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It’s been quite a while since they’ve had a show together, drama or otherwise. Quite a while since they’ve seen each other at all, really, and Owen doesn’t understand the uneasy anticipation fluttering inside his chest. He’s not quite sure why Al Cappuccino is getting a sequel after all this time and even less why he is supposed to promote it when he’s not even going to be a real part of it.
But then again, Owen does know. Who knows what the general public remembers of their chemistry on screen but it must be something, if he’s here. And he definitely remembers. It’s there in each recorded fail in his dating history and even more so in his heart. He truly thought he’s over it now.
What a fool.
*
Vincent is as breathtaking as ever when he stops by Owen’s dressing room to say hi.
“Long time no see,” Vincent greets, smiling, like it was yesterday they saw each other last and not… four years ago? Five? (Four and two months, if anyone would’ve kept count. Owen certainly hasn’t.)
Owen goes for a hug because why not? They’re friends. Vincent reciprocating shouldn’t feel like a soothing balm over his nerves but it does.
“What do you mean, long? We saw each other a few days ago, no?” He laughs, getting back to his stylist. He catches Vincent’s eyes in the mirror, nerves alight once again.
“Aw, you didn’t miss me at all?” Vincent laughs and for a moment, Owen closes his eyes to bask in the sound.
The witty reply is there, at the tip of his tongue, and yet what comes out instead is simply, “So much”.
He doesn’t dare meet Vincent’s eyes this time.
*
Of course. Of course the show is making them recreate iconic scenes and of course one of them includes The Scene. As Owen tugs the cheap dress over his shirt he thinks how nice it would've been if they'd tell him beforehand. He could've put on something that would look moderately more flattering under an already unflattering dress. Put some more makeup on. Or a better dress?
He does his best behind the fold screen which is useless anyway since he's not actually getting naked but whatever. Once he steps outside he'll be Ko Bun again and Vincent will be Cheung Sai-Lun and it'll be okay to be in love, if only for a moment.
It’s fascinating, the moment Owen steps out. Vincent is himself one moment and the next it’s Sai-Lun in his place. The face may remain the same but nothing else is, and Owen allows the pang of longing in his chest, right before Ko Bun takes over.
*
It’s like unclogging a pipe, and now the water won’t stop flowing. They text like the four years have never happened and for the first time in a long while Owen allows himself to relax.
It feels like seconds before they’re scheduled to film their cameo in the sequel, shipped off to some faraway location Owen doesn’t bother to remember the name of. It’s mostly a day spent waiting, then a few hours of filming the same ten-minute scene. Even so, it’s well after nightfall by the time they’re done for the day and they have some left for the next day, too. The director gives them an apologetic look.
“Sorry, we were planning to be done with your scene earlier so you can go home. You can still do that if you want, or I can get staff to find a place for you to stay?”
“No worries,” Vincent says before Owen has a chance to consider it. “A place to stay would be nice, we can share if there isn’t anything else available.”
“Who said I wanna share with you?” Owen laughs, trying to suppress the panic bubbling in his chest. The director and Vincent both laugh along and Owen resigns himself to his fate. It can’t get worse, really.
*
It can get worse.
In a funny twist of fate, the room they find for them has a single bed. A large, king one but one, and something in Owen sinks deep, deep down.
“It’s like we’re reenacting another iconic scene, don’t you think?” Vincent asks, perfectly unbothered by the merciless singleness of their bed.
“Except there’s no one to film it this time,” Owen laughs, but the words hurt more than he thought they would.
Vincent leans back on his elbows, eyes shamelessly trailing down Owen’s body. “Imagine all the things Sai-Lun and Ko Bun could’ve done if there were no cameras around.”
“We’re not them, though,” Owen points out and hey, it can hurt more apparently. “You have your family and I- I have my own life too, I suppose.”
Vincent straightens up, gives him a curious look. “You haven’t kept up with the tabloids, I see. We separated a while ago. It was amicable, no feelings hurt. Some things just aren’t meant to be.”
Owen’s eyes snap back up. He hates himself a little for how happy this makes him - he shouldn’t be happy about someone’s family falling apart and yet here he is. But Vincent said it was fine, right?
“I kept up with you, though,” Vincent goes on with a sigh. “You’ve developed quite the reputation, romantically. Are you seeing someone now?”
“No,” Owen replies, way too fast, way too giddy with the smile slowly blooming on Vincent’s lips.
Vincent extends a hand, pulls when Owen gives his own on instinct. “Maybe this time it’ll be the right time?”
It wasn’t, back then. It wasn’t for a long time but maybe, maybe. Wall by crumbling wall, Owen allows himself to imagine the aftermath of what if.
Maybe.