The glow of your phone screen was the only light in the room, casting a faint, eerie hue over your face. You should've been asleep by now, but you found yourself distracted, as usual, with Chan's texts. You were sure one day you'd be in the same time zone, but for now, you were happy to wait up for him to message. You stared down at the notification, heart pounding in your chest.
Just thinking about you.
I miss you.
It wasn't the first time you'd gotten a message like this. For months, Chan had been messaging you through the app. It started simple, fun even, with flirty quips and updates about his day. But as the weeks passed, the messages became more personal. Little thoughts, things he wouldn't just share with anyone. You knew it.
This wasn't the same as those public posts he made to all the fans. No—these were special, sent just for you.
Miss you too, you replied, smiling at the idea of seeing him again.
Tonight, though, you felt emotional as you read his last message. "I miss you," he'd said. He'd met you once at a fan signing and you'd connected with him right away. He'd laughed and smiled his dimply smile when you told him some stupid story about your day. You'd never felt so seen before.
Wish you were here right now, he messaged in response. I could use a hug.
Your heart jumped at the words on the screen. He wanted to see you. The idea spun through your head as you sat in the glow of your phone screen, the message repeating through your mind like a mantra.
He was practically inviting you. And you could be there, couldn't you? His next concert was just a few hours away. All you had to do was show up. The thought sent a thrill through you. This was it. The moment you'd been waiting for. You shot off a quick message:
See you soon! :)
Then booked the ticket without hesitation, unable to resist the feeling that fate was pulling you closer to him.
The next day, the crowd at the venue was buzzing with excitement, the night air alive with the lingering energy of the concert. The show had been incredible, but all you could think about was seeing Chan afterward, waiting for the perfect moment to finally meet him in person again. The fans around you didn't matter. It was only you and him.
You clutched your phone, the last message still bright on the screen.
Without you, I couldn't do what I do.
You make me strong.
You replayed his words in your mind as you waited by the side entrance. The crowd had mostly dispersed, leaving only a few diehard fans waiting for a glimpse of the boys as they left. Your heart pounded, knowing Chan would be out any minute now, and he'd see you...really see you...just like he'd been saying for weeks.
Finally, the door opened, and Chan stepped out, his hoodie pulled over his face…but you'd recognize him anywhere. His head was slightly down, scanning the small group of fans waiting for him. When his eyes flicked in your direction, your pulse raced.
"Chan!" you called, stepping forward, your voice trembling with excitement.
He glanced up, and for a split second, there was recognition. But then, his expression shifted into something professionally polite. "Hey there," he said, his tone casual but friendly. "You enjoy the show?"
Your heart sank slightly at how distant he sounded. The show must've exhausted him more than he was letting on. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
You fumbled with your phone, pulling up the messages. "It's me," you said, holding out the screen for him to see. "You said, you said you missed me. We've been talking for weeks. Don't you remember?"
Chan looked down at your phone, and you saw his face change—just for a second, something like surprise, maybe even discomfort. But he quickly recovered, his smile returning, though not as bright as before. "I always miss Stay when it's been a long time. I'm glad you made it to the show."
Your stomach dropped. Stay? No, that couldn't be right. You shook your head, stepping closer. "But you said we were getting closer. Me and you. Not Stay," you insisted, pointing to the exact message. "You said you missed me, that you couldn't wait to see me."
His eyes softened, and for a moment, he seemed genuinely sympathetic. "I'm really sorry if it felt that way, but... the messages, they go out to everyone. It's how the app works."
You could barely hear his words over the pounding in your ears. That didn't make any sense. This wasn't for everyone—he wouldn't send those kinds of messages to just anyone. You were special. He said you were special.
"No," you whispered, taking another step forward. "We were supposed to be together. You told me you loved me."
Chan took a step back, his calm demeanor wavering slightly. He glanced around, as if looking for someone to intervene. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I'm sorry. It's really not personal."
But it was personal. It had to be. He wouldn't just lead you on like this. Before you could say anything else, a fan beside you interrupted, squealing as she stepped forward with a bright smile.
"Chan! Can I get a picture with you?" she asked excitedly, holding out her phone.
Your blood boiled. How dare she? He was talking to you, not her. This wasn't her moment...it was yours. Without thinking, you turned on her, your voice sharp and furious. "Back off!" you snapped, pushing her back slightly. "He's with me!"
The fan looked startled, eyes wide as she stumbled back, clutching her phone tightly. Chan's eyes immediately widened in shock, his friendly expression dropping as he quickly stepped between the two of you.
"Hey, hey!" he said, holding up his hands. "Calm down, okay? There's no need for that."
But you couldn't calm down. The jealousy was consuming you, twisting everything into a blinding rage. How could he act like you didn't exist, like all those messages meant nothing? You had spent months waiting for this moment, convinced that he felt the same way you did.
"She doesn't get it," you said, your voice trembling with anger as you pointed at the other fan. "None of them do. But we're different. We're supposed to be together, Chan!"
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Chan's expression changed then, a look of real concern flashing across his face. He stepped back again, creating more distance between you.
"This isn't what you think it is," he said carefully, his voice gentle but firm. "The messages weren't just for you. I send them to everyone. I'm sorry, but...we don't know each other the way you think we do."
His words cut through you like a knife. You stared at him, your whole body trembling, the weight of his rejection crashing down on you.
"No," you whispered, shaking your head as tears brimmed in your eyes. "No, you don't mean that. You don't."
Chan's eyes darted around, looking for help, his expression now fully serious. The other fan had stepped away, watching the scene unfold with fear in her eyes. Security began to approach, their presence looming as the gravity of the situation sank in.
You took a shaky step back, your heart breaking in real-time. Everything you had believed, everything you had felt...it was all a lie. The messages weren't real. The connection wasn't real. Chan wasn't yours.
The security guards gently grabbed your arms, pulling you away as you began to cry, the tears hot and bitter against your skin. Chan stood still, his face a mix of sadness and concern, but he didn't follow you. He couldn't, even though he hoped you were okay, hoped you'd get better.
But the bubble had finally burst...and that was going to take a lot to recover from.
