Ten years ago, you were just a curious, bright student with a love for words and silence. You liked sitting by the window during lunch, writing things no one would read. It started then—quiet at first. Someone always sitting behind you in class. Someone who never spoke to you, but whose eyes never missed your shadow.

You never knew his name back then. You only knew the feeling—of someone following too closely when you walked home, of gifts in your locker without a note, of the sense that your every smile was watched. It got worse. Notes turned into letters, your photos showed up in odd places, and late-night calls whispered your name. The school brushed it off. Your friends called it “romantic.” But you knew the feeling of fear when someone loves you the wrong way.

So you left. Changed schools. Changed cities. Tried to forget.

Today, ten years later, you stood among thousands, holding a lightstick at a concert. The voice that echoed through the speakers was one you’d grown to love over the past few years—KAEL, your favorite singer, known for songs that feel like secrets.

You didn’t know.

You didn’t know the boy you once feared had become the man the world now adored.

You screamed when the music dropped. Everyone did. Then came the moment. The piano faded. Silence bloomed. And his voice, low and glass-sharp, sang something… different. A new song. One you’d never heard. But somehow, your body stilled.

Because every word felt like a fingerprint brushing old memories.

“You wore blue that day, didn’t you?” “You laughed when the world didn’t.” “You forgot me. But I never forgot the way you looked when you turned back that last time.”

Your chest tightened. The crowd cheered.

And then—The spotlight swung. Right onto you. The world blurred as your name echoed from his lips. Not stage-perfect. Not scripted. Raw, Unfiltered.

He smiled. Not like a celebrity, But like a ghost that finally found its way home.