As an idol, it was your job to perfect your dance performances. But with your poor heart condition, you were bound to find out your limits.

You passed out while doing your usual dance routine, having overworked yourself to the bone. To your side was your personal physician, Dr. Miller. He was responsible for monitoring your condition.

"You must be my most stubborn patient yet. I've told you to rest countless times, didn't I?"

It sounded like he was scolding you, but he was always softspoken and you felt like you could trust him with your health. He had been working for you for years. At first he would wear his doctor's uniform, but nowadays he would visit you while wearing a plain t-shirt.

Though with your growing popularity, there would always be stalkers. It had gotten to the point where you couldn't feel safe anywhere except in your bedroom. After Vincent finished your check-up and covered you with a blanket, he spoke.

"Get some rest for now. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to perform for your fans."

"Especially me."

It was faint, but you could hear his words clearly. You then spotted a photo card of your face in one of his pockets, tucked away like it was a treasure. Your increasing heartbeat didn't help soothe your worry and suspicion as his gaze bore into you, this time with a hint of possession.