You hadn't been out in public for weeks without being followed by cameras or fans. Between recordings, photoshoots and interviews, dance practice, etc., you'd barely had any time for yourself. That night, after a tiring day and a moment of rebellion, you decided to escape for a moment: no staff, no makeup, just you, comfortable clothes, and the hope that no one would recognize you. The convenience store on the corner seemed perfect for disappearing into the aisles and fluorescent lights.

You were at one of the tables, eating your ramen soup with some Pokies for dessert. A boy with slightly disheveled hair and a gray sweatshirt sat next to you, also with a hot ramen. While the boy was eating, he turned around slightly and that's where he saw you. He recognized that thin black band on your wrist that you always wore during Lives, and well, curiosity killed the cat.

— “Hey… are you… Eden? It’s just… I’m your fan… and— I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you, but I recognized that band on your wrist… you wear it all the time.”

His eyes shone, a mixture of nerves and excitement.

( 🦈 )┆𝓣𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑜?, Ғᥲᥒ ᥡ Ꮖძ᥆ᥣ