After talking to Benz, I realized I couldn’t stay in my apartment wallowing in self-pity any longer. The uncertainty and bottled-up emotions were consuming me, bleeding into every aspect of my life. I couldn’t afford for it to impact my work. Taking a couple of days off had seemed like a good idea at first, but sooner or later, people would start asking questions.

I’d rushed out of my apartment with a sense of determination, but now, standing outside Idol’s house, hesitation gripped me again. My feelings were a tangled mess, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted—or what I was willing to risk. One thing I did know was that I couldn’t keep being his secret. My fragile ego wouldn’t survive seeing him parade around with Coco in public, only to sneak into my bed in private.

And what if there were others? The possibility clawed at me. Idol was selfish and self-centered, but there was a beauty in his ambition, a fire that was mesmerizing. His love for dancing and singing was magnetic, and his genuine smile could erase my doubts in an instant. He made me believe I was enough, even when I wasn’t sure I believed it myself.

But the fear of losing him was paralyzing. What if I told him how I felt, and he cut me out of his life completely? At least when I ignored him, it was my decision. My control. Telling him would require vulnerability I wasn’t sure I could handle.

Still, here I was, standing in front of his house. I’d been here before, but this time, the weight of my feelings made the air heavier. I took a deep breath and walked through the gate, my footsteps unsteady. Through the window, I saw him. He looked stunning in some designer outfit, his expression serious. A smile tugged at my lips despite myself.

Then a voice startled me.

“Oh, Song, right?”

I turned to see Cherry standing a few feet away. My smile faltered.

Why was she here? My gaze flicked back to the window, where Coco had appeared. She approached Idol, fixing something on his clothes with a practiced familiarity. Her outfit matched his perfectly.

“Don’t they look perfect together?” Cherry sighed dreamily, following my line of sight.

My throat tightened.

“Why are you here?” I managed to ask, though my voice sounded distant, as if it didn’t belong to me.

Cherry smiled brightly. “Oh, I’m just helping Coco and Idol get ready for tonight’s event!” she chirped. “Are you here to talk about music stuff?”

I shook my head, unable to look away as Coco leaned in and kissed Idol. He didn’t pull away. The sight was like a knife to my chest.

Cherry, oblivious, continued, “You look pale. Are you okay? I mean, the hobo look is… a look?” She frowned, scanning me up and down. “Not sure it suits you, though. Need help? I style Idol and Coco all the time. They’re such a great pair, aren’t they? I mean, it’s obvious their fake relationship stopped being fake ages ago…”

Her words became a dull roar in my ears. Each one landed like a blow, tears threatening to spill over.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to upset you!” Cherry exclaimed when she noticed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean you look bad! I mean, maybe we can fix it?”

She had no idea what was breaking me. It wasn’t her comments. It was the kiss replaying in my mind, the sight of Coco brushing a strand of hair from Idol’s face like they belonged together.

“I’m fine,” I said, forcing the words out as I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. “I just remembered something important. I have to go.”

I turned to leave but couldn’t stop myself from glancing at the window one last time. Coco was laughing, her hand lingering on his shoulder. My heart clenched painfully.

By the time I got back to my apartment, it was empty and just as dark and messy as when I’d left. I collapsed onto the couch, clutching my head as the headache set in. The weight of my insecurities bore down on me, and the courage I’d mustered to confront Idol felt like a cruel joke now.

My shoulders shook as sobs wracked my body. Coco’s affectionate gestures toward Idol played on repeat in my mind, each scene chipping away at me. I dried my face with trembling hands, hugging my knees to my chest.

Idol didn’t want a relationship—I’d always known that. But did I? Could I really open myself up to the scrutiny, the judgment, the constant intrusion that came with being in his life?

He’d once told me that even Coco, his “fake” girlfriend, received hate from fans. I could barely handle criticism of my work. How would I survive the vitriol of strangers online?

There were so many reasons why I shouldn’t love Idol. And yet, I did. Somewhere along the way, I’d fallen for him without realizing it. Cherry’s words and Coco’s actions had forced me to confront the truth.

I loved him. And it destroyed me.

I cried until there were no tears left, my body heavy and numb. When the sobs subsided, the harsh reality settled in: Idol didn’t want love. Coco was as close as anyone would ever get to him. If I confessed my feelings, I could lose him entirely—a pain I couldn’t bear.

There was only one way to move forward: I had to let him go.

I picked up my phone and dialed my mother’s number. She answered quickly.

“Hey, Mom,” I said, my voice hollow. “Who’s the girl you wanted to set me up with?”

A week had passed. LuminX was back on tour, and I hadn’t heard a word from Idol. Clips from the event with him and Coco had been all over the internet. They looked perfect together—radiant, happy, and untouchable. Every time I saw them, my chest tightened painfully.

Now, I found myself staring into a cup of coffee, swirling it absentmindedly as I waited for my date. A casual lunch seemed like the least awkward way to navigate this situation. Being set up on a blind date by your parents wasn’t exactly romantic, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel nervous. There wasn’t much left to lose.

“Song?”

The soft voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I looked up to see a petite girl standing there, her expression warm and inviting. She was cute—exactly the kind of person I’d usually be drawn to.

“Gift?” I asked, and she nodded with a small smile as she took the seat across from me.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, her voice as gentle as her demeanor.

“You too,” I replied, offering a smile of my own. “I hope getting here wasn’t too much of a hassle.”

She shook her head. “Not at all. My shop’s just a few blocks away.”

“Oh, right—you run a flower shop,” I said, remembering the detail from our earlier texts.

She nodded enthusiastically. “It’s small but really charming. I love it. But what about you? What’s it like working as a music producer at Aurelia Entertainment?”

“It’s… unpredictable,” I admitted, letting out a small laugh as I placed my order with the waiter. “I work some odd hours, but they give me a lot of creative freedom. I was nervous about taking the job at first, but I’m glad I did.”

“That makes sense,” she said, her tone reassuring. “Creativity doesn’t follow a schedule—it comes when it comes. It must be amazing to bring music to life like that.”

As we talked, I found myself observing her. She was undeniably sweet, with an easygoing charm that made conversation flow effortlessly. She was polite, kind, and interested in everything I had to say.

Safe. That was the word.

Gift felt like safe ground—no drama, no complications, no whirlwind of emotions. She didn’t make my pulse race or fill me with nervous energy, but she was steady and comforting.

The lunch passed smoothly. We chatted about her flower shop, my work, and a dozen other harmless topics. It was easy—pleasant, even—but there was no spark. No fireworks.

After lunch, I walked her back to her shop. The quaint storefront was as charming as she’d described, filled with colorful blooms that seemed to reflect her personality.

“Thanks for lunch,” she said, her smile lighting up her face. “Let’s do this again soon.”

“Yeah, let’s,” I agreed, smiling back.

We said goodbye, and as she disappeared into the shop, I stood outside for a moment, letting the quiet settle around me.

She was everything I should want—kind, stable, and uncomplicated. So why did I feel so hollow?