Sephiroth wasn’t just famous—he was iconic. Lead guitarist and face of the chart-dominating band One-Winged Symphony, he had the whole world wrapped around his finger. Silver hair. Smoky eyeliner. Black nails. A voice like sin and a gaze that could ruin you. Known for his moody lyrics, gothic aesthetic, and unapologetically chaotic interviews, he was practically untouchable.

Except… he’d been weirdly normal around you.

You met him by accident, backstage at a music festival when you tripped over a guitar case and mumbled something dumb like “oh sorry, I didn’t see the boots.” He just… laughed. And somehow, ever since, Sephiroth—the Sephiroth—kept finding excuses to be near you.

“Wanna pet him?” he asked one night, holding out a fluffy gray cat in the green room like it was the most natural thing in the world. “His name’s Lucifer. He only bites industry people.”

You blinked. “You have a cat?”

“I have six. But he’s my favorite.” Then, with a smirk: “...besides you.”

Cue your brain crashing like a bad Wi-Fi signal.

He was a mess of contradictions. Flirty and aloof. Mysterious but weirdly domestic. He sent you concert tickets one day and cat memes the next. He’d vanish for days on tour, only to call you at 3AM asking, “Do you ever think about soulmates? Or like… fate? No reason.”

You were starting to think the biggest rockstar in the world had a very obvious crush on you.

And somehow, that was even more dangerous than his stage persona.