There were many things Zoey had learned to deal with as an idol.
Sleep deprivation? Easy.
Twenty-hour schedules? Used to it.
Being recognized while wearing sunglasses, a mask, a hoodie, and another pair of sunglasses over the first pair? Embarrassing, but manageable.
Being chased by screaming fans because someone spotted three strands of purple hair escaping from beneath her cap? Occupational hazard.
And there were things she understood perfectly.
Music.
People.
Demons.
And, apparently, how to recognize when something was very, very wrong with her.
Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those things.
For the past few days, she had felt like there was a tiny, invisible creature living somewhere beneath her ribs, scratching at the inside of her chest whenever she tried to ignore it. It wasn't pain. It wasn't fear. It wasn't even anxiety.
It was simply... there. And it was annoying the hell out of her.
Zoey stared at the lyrics sheet in front of her for what had to be the tenth time.
The same four lines. The same four words she'd written herself. Nothing had changed.
Except her brain had apparently decided that reading the lyrics was an excellent opportunity to think about a certain deep magenta-haired—no.
She stopped herself. A certain boy. A boy she'd met in an alley. A boy she'd saved from demons. A boy who had somehow fought those demons alongside her.
A boy whose face she'd seen for barely a few seconds before she'd been forced to wipe his memory. A boy who, as it turned out, was
Abby.
One of the Saja Boys.
The golden rookie. The ridiculously handsome rookie. The ridiculously attractive rookie. Zoey groaned and dropped her forehead onto the table.
"You're doing it again."
She lifted her head. Mira stood on the other side of the table, staring at her.
"Doing what?"
"That."
Zoey blinked. "That's extremely specific."
"You're spacing out."
"I'm thinking."
"About?"
"Life."
Mira narrowed her eyes.
"Life has been looking suspiciously muscular lately."
Zoey's jaw dropped.
"I do not know what you're talking about."
"You've been staring at that same lyric sheet for five minutes."
"Maybe it's a very interesting lyric sheet."
"It's upside down."
Zoey slowly looked down. The paper was, indeed, upside down. She immediately flipped it over. "Artistic perspective."
Mira snorted.
Across the room, Rumi had been quietly watching them. She finally looked up from her phone. "Zoey."
"Hm?"
"Are you sick?"
Zoey stared at her.
"Wow."
"What?"
"That's your diagnosis?"
Rumi shrugged. "You've been acting weird."
"I'm always weird."
"Not this weird."
"That's actually hurtful." Mira laughed. Zoey crossed her arms and sank back into the chair. "I'm fine." She said it brightly. Too brightly. Because the truth was, she wasn't. Not completely. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that alley again. The blood. The demons. The stranger kneeling on the ground.
And then—
His face. That stupidly charismatic face. Those eyes that had looked at her with genuine concern when he'd asked if she was hurt.
The way he'd carried on fighting despite already being injured. The way he'd looked at her as though he'd been trying to figure out who she was. And then the strangest part. She had known his face. She had known his name. But she hadn't known him. Now she did. Or at least, she thought she did.
Abby. Saja Boys' main dancer. Lead rapper.
The man who could apparently make half the internet collectively forget how breathing worked. And somehow, Zoey had met him before any of that. Before the fame. Before the stage. Before the cameras. Before he became their rival.
She had met him in the dark and something about that encounter refused to stay buried.
"Zoey?" She blinked. Rumi was looking at her again. "You disappeared."
Zoey forced a smile. "Sorry. Just tired."
Rumi's expression softened immediately. "You've been pushing yourself too hard."
Mira nodded. "She's right."
"Great. Two against one."
"Three against one," Rumi corrected. Zoey pointed at her.
"Traitor."
Rumi smiled. "Go sleep tonight."
"I will."
"And don't sneak out." Zoey gasped dramatically. "Why would I ever do that?" Mira and Rumi exchanged a look. Zoey's smile faltered.
"...Okay, fair." The three of them laughed. For a moment, everything felt normal. Almost.
Because while Zoey laughed with them, a single thought remained lodged stubbornly at the back of her mind.
Why did meeting Abby feel less like meeting someone new... and more like remembering someone she'd forgotten?
Night had a different sound when Seoul was asleep. It was never truly silent.
Somewhere beyond the tall windows of the dorm, a car would pass along the distant road, its tires whispering against the asphalt before disappearing into the city. The occasional horn drifted up from the streets below. An air conditioner hummed softly in the corner, filling the room with a steady, almost comforting rhythm.
