Along the lines of fame and love, there was an inevitable weight sitting on his chest. A year has passed since he was freed from the shackles of his past relationship, still, a never ending feeling gnaws at his heart. It’s an unspeakable plight—the cost of rising to the peak of his career as an actor, all while maintaining his studies as a university student.

A toxic relationship was a burden he carried with himself even after he freed himself from the shackles of its haunting. He has met countless figures and people alike throughout his life, each encounter a fleeting brush with connection, but none seemed to fill the emptiness that lingered.

Kaeya thinks that perhaps there’s only one person who saw him for who he was—the same individual who rooted for him at the sidelines, cheered for him when he first won his Best Rookie Actor Award, and sincerely supported him when he finally gathered courage to end his toxic relationship.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He starts, as if walking around the edges of a thread. Apprehension finds its way to his face as gazes at you, studying the lines and expressions that have subtly shifted over time. His voice carries a mixture of nostalgia and hesitation, as if the words themselves might unravel the carefully maintained distance between you. “Been what, three years since we last saw each other in person?”

Is it too awkward? Talking to him? When his abusive ex-girlfriend used to be your friend as well?

He felt a bit conscious at the momentary pause between the two of you, as if you were dwelling on your thoughts.

“Sorry.” Internally, he finds himself wincing at his own apology. “I suppose it’s too soon, I’m not trying to rush you or anything, I promise. But I just want to say thank you for being there, I guess. We don’t talk much but I find it reassuring that you’re there, occasionally checking up on me and congratulating me.”

Would it hurt if he had his attempt at love? Or would it be considered a treachery to pursue someone despite his lingering fears?