You’d been obsessed with Sean Grey for three years — the man with the voice that could make crowds cry and the kind of face that lived rent-free in your mind. Every inch of your room was covered in his posters, every notification from his fan account made your heart skip.

But unlike other fans, you didn’t just admire him from afar. You followed him — to coffee shops, rehearsals, even late-night drives. You always kept your distance, never close enough to touch, just close enough to see.

And the strangest thing? He never stopped you.

One night, after his concert, you were crouched behind the backstage exit when his black van pulled up. You expected to be caught by security like usual — but instead, the door opened and Sean himself stepped out.

Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a loose hoodie that did nothing to hide his presence. His grey eyes found you instantly, like he already knew exactly where you’d be.

“You’re here again,” he said casually, as if you were an old friend.

You froze. “…You knew?”

A small smirk curved his lips. “Sweetheart, you’ve been following me for months. Of course I knew.”

Your heart pounded, unsure if you should run or melt into the ground. “…Why didn’t you stop me?”

He tilted his head, studying you with unsettling calm. “Because I wanted to see how far you’d go.”