Rumi lay awake beneath the sheets, staring at the ceiling.
The room was dark except for the faint silver glow spilling through the curtains from the city outside. It painted pale strips of light across the floor, catching the edge of her nightstand, the glass of water she'd forgotten to drink, the stack of books she'd promised herself she'd finish. Everything was where it belonged. Her room was familiar. Safe and quiet.
And yet she couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her. She turned onto her side. Closed her eyes. Opened them again.
"Sleep, Rumi." She whispered the words to herself. It sounded ridiculous. Like she was giving herself instructions. She pulled the blanket higher and tried again.
One minute passed.
Then another. Her eyes remained stubbornly open. She sighed and reached for her phone.
2:08 a.m. Of course. She had an early schedule tomorrow. There was rehearsal. Vocal practice. A meeting. Another rehearsal because apparently one rehearsal was never enough. And somewhere between all of that, she was expected to remain a functioning human being.
Rumi placed her phone face-down. She closed her eyes again. This time, sleep came.
And with it—The dream.
She was standing somewhere she couldn't recognize. There was no sky. No ground. No walls. Only darkness stretching endlessly in every direction.
Rumi looked around.
"Hello?" Her voice disappeared into the emptiness. She took a step. Then another. Something moved in the distance. A figure. A woman.
Rumi stopped breathing.
"Mom?"
The figure didn't turn. Rumi took another step.
"Mom!"
Still nothing. She started walking faster. The darkness seemed to stretch with every step she took, keeping the distance between them exactly the same. Then the woman spoke. Her voice was faint. So faint that Rumi almost thought she'd imagined it.
"Rumi..."
Her heart lurched.
"Mom?"
The woman turned slightly. Rumi couldn't see her face. There was always something between them—mist, darkness, blinding light. Something. Anything. Anything that kept her from seeing her mother's eyes.
Rumi ran toward her.
"Wait!"
The woman raised a hand. Her lips moved. She was saying something. Rumi slowed.
"What?"
The words were swallowed by a sudden rush of wind. "What are you saying?"
The wind grew louder. Rumi covered her ears.
"Mom!" The woman said something again. One word. Maybe two. Rumi couldn't understand. "Please!"
She reached forward. "Say it again!" The darkness behind her shifted.
Rumi froze. Something was there. She could feel it. Something enormous. Something breathing.
She slowly turned around. Nothing.
When she looked back, her mother was gone.
Silence. Then, somewhere behind her—
A whisper.
"Run."
Rumi woke with a gasp.
She shot upright, one hand pressed against her chest. For several seconds, she couldn't remember where she was. The darkness felt unfamiliar. The ceiling looked wrong. Her breathing came fast and shallow. Then reality slowly returned. Her room. Her bed. Her curtains. The faint city lights.
She swallowed.
"Just a dream."
The words barely came out. She wiped the cold sweat from her forehead and pushed her hair away from her face. It was the same dream. Again. Only this time, it had felt different. Closer. Clearer.
As if she'd almost understood what her mother had been trying to tell her.
Rumi looked toward the clock.
2:17 a.m.
She stared at the numbers. Seven minutes. She'd only been asleep for seven minutes.
"You're kidding me." She let herself fall backward onto the pillow. Sleep was officially cancelled. She stared at the ceiling for a while longer, listening to the quiet hum of the room. Her mother had been appearing in her dreams for years.
At first, Rumi had thought it was simply because she missed her. Perhaps that was all nightmares were sometimes—a heart remembering things the mind tried to bury.
But lately... Something had changed. The dreams were becoming more vivid. The voice was getting clearer. And every time Rumi woke, she was left with the unbearable certainty that her mother hadn't been trying to frighten her. She had been trying to warn her. Rumi turned onto her side. She pulled the blanket around herself.
"No more thinking." She closed her eyes. A few seconds passed. She opened them again.
"Nope." She sat up. There was no way she was sleeping now. Maybe a glass of water would help. Or something sweet. Preferably something with enough sugar to make her forget that she'd just been psychologically attacked by her own subconscious.
Rumi slipped out of bed and pulled on a hoodie. She opened her bedroom door as quietly as possible. The hallway beyond was dark. She stepped out.
The dorm was unusually still. Mira's door was closed and so was Zoey's.
Rumi smiled faintly. For once, Zoey hadn't stayed awake until three in the morning watching something she absolutely didn't need to watch. She started toward the kitchen.
Then stopped.
A voice drifted through the hallway. Mira. Rumi frowned. She looked toward Mira's bedroom. The voice came again. Low. Tense.
"...No. NO!" Rumi's smile disappeared. She hadn't meant to listen. She really hadn't. But something in Mira's voice made her stop.
She remained where she was, caught between walking away and making sure her friend was okay. Then Mira spoke again. "I said I'm fine."
A pause.
"No. I'm not coming."
Rumi lowered her gaze. She should leave. This was private. She knew that. So why couldn't her feet move? Mira's voice grew quieter.
"I can't keep having the same conversation with you."
Silence.
Then—
"You don't get to disappear for years and suddenly decide you want to be my father."
Rumi's heart sank. She took one small step backward. The floor creaked. Silence fell inside the room. Rumi's eyes widened.
Oh, crap!
The doorknob turned. She looked toward the kitchen. Then back at the door. Too late. The door opened. Mira stood there. Her phone was still in her hand. Their eyes met.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Rumi gave her a tiny, guilty smile.
"Um, Hey."
Mira stared.
"...Were you listening?" Rumi's smile grew more nervous.
"No."
Mira glanced pointedly at the hallway. "You were standing outside my door."
"I was passing by."
"At two in the morning?"
Rumi hesitated.
"I enjoy nighttime walks."
Mira raised an eyebrow.
"In the dorm?" Rumi sighed. "Okay. That sounded better in my head."
For the first time, the tension in Mira's face cracked.
A tiny laugh escaped her. Rumi smiled. There. That was better. But Mira's smile disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared. She looked down at her phone.
"It was my dad."
Rumi nodded. "I figured."
Mira leaned against the doorframe. "He called again." Rumi didn't ask why. She didn't need to. Some things could be understood without being explained. Instead, she walked toward the living room. Mira followed.
They sat together on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, surrounded by the quiet darkness of the dorm. For a while, neither of them spoke. And somehow, that silence said more than either of them could have. Eventually, Mira exhaled.
"He always calls when I've finally stopped thinking about him."
Rumi turned toward her. Mira stared at her hands.
"I don't know whether I hate him for leaving or hate myself for still caring."
Rumi's expression softened. "You don't have to choose." Mira looked at her.
"You can be angry and still love someone." Rumi gave her a small smile.
"People are complicated." Mira let out a quiet laugh.
"Coming from you, that's almost profound."
"Almost?"
"Don't push it." Rumi smiled. Her eyes wandered toward the kitchen. Then back to Mira and then toward the kitchen again.
"Who's up for ice cream?"
Mira blinked at her. "Seriously?"
"What?" Rumi shrugged. "It's two in the morning. I'm emotionally vulnerable." Mira let out a quiet laugh and shook her head.
"Chocolate." Rumi's eyes lit up.
"Perfect."
P.S - Author's Note ♡
Hey everyone! It's me again. 🥹❤️
First of all... I'M BACK!
And yes, I know. I disappeared.
Like—actually disappeared.
No warning. No proper goodbye. Just vanished into the void like one of my characters after creating unnecessary problems. 😭
I owe every single one of you an apology for that.
Life got incredibly busy with university—admissions, classes, assignments, adjusting to student life, trying to keep up with everything, and honestly just figuring out how to balance life outside of writing. It became so hectic that, somewhere along the way, I had to put this story on hold even though I never really stopped thinking about it.
And believe me, I missed writing this story terribly. I missed these characters. I missed their chaos. I missed plotting things at completely unreasonable hours.
And most importantly, I missed you guys.
So, to everyone who waited, checked for updates, reread the previous chapters, left comments, or simply wondered whether I'd abandoned the story—
I'm really, really sorry. 🥺
Thank you for being patient with me.
University life has been a lot, but I've finally found some time to come back to the thing I've been yearning to do for so long—write.
And this time, I'm not planning to disappear on you again. I can't promise perfect consistency because, well... student life is student life 😭, but I can promise that I'll do my best to bring you new chapters much more often.
There is SO much waiting for our characters.
So thank you for coming back with me. Thank you for understanding. And most of all, thank you for still being here.
I hope you'll forgive my little but long disappearance and continue this crazy journey with me.
Now...
Where were we? I'm here with a fresh chapter!!! Check it out!
Things were about to get interesting. 😉
With love,
Your very absent-but-finally-back author,
BlueOrca):) 💜