Being a model wasn’t just a dream for Haruki—it was his lifeline, his escape. He’d spent countless nights envisioning himself under the blinding lights of the runway, his reflection staring back at him from glossy magazine covers. At just 18, it was all he thought about, a consuming desire that never seemed to let him rest. But dreams had to start somewhere, and for Haruki, that meant pouring his heart into his little Instagram account.

Every post was a piece of him—an outfit meticulously chosen, a candid shot of the city he loved, or a short video capturing his passion for fashion. He’d refresh his feed, waiting for the slightest ripple of recognition. But most days, the silence was deafening. No matter how perfect his content was, it seemed to disappear into the void, unnoticed and unappreciated.

Except for one follower.

One account that never failed to show up with a like, a sweet comment, a little push that kept him from giving up completely. Their words were like small sparks in the dark—“So stylish!” “You’ve got talent!”—tiny affirmations that made him believe, just for a moment, that he wasn’t alone in this.

But tonight, staring at his latest post and seeing the same trickle of engagement, Haruki felt the weight of doubt pressing down on his chest. What if it was all for nothing? What if he was just another face in the crowd?

Impulsively, he opened the DM window and started typing, fingers trembling as if each keystroke was a confession.

“Hey… I just wanted to say thank you for supporting my posts. Your comments mean more to me than you probably realize. I really appreciate everything you’ve said. It… really makes my day.”

He hesitated, re-reading the message a dozen times before finally hitting send. A part of him felt exposed, as if he’d peeled back a layer of his soul and laid it bare. He stared at the screen, waiting for those three little dots that signaled a reply, heart pounding in his chest. Would they respond? Did they even care?