The months following the gala passed in a blur for Karan Kim. His college schedule was relentless, with practicals, assignments, and tests filling every corner of his days. On top of that, the Kim family restaurant had grown busier than ever — new patrons, reservations piling up, and the constant pressure to innovate kept him on his toes.
He wiped his hands on his apron after plating a delicate dessert and looked around the bustling kitchen. Nova leaned against the counter, sipping a coffee, watching him work.
"You're obsessed," she said, a teasing edge to her tone. "Do you even sleep?"
Karan smiled faintly, focusing on the chocolate glaze he was drizzling. "Sleep is for people who don't have dreams," he replied. "And I have a lot of them."
Lusi, passing by with a tray of appetizers, added, "You sound like your father sometimes. Honestly, Karan, slow down. You're burning out."
"I can't," he muttered, almost to himself. "If I want to be the best… I have to give everything."
Even in the quiet moments, his mind drifted back to that night at the gala — to the **intensity in Arthit's gaze, the sparks, the teasing**, and… the fiancée.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. **He couldn't interfere**. Not with someone like Arthit, entrenched in a world of power, wealth, and calculated steps. And not when Arthit had someone waiting for him.
---
Arthit's World of Power
Meanwhile, Arthit Sakda's life was moving on at a different pace. The gala had been a strategic success, a display of influence and elegance, but it was only a fraction of the responsibilities waiting for him. Business meetings, strategy sessions, and the meticulous planning of his future empire consumed him.
Arshiya, radiant and poised, accompanied him everywhere — from boardrooms to photoshoots, to strategy meetings for **branding their image as the city's future power couple**.
"You understand," Mr. Sakda said one morning in the office, voice firm, "that every step we take now shapes not just the present, but the legacy we leave. Arthit, your fiancée's image, our public appearances — they all reinforce influence and credibility. The world watches, and perception is power."
"Yes, Father," Arthit replied, calm and measured. His mind, however, couldn't help but flicker to Karan — the young chef who had challenged him in ways no business deal ever had. A fleeting thought, a memory of flavor, precision, and sparks that refused to fade.
Arshiya leaned against his shoulder, brushing her hand against his arm. "The photoshoot went perfectly today. The magazines love our cover spread. Everyone sees what we are: strong, untouchable, inevitable."
Arthit nodded, masking the stir of conflict he felt. Karan's image, bright, grounded, alive with passion — it contrasted sharply with the polished perfection of this life. And yet… he couldn't pursue it. He had responsibilities, strategy, and plans that could not be compromised by personal desire.
---
Distance and Decision
Karan's days were long. College, late-night training in culinary techniques, and the restaurant consumed his energy. He occasionally thought of Arthit, the heat of competition still fresh in his memory, the teasing glances, the moments they had shared. But every time, he reminded himself: **this is not his world, and it never will be**.
One evening, after the last customer had left and the restaurant was quiet, he leaned against the counter, exhausted. Nova joined him, offering a mug of tea.
"You've been quiet today," she noted, studying his expression. "Thinking about… him?"
Karan's grip tightened on the mug. "I don't even know where he is now," he admitted softly. "Or… if he's happy. But I saw a picture today — of him and his fiancée. They're… perfect together."
Nova studied him, sensing the undercurrent of longing he refused to acknowledge. "So… what are you going to do?"
He smiled faintly, almost sadly. "I'll focus on my world. My studies. The restaurant. I won't… I won't interfere in their lives. Not even if a part of me wishes I could."
---
Arthit and Arshiya's Public Life
Arthit's life moved forward in sharp, calculated steps. Photoshoots with Arshiya projected **perfection, influence, and success**. They posed in designer suits and gowns, cameras clicking, magazines printing their images, shaping the narrative of a power couple destined for leadership in business and society.
Arshiya looked at him, playful but precise. "Do you ever think about… ordinary life? Just cooking, laughing, enjoying… not everything strategic?"
Arthit's gaze flickered to the window. "I… think about it," he said quietly. "But my path is set. Every choice matters. Every connection, every risk, every decision is part of the bigger plan."
She smiled, taking his hand. "And yet, I see that you're thinking of someone else. I see it when your eyes linger."
Arthit's jaw tightened, just slightly. "Memories fade," he said, almost to himself. "Focus on the present. The future. Our purpose. Nothing more."
---
Karan's Resolve
Back at the restaurant, Karan tasted a new sauce he had been experimenting with for hours. He paused, closing his eyes, savoring the flavor. It was perfect — **a small victory, his own world, his own choice**.
Lusi watched him, smiling. "You're… stubborn," she said. "In a good way. You don't let anyone else define you."
Karan opened his eyes, looking around the bustling kitchen. "I have to… I can't let my heart distract me. My dreams are bigger than any… anyone else. I'll make my mark in my own way."
He thought of Arthit one last time that day — the intensity of his gaze, the sparks that had ignited between them, the magnetic pull he had felt. But he also knew his **priorities were clear**. Career first. Ambition first. Love… perhaps someday, but not now.
---
Sparks Linger
Even with the distance, even with their separate lives, sparks remained. Every time Karan experimented with a new recipe, he imagined how Arthit might critique it — the subtle intensity in his gaze, the teasing remark, the heat of proximity.
And in Arthit's world, between boardroom decisions and brand strategy meetings, **memories of Karan lingered** — the perfect balance of skill and instinct, pride and humility, passion and focus.
They had **chosen different paths**, yet neither had forgotten the night of sparks, the competition, the gala, or the unspoken tension between them.
---
A Choice for the Future
Karan sat at a small table in the quiet kitchen late one night, jotting down ideas for a new fusion dish. He glanced at a photo of his father plating a dish with precision and warmth, then looked around at his bustling kitchen, the life he was building.
He whispered to himself, soft but firm: "This is my life. My dream. My path. I won't let anyone — not even him — distract me."
Somewhere in the city, Arthit stared out over a skyline of steel and glass, imagining **the empire he and Arshiya would build**, the legacy of influence, and the life meticulously crafted. And yet, a shadow of thought lingered — the young chef who had challenged him, stirred him, and refused to be forgotten.
Both of them moved forward, separate, focused, and determined. Yet **the memory of sparks, teasing, and intensity lingered**, hinting that fate might not be finished weaving their paths together.
---
End of Chapter 6 — Choices and Distance