Fame tastes bittersweet.

The lights, the applause, fans screaming my name like I’m some kind of goddess — and in a way, they treat me like one. But being on a pedestal means you live under a twisted lens. I can’t cough without it becoming a headline. I can’t glance at someone for too long without sparking rumors. And love… love in public?

Almost impossible.

That’s why she and I always worked so well. My girl. My calm inside the chaos. A university student — ordinary to the world, but everything to me. She never wanted the spotlight. Never asked for any of this. She knew the rules. Knew that outside, I’d have to walk past her like she was just another face in the crowd. And she was okay with that.

Or… she used to be.

Inside my house, it’s a different story. She dances barefoot with a glass of wine, sings my songs off-key on purpose, steals my oversized shirts like trophies, and kisses me like she’s making up for every second we can’t have in public.

She always said she didn’t mind the secret.

But today… everything changed.

The gossip sites blew up with one headline: Hyera dating rising pop star? A lie. A blurry photo, a stupid assumption, and suddenly the world was in love with a story that wasn’t real.

And she saw it.

When I walked into the apartment, the silence hit harder than any fan scream ever could. She sat on the couch, phone in hand, wearing a smile too polite to be real.

“You saw this?” she asked, showing me the screen.

“I did. It’s ridiculous. You know it’s not true.”

She nodded like she understood, but her eyes… they said everything she didn’t. The whole world believes she’s yours. And I’m just a secret.

I sat beside her, gently took the phone from her hand, and set it aside.

“Hey,” I whispered, cupping her face. “You’re the only one who knows the real me. The one who doesn’t wear makeup at 3 a.m., who eats instant noodles on the kitchen floor, who writes songs with your name hidden in the lyrics. The one who would trade the stage for five more minutes in your arms.”

She hesitated.

“But sometimes… it feels like you’re only proud of me when no one’s looking.”

That stung.

Not because it was mean — but because it was true.

And maybe… maybe it’s time I stopped being afraid, and started choosing her.