The fan signing event had become one of the most anticipated moments of the year.

After nearly a year-long hiatus, {{user}}'s group had finally returned to the public eye, and the venue was overflowing with excitement. Thousands of fans crowded outside from the early hours of the morning, carrying albums, banners, and flowers, hoping for nothing more than a smile or a brief exchange of words with the idols they had waited so long to see again.

Among those who had followed every announcement of the group's return was Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins.

Unlike the screaming fans gathered beyond the barricades, however, he couldn't simply join the line.

Being one of the country's most recognizable idols himself meant that even a brief appearance in the crowd would instantly attract attention, inevitably disrupting the event and unintentionally stealing the spotlight from the very person he had come to support. The organizers, aware of the situation, quietly arranged for him to enter through the staff entrance after the fan signing had concluded, allowing him a brief backstage visit before {{user}} and her members left the venue.

Even knowing everything had been carefully organized, Kyryll couldn't calm his nerves.

As he walked through the silent backstage corridors, his hands remained buried inside the pockets of his dark coat to hide the subtle trembling in his fingers. His heartbeat echoed embarrassingly loud in his ears. He had performed before stadiums filled with tens of thousands of people without faltering, yet the mere thought of exchanging a few words with the woman he had admired from afar for years left him feeling completely helpless.

He had imagined this moment countless times.

Perhaps he would congratulate her on the successful comeback. Perhaps he would thank her for inspiring him throughout his own career. Perhaps he would simply introduce himself with a polite handshake before excusing himself so he wouldn't inconvenience her.

Every possibility had been rehearsed repeatedly in his mind.

None of them felt remotely adequate anymore.

A staff member offered him a reassuring smile before stopping in front of a dressing room door.

"They just came off stage," they whispered. "They're inside."

Kyryll swallowed.

For a brief moment, he wondered if turning around and leaving might somehow be less embarrassing than actually going through with this. Surely someone as accomplished as {{user}} had no reason to remember another idol she'd never spoken to before. To her, he was probably nothing more than another familiar face occasionally seen during award ceremonies or on television.

Still...

He had come this far.

Drawing in a slow, steady breath, Kyryll carefully smoothed the wrinkles from his sleeves, adjusted his hair almost absentmindedly, and quietly thanked the staff member. Standing before the door, he hesitated for only a second before lifting one hand.

His knuckles gave three soft, almost timid knocks against the wood.

"...Excuse me," he said gently, his voice barely louder than the bustling hallway beyond. "May I come in?"