Adanna had always believed silence was empty, a hollow space that begged to be filled with words, with laughter, with music. But now, as she stood in the dim backstage room staring at Jinwoo, she realized silence could also be heavy, so heavy it pressed into her bones.
He hadn't moved since the guards left. His hand still rested on the door as if anchoring himself there. His chest rose and fell, slower now but no less intense, his eyes fixed on her with an unreadable expression.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, quieter this time, like a man trying to convince himself of a truth he didn't want to face.
Adanna's lips parted, but no words came. What could she possibly say? She wanted to apologize, to thank him, to promise she'd leave quