The hum of the corridor was so different from the storm she had left behind. Back in the arena, thousands of voices roared like waves crashing against rocks. Here, the air was still, thick with the faint buzz of electricity and the sharp tang of metal equipment.
Adanna froze. She couldn't move, couldn't think. Her chest rose and fell like she had run a marathon, but her legs rooted themselves to the ground.
Jinwoo stood just a few feet away, sweat dampening his hair, his towel clenched loosely in one hand. His lips parted slightly as his gaze landed on her, wide, startled, questioning.
For years, Adanna had imagined this moment in countless forms. She had dreamed of catching a glimpse of him backstage, of standing close enough to see the curve of his jaw, to hear his voice not filtered through speakers. But in all her imaginings, she had always been prepared. She had practiced what she would say, how she would smile, the words that would explain the years of devotion that had carried her here.
Yet now, she was voiceless.
And Jinwoo was the first to speak.
"Are you… lost?" His voice was lower than she expected, a quiet contrast to the thunder of the stage.
Adanna's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her heart hammered so violently she wondered if he could see it through her chest. She forced herself to nod.
Jinwoo's eyes softened, though his posture remained guarded. "This area is restricted. Security shouldn't have let anyone through." He wiped the sweat from his neck, his tone carrying no anger—just confusion. "Come. I'll take you back."
He turned slightly, expecting her to follow.
Adanna's fingers clenched around the edge of her hoodie pocket. This was her chance. The one moment she had begged the universe for. If she walked away now, she might never be this close to him again.
Before her courage fled, she blurted, "Your song… Starlight."
Jinwoo stopped mid-step. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder at her.
Her words stumbled out, fragile but earnest. "It… it saved me once. I was… I was ready to give up that day. But when I heard your voice, I didn't."
Silence pressed in. For a heartbeat too long, Jinwoo only stared at her, as if her confession had tilted the ground beneath his feet.
Then his lips curved, not into the dazzling stage smile she had seen in countless photos, but something smaller. Real.
"You don't know how much that means," he said quietly.
Adanna's throat tightened. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she blinked them away. She didn't want to cry now, not when he was finally looking at her.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. A staff member's voice rang out in Korean, urgent and clipped. Jinwoo glanced toward the sound, then back at her. His eyes lingered, as if reluctant to let the fragile moment break.
He leaned closer, his voice dropping. "Don't say anything. Just follow me."
Adanna's heart jumped. She followed him down the corridor, her sneakers scuffing against the concrete floor. Every second felt unreal, like she was moving through a dream she was terrified to wake from.
They slipped through a door at the far end, into a smaller backstage room filled with boxes of water bottles and spare microphones. Jinwoo closed the door behind them, exhaling softly.
"Security will check the main halls first," he explained. Then, his gaze returned to her, sharp but not unkind. "Who are you?"
Adanna swallowed hard. Her name felt heavy on her tongue, but she forced it out. "Adanna."
The syllables sounded foreign in this place, but they carried all of her.
Jinwoo repeated it softly, testing it in his accent. "Adanna." His brows knit together slightly. "You're… not from here."
She shook her head. "Nigeria."
Something flickered across his expression, surprise, then curiosity. "You came… this far? For us?"
Adanna nodded. "For you." The words escaped before she could soften them, before she could hide the truth.
The silence that followed was electric.
Jinwoo looked at her like he was searching for something, as though her presence itself was a puzzle he wasn't prepared to solve. For once, he didn't feel like the unreachable star under the spotlight. He felt human ,standing in a dim room with a girl who shouldn't have been here, but was.
Time bent strangely in that room. Seconds stretched, taut and fragile.
Adanna wanted to tell him everything, the Purple Jar, the sacrifices, the nights she had listened to his voice until sleep claimed her. But the weight of words pressed too heavily on her chest. She didn't want to sound like every fan's dream, even if hers was genuine.
Jinwoo broke the silence first, reaching for a bottle of water and twisting it open. He offered it to her. "You look pale."
Her fingers brushed his as she took it, the contact so brief yet so searing it left her breathless. She murmured a thank you and sipped, trying to steady herself.
"Why me?" he asked suddenly.
The question startled her. She looked up to find his eyes fixed on hers, not demanding, not dismissive, but searching.
Adanna's voice trembled. "Because when you sing… it feels like you see me. Like you know the parts of me no one else does."
Jinwoo inhaled sharply, almost imperceptibly. The towel in his hands twisted as if he needed something to hold on to.
Before he could respond, another knock rattled the door. "Jinwoo-ssi!" a staff member called in Korean. "You're needed on stage in three minutes."
His head dropped slightly, shadows cutting across his features. For the first time, Adanna saw the weight behind the idol mask, the exhaustion, the responsibility, the way his dreams were chained to expectations.
He looked at her again, urgency flashing in his gaze. "Stay here. Don't move."
And then he was gone.
The door clicked shut, leaving Adanna alone in the backstage room, her pulse thundering in her ears.
___
Minutes felt like hours. The muffled roar of the stadium seeped through the walls, swelling each time Eclipse7's voices rose in harmony. Adanna sat on the edge of a box, clutching the water bottle he had given her.
Her mind replayed every second, the way he said her name, the look in his eyes when she confessed, the question he had asked. Why me?
She didn't know if she had ruined everything or created something new.
When the door opened again, she jolted upright.
But it wasn't Jinwoo.
It was security.
Their voices were stern, their eyes sharp. Adanna's breath caught in her throat. They spoke in rapid Korean, but their meaning was clear enough. She wasn't supposed to be here.
Her heart pounded. The dream was ending. The fragile thread she had grasped was slipping from her fingers.
And then, he appeared again.
Jinwoo stepped into the room, sweat still clinging to his temples, his chest rising and falling from the performance. His presence filled the space instantly.
The guards turned to him, their words overlapping. Jinwoo raised a hand, his tone firm. "She's with me."
Adanna's eyes widened. The words echoed in her chest, louder than the stadium outside. She's with me.
The guards hesitated, then nodded reluctantly before retreating.
Jinwoo closed the door, his hand lingering on the handle. For a long moment, he didn't speak. His shoulders heaved slightly, as though the decision he had just made carried a weight heavier than anyone realised.
Finally, he turned back to her. His eyes, dark and unguarded, met hers.
"You shouldn't be here," he whispered.
Adanna's voice cracked. "I know."
Yet neither of them moved.
The silence stretched again, no longer heavy but charged, like the space before lightning strikes.
And in that suspended breath between worlds, Adanna realised something: destiny hadn't brought her th
is far just to stand in the shadows.
For the first time, Jinwoo wasn't a dream on a stage.
He was real. And he was looking at her.