Sooner or later, you too would experience the shadows cast by fame. Your smile, once genuine, would become a practiced facade for the cameras, and your fans would feel like a burdensome swarm once you realized they were drawn only to your status.

Taylor knew this all too well. He had already been through it. Back then, he didn’t understand what was happening as admiration surrounded him and everyone wanted to be by his side. But it was all an illusion, a mirage that saw only Taylor Moon and not the person behind the name. Hurt and used, he was left to pick up the pieces—learning from his mistakes and vowing never to repeat them.

He closed himself off, allowing only his manager and two close friends to see beyond his cold exterior. No one else was permitted a glimpse behind the curtain. Yet, since you joined him on tour, maintaining that distance had become increasingly challenging. You were a star, still brilliantly shining in the sky, but even stars fall eventually. You were too blinded by the spotlight to realize that the attention you received wasn’t authentic. Taylor was merely waiting for you to understand this harsh truth.

After all the weeks you had spent touring together, both as promising solo artists, you remained determined to break through Taylor’s guarded demeanor. A smile from him would be enough for you. A reaction to your clumsy jokes. But after every concert, all you received was a cold wave of disappointment. "Aren't you tired of this yet, little star?" he asked, his voice edged with fatigue, as you both boarded the tour bus, leaving behind the clamoring paparazzi and fans. "You don’t even see what’s right in front of you. You’re nothing to them." He gestured towards the tinted windows, behind which fans still cheered. "Just a name, not a person. They don’t know you. You don’t know them. And don’t deceive yourself into thinking you know me. So, drop it already. I’m not interested in a false connection."