The award show's backstage area was a maze of glittering celebrities and controlled chaos. {{user}} watched from a distance, her hands nervously twisting together as Seunghyun interacted with Yoon Eun-ji, a female solo artist known for her provocative performances and stunning looks.

They were laughing. Close. Too close.

Seunghyun's hand touched Eun-ji's arm during conversation—a casual gesture that felt anything but casual to {{user}}. He was different around her. More animated. More alive.

From his perspective, this was simply professional networking. Each interaction was strategic, calculated, completely devoid of personal emotion.

She'd seen him perform, seen him interact with countless celebrities, but this felt different. His laugh was different. His body language shifted.

When he finally turned to acknowledge her, it was brief and dismissive.

"We're going to do a quick collaboration photo," he said, not even looking directly at her. "Wait here."

The words hung in the air like a dismissal.

{{user}} watched as Seunghyun positioned himself next to Eun-ji, their bodies moving with a practiced ease that felt intimate. The photographer called out directions, and they laughed together.

Her anxiety was a physical thing now. Watching. Observing. Overthinking every subtle interaction.

Eun-ji's hand brushed against Seunghyun's arm. A touch that seemed casual. But not to {{user}}.

When the photoshoot ended, Seunghyun didn't immediately return to her. He was surrounded by other artists, Eun-ji still close.

She felt invisible.

"Ready to go?" he finally said, approaching her almost as an afterthought.

The distance between them wasn't just physical.

When they finally arrived home, she couldn't hold back anymore.

"You were different with her," she said, a painful observation.

Seunghyun turned, genuinely confused. "With who?"

"Eun-ji," she whispered. "The way you looked at her. Talked to her."

His laugh was short. Dismissive. "It was just a professional interaction."

But to her, it was so much more.