The Luna Who Loved Twice

She didn't know how long she had been crying.

Regina lay curled up in bed, her pillow damp, her eyes puffy and stinging. She reached blindly for the Walkman, her fingers fumbling with the cassette tape.

She didn't even remember putting Sunflower on it.

Maybe her grandfather did. Maybe it had always been there.

But as the opening chords started to play, something strange happened.

The room tilted. Her stomach turned.

The sound warped like it was underwater—

And suddenly everything went black.

When she opened her eyes again, it was September.

But not just any September. 2024.

She blinked in disbelief, sitting in the exact same lecture hall where she'd first met Connor.

He was a few rows ahead of her, slouching in his seat with one headphone in, doodling nonsense in the margins of his notebook.

Just like he used to.

Her heart thudded in her chest. This… wasn't a dream. It was real.

She tried to avoid him at first. Sat farther back in class.

Took different routes home. Laughed a little too loudly at Julian' jokes.

She told herself: Don't fall again. You know how it ends.

But Connor didn't make it easy.

He still cracked stupid jokes that made her laugh.

Still offered her a piece of his gum without asking.

Still looked at her like she was the only person in the room when she talked.

The same warm glances. The same lazy grin.

And every time he called her "Rayray" instead of "Regina,"

It chipped away at the wall she was trying so hard to build.

She was falling. Again.

Even when she told herself not to.

Even though she knew how much it would hurt.

Then, one night, she sat in bed with the Walkman again.

Out of instinct. Out of weakness. Out of something she couldn't name.

She pressed play.

And just like that--The world flickered.

The room blurred. And she was back. To 2025.

Back in her tiny apartment.

Back in the cold silence.

Back in the ache she couldn't shake.

She stared at the ceiling for a long time.

The tears didn't come this time. Only a question:

"If I could control when I go… Could I also control who I love?"

Was heartache avoidable? Or was it the price of feeling something real?

She didn't know. But now she knew the past wasn't out of reach. And maybe—just maybe—neither was her future.