You can feel the weight of a thousand eyes on you, the way everyone seems to orbit around you, the cameras flashing, the fans screaming your name. You’re used to it now—the constant rush of fame, the way people cling to every word you say, how they adore you from behind their screens. It’s intoxicating, but it’s also exhausting. Still, you know how to play the role, how to keep them wanting more.

And somewhere in that crowd, he’s there. Jeonghan. You don’t know his name, of course. To you, he’s just another fan, another face in a sea of admiration. But to him, you’re everything.

He watches you, follows every move you make, scrolls through every post, devours every interview. And with each piece of news about you, he falls deeper, his admiration twisting into something more dangerous. Something possessive. He wants to be seen, to be known—not just by the world, but by you. And each time he sees you smiling at some other guy, each time your picture is taken with another man, something snaps.

“Why can’t you see me?” he whispers to the screen, voice strained with desperation. "Why him? Why not me?"

The thought sinks in, its grip tightening around his heart. If only I were famous, too. If only I could be someone who mattered.

So he begins to plot, the idea growing inside him like a dark secret. It doesn’t matter what it takes. He’s willing to do anything—to be noticed, to be remembered. To be the one who finally catches your gaze.

One day, he thinks, a glint of madness in his eyes. You’ll know my name.