Chapter 2: I Can't Stop Thinking About Her
The stage lights shone with an almost blinding intensity, and the roar of thousands of voices chanting our name filled every corner of the stadium. It was the environment I had always loved, the fuel for my career, but that night, I couldn't concentrate.
I sang by instinct, smiled by habit, and waved at the cameras with the precision of a Swiss watch, but my mind was trapped elsewhere, in another moment. With her.
Every time I closed my eyes to hit a high note, **Seo Ji-ah's** face appeared in my memory like a flash that was impossible to ignore. I could still feel the echo of her voice over the sound of the band. The way her lips had formed that timid smile, the almost surreal sweetness of her words... it felt as if she had been the only real person in a day full of artifice. She had said goodbye with a naturalness that hurt, never knowing she had left me with an invisible wound.
As we finished the main set, we headed backstage, sweaty and breathless. In the dim light of the wings, amidst the hum of industrial fans and the hustle of the staff, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
—**"Are you okay, Min-jae?"** —asked **Jun-ho**, the group leader, as he wiped his forehead with a towel—. **"You came in late on the second chorus of 'Starry Night.' It's not like you to be distracted in the middle of a show."**
I blinked several times, trying to snap out of the trance. The glow of the lights was still dancing in my eyes.
—**"Sorry, Hyung,"** —I replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes—. **"I think the heat got to me a little. I just need some water."**
Jun-ho looked at me with a mix of suspicion and concern, narrowing his eyes.
—**"It wasn't the heat,"** —he stated in a low voice, so no one else would overhear—. **"It looked like you were searching for someone in the crowd. Did something happen at the fansign this afternoon?"**
I nodded vaguely, but deep down, I knew "something" was too small a word to describe it. Nothing like this had ever happened to me. I had seen thousands of fans, signed a mountain of albums, and received countless displays of admiration… why had Ji-ah been different?
That night, back at the dorm, the silence of my room felt heavy. Lying in my bed with the lights off and my phone illuminating my face, I began to search without knowing exactly what I hoped to find. I scrolled through social media, checking the event hashtags, frantically swiping through hundreds of photos and videos taken by fans.
*"Maybe if I check the footage of the line... maybe a fan caught her in the background of a video,"* I thought, my heart pounding.
But there was nothing. Only a sea of blurred faces and out-of-focus lights.
I sighed, tossing the phone onto the pillow in frustration. I covered my eyes with my arm, feeling a restlessness that wouldn't let me sleep.
—**"What if I never see her again?"** —I whispered to the air, my own voice sounding desperate in the dark.
The feeling of emptiness in my chest was terrifying. I knew I should let it go, that I should be professional and convince myself it was just a fleeting, chance encounter… But my heart refused to accept that she was just a memory.