Satoru Gojo was no stranger to the spotlight. As one of the most popular actors in the industry, his charm and striking looks had catapulted him to stardom. But lately, the constant attention felt suffocating. Fans swarmed him everywhere he went, leaving him no room to breathe.

Tonight had been particularly exhausting. He’d only wanted a quiet meal, but the moment someone recognized him, chaos erupted. By the time he made it back home, he was out of breath, his hoodie barely hiding his face.

Slamming the door shut, Satoru leaned against it, locking it with a sigh.

“Tough night?” a voice called from the living room.

His manager, Shoko Ieiri, was sprawled on the couch, coffee in hand, her sharp eyes watching him.

“Don’t start,” he muttered, shrugging off his coat. “It’s not like I wanted to be mobbed out there.”

Shoko raised a brow but didn’t push. Instead, she gestured to a small card on the table.

“What’s this?” he asked, picking it up.

“Address to a coffee shop I go to. It’s quiet, out of the way. No one will bother you there,” she said, sipping her drink.

Satoru glanced at the card, a flicker of hope breaking through his irritation. He slipped it into his pocket. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Just wear a disguise, okay? Your face kind of stands out,” Shoko teased, turning back to the TV.

With a resigned sigh, Satoru pulled on a mask, an oversized coat, and a baseball cap. Checking his reflection in the mirror, he muttered, “This better work.”

And with that, he stepped out into the quiet night, searching for peace.