Across from her, the little bun had stopped trembling as much.

Minutes passed.

Silence wrapped around them.

“You should sleep,” Isabella murmured softly into the dark. “You look like you fight monsters during the day.”

No response.

She let out a quiet breath.

Her head throbbed. The alcohol, the stress, the humiliation — it all blended into one dull ache. She had planned to stay alert in case someone came, but her body had other plans.

Slowly… her thoughts blurred.

Her breathing evened.

And without realizing it, Isabella drifted to sleep.

….

Some time later…

She felt something.

Warm.

Soft.

Small fingers gripping lightly onto the fabric of her dress.

Isabella stirred slightly but didn’t wake fully.

The little bun had shifted closer at some point. In the darkness, he had inched toward the only steady presence in the room.

Now he was curled beside her.

One small hand clutching her sleeve.

As if afraid she might disappear.

….

Outside the storage room—

Footsteps approached.

Unhurried.

Steady.

They stopped directly in front of the door.

A brief pause.

Then a soft exhale.

The man standing there didn’t look like someone who had been joking around downstairs just minutes ago. The faint neon light from the hallway reflected off his sharp features.

His expression was calm.

Too calm.

He reached for the handle.

Locked.

Silence lingered for half a second.

Then—

A very subtle shift in his eyes.

Not anger.

Not panic.

Just calculation.

Julian Sterling straightened slightly and tapped once on the door.

Not loudly.

Just enough.

Inside, Isabella stirred again.

Her brows furrowed.

The little bun’s fingers tightened instinctively around her sleeve.

Another knock.

This time firmer.

Julian didn’t call out.

He simply stepped back and pulled out his phone.

“Open it,” he said quietly to the person on the other end.

Within moments, rushed footsteps echoed down the corridor. A staff member fumbled with keys.

The lock clicked.

The door opened.

Light spilled into the dark room.

Julian’s gaze swept inside… and landed on the small figure curled on the floor.

Julian’s eyes adjusted first.

He expected to see one person.

He saw two.

The little bun blinked against the light.

Isabella remained half-asleep, leaning against the wall, unawareof what was happening.

Julian’s gaze rested on her for a brief moment.

Not long.

His expression changed instantly.

He stepped forward.

He crouched down.

“Oohh… my sweet bun,” he murmured, scooping the little boy gently into his arms. “You were planning to give your father and I a heart attack tonight, weren’t you?”

The little bun blinked at him.

Silent as always.

Julian sighed dramatically. “Do you know I was two seconds away from being disowned because of you?”

A tiny hand instinctively clutched his jacket.

Only then did Julian remember the child wasn’t alone.

His eyes shifted.

A woman sat against the wall, fast asleep. Her head tilted slightly to one side. Strands of hair stuck to her cheek. Her makeup was smudged, her heels kicked off carelessly.

The little bun’s fingers were still hooked into the fabric of her dress.

Julian raised a brow.

“Well,” he muttered softly, “you have interesting taste in friends.”

He carefully peeled the tiny fingers away.

The child resisted.

Julian looked at him.

“…You’re choosing her over me?”

Silence.

He huffed quietly.

“Unbelievable.”

Still, he didn’t wake her.

He studied her for a brief second.

No fear on her face.

No signs she had mistreated the child.

If anything, it looked like the boy had crawled toward her.

Julian straightened.

He adjusted the child securely in his arms.

“Let’s go before your father personally shuts down this entire building.”

The little bun glanced over Julian’s shoulder.

At the sleeping woman.

Long enough for it to mean something.

Then he rested his head against Julian’s chest.

Julian walked out.

The door closed.

And Isabella…

Never knew anyone had come.

…

Downstairs, outside Earlyson…

A black car waited.

Inside sat a man whose patience had been worn thin.

Alexander Sterling did not look like someone who tolerated surprises.

The car door opened.

Julian slid inside casually, holding the little bun.

Alexander’s gaze snapped to the child first.

Scanning.

Checking.

Ensuring.

Only when he confirmed there was no injury did he look at his brother.

“Explain.”

Julian leaned back lazily.

“Relax. He wasn’t kidnapped. He decided to explore the thrilling world of locked storage rooms.”

Alexander’s eyes sharpened.

“Julian.”

“Okay, okay,” Julian lifted a hand. “He wandered off upstairs. The door locked behind him somehow. When I found him, he was sleeping.”

Alexander’s jaw tightened. “Alone?”

Julian paused for half a second.

“No.”

Alexander’s gaze shifted.

“There was a woman in there,” Julian added. “She was asleep too. Looked more trapped than he was.”

Silence filled the car.

Alexander’s expression didn’t change.

“Did she touch him?”

Julian smirked faintly. “You say that like he doesn’t choose who touches him.”

Alexander didn’t respond.

Julian continued, tone lighter, “If anything, he was the one clinging to her. Wouldn’t let go of her dress. Very scandalous behavior for a future heir.”

Still no reaction.

After a moment, Alexander simply said, “Find out who locked that door.”

That was it.

No curiosity about the woman.

No questions about her name.

His son was safe.

Everything else was irrelevant.

The car pulled away into the night.

Back upstairs….

Isabella slowly opened her eyes.

The room was empty.

The door unlocked.

Light seeping in from the corridor.

For a moment, she wondered if she had imagined the little bun entirely.

Until she noticed something small on the floor beside her.

A tiny, expensive-looking cuff button.

Definitely not hers.

She stared at it.

“…What kind of dream was that?”