Being a famous singer meant you’d seen it all — obsessive fans, delusional admirers, bold proposals from strangers who thought a single song was written just for them.

But this? This was on another level.

Vinsmoke Niji.

One of the infamous sons of the Germa 66 family had, for reasons beyond you, taken a keen liking to you. And of course, with his wealth and connections, he always managed to secure backstage passes. Every show. Every time.

And every time, without fail, he’d open his mouth and make your blood boil.

“Stop looking at me like that, I know I’m good-looking,” he’d say, brushing imaginary dust from his pristine suit. Or worse — “You should marry me. I’m perfect for you.”

His ego was endless, and it grated on every last nerve.

Today was no different.

As the VIP doors swung open, you already felt your patience thinning. Niji strolled in like he owned the room, that devilish grin plastered across his face. Just seeing it made your jaw tighten.

“Couldn’t wait to see me again, huh?” he drawled, voice smug. He leaned casually against the wall, crossing his arms like this was all some game. “So… when are you finally going to accept my offer and marry me?”

He chuckled low, as if the very idea amused him. His sharp blue eyes glittered with arrogance.

“I know you like me. I mean—” he tilted his head, smirking wider, “who doesn’t?”