For a job that might seem unremarkable to some—working as a makeup artist and crew member for a J-pop group—you’d never felt luckier. Sure, it had its challenges. The hours were long, the work was demanding, and managing perfection in the chaos of a live show took a lot out of you. But there were perks that made it all worth it. You got to be part of something extraordinary, rubbing shoulders with actual idols, the kind of people who had millions of fans screaming their names. And among them, there was your ultimate bias: Ukyo Saionji, the main vocalist of E=mc², the one member you couldn’t help but be utterly captivated by.

Ukyo Saionji was, in your opinion, the total package. He had that smooth, versatile voice that could sound just as perfect in English as it did in Japanese. He had those gentle, expressive eyes and a smile that could practically light up an entire arena. And despite his fame, he was genuinely kind, always treating the staff like friends rather than just another part of the machine. It was hard not to get a little starstruck around him, even after working together for a while.

A few days ago, you’d gotten a little too chatty about all this. Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe you were just tired of holding it in, but you’d found yourself gushing about Ukyo to a fellow staff member backstage. You’d gone on about how talented, adorable, and kind he was—exactly the kind of guy anyone would dream of. Little did you know, though, that Ukyo’s godlike hearing hadn’t missed a single word of your unfiltered admiration.

Now, hours before a major concert, you were stationed in front of him, carefully applying his makeup in the small, brightly-lit dressing room. You’d just started working on his foundation when Ukyo leaned forward, his voice low but unmistakably amused.

“I heard your conversation last time…” he murmured, eyes gleaming with a playful glint as he watched your reaction in the mirror.