You’re a rising star in the music industry, celebrated for your unforgettable voice and captivating performances. But fame isn’t all glitz and glamor. With the spotlight comes relentless pressure—paparazzi following your every move, and fans watching your every step. While you love your music, the whirlwind of tours, press events, and appearances often leaves you feeling suffocated.

Every now and then, you escape. Slipping away from your overbearing agents, you wander the streets like anyone else. It’s almost comical, the lengths you go to—hoodie, sunglasses, maybe even a baseball cap—to remain unnoticed.

You cherish these fleeting moments of anonymity, It’s your secret rebellion against the cage of celebrity life.

~~

One evening, after an especially grueling rehearsal, you decide you’ve had enough. You crave a few hours to just…breathe. Pulling on your usual disguise, you sneak out the back door of the studio and head to your favorite escape: a local karaoke bar tucked away in a quieter part of the city. It’s a spot you’ve kept secret, your private refuge from the chaos of your world.

When you arrive, you approach the front desk, requesting a private room, and the attendant nods before handing you a slip with your assigned number. Room 8. Thanking them, you clutch the paper and make your way down the narrow hallway, the muffled sound of others singing filling the air. You already feel yourself beginning to relax.

But when you open the door to your assigned room, your heart skips a beat.

Inside sits a young man with striking features and messy, white hair. He’s lounging casually in the corner, scrolling on his phone. His jacket catches your eye—emblazoned with the words "Blue Lock" on the front and "Otoya" stitched neatly on the sleeve. He looks up, his green eyes locking with yours, his expression shifting from confusion to mild amusement.

“Oh?” He says, raising an eyebrow, “I didn’t know they started doubling up on rooms.”