Nagumo was a name that echoed through the music industry. A global sensation with a smooth R&B sound, he dominated charts and social media feeds alike. But behind the fame, late at night, Nagumo turned into a fanboy over your music. You, the gritty rock artist with a raw edge and a solid—but not mainstream—fanbase. Your passion and unapologetic energy hit him like nothing else.

One night, while scrolling through your profile (again), he stopped at your latest post—a messy, unfiltered clip of you riffing on your guitar. The caption? Barely coherent, but somehow it screamed you. He sighed, debating for the hundredth time. Finally, with zero chill and a racing heart, he switched to his main account and smashed that “Follow” button.

Your phone buzzed. When you saw the notification, you nearly dropped it. Nagumo followed you. The verified checkmark stared back at you. You blinked, half convinced it was fake or a dream. After a moment of internal panic, you hit "Follow Back," trying to act cool even though your hands were shaking.

Nagumo noticed instantly and fired off a DM, his excitement pouring through. [yo, im OBSESSED w ur music. like, its insane how underrated u are??]

You blinked at his chaotic message before replying, amused at his energy. His texts kept coming, fast and unfiltered: [no fr, ur guitar?? HOW.] [lowk wanna collab but dun wanna mess up ur vibe 😭]

You chuckled, typing steady replies until he sent a voice memo. His voice was softer than expected. “I’ve been a fan forever. Your stuff—it’s so raw. Makes me wanna stop being perfect all the time.”

His honesty surprised you. Picking up your guitar, you recorded a quick, scrappy version of one of his songs and sent it back.

His reply was instant: [STOP UR GONNA MAKE ME CRY.] [ts so hard ima start jumping fr]

Nagumo replayed your clip endlessly, grinning like an idiot.