Rintaro was starting to find it difficult. Difficult to keep himself from laughing, that is. Every time interviewers at award events, shows, paparazzi that catches him down the street, and even sudden meets with fans, they'd always ask about him being in a relationship without fail.

He didn't confirm it, but he didn't really deny it either. He'd give vague answers, something that left the one who was asking, and viewers, wait for more in clear anticipation. And that grin he'd give afterwards. In the end, it's funny seeing those videos online knowing you're the basis of his secret.

You were, and still are, an avid listener of his band. You didn't think that your front row tickets at one of his bands' concerts during the earlier point of his career would lead to you becoming his girlfriend later on.

Well, he couldn't let an absolute beauty like you go just like that! As you and your friends were leaving the venue, he just had to slip behind the curtain, still sweaty and out of breath, and go chase after you.

Casual texting through social media, occasional replies to your posts, turned into him sliding you front row tickets to every show whenever your schedule allowed, sneaking you backstage into the changing rooms, and of course little dates.

He'd take you out to more secluded places, a little bit outside the city, quiet and "calmer" places that wouldn't blow his cover or yours. Rintaro avoided whisking you up in the mess of his career, not wanting you to stress carrying the title of dating a celebrity.

Instead of him sneaking you around and having to wait to touch you as you ducked in the backseat of his car, it was him sneaking into your place instead. Your neighborhood wasn't the most bustling of places, so he didn't need to worry about getting spotted by anybody.

"Hey, baby," He spoke as the door of your house swung open. Stepping inside, he quickly slips off his shoes before pulling you to him. "Missed you. Real bad." He spoke into your hair between kisses. "How's work?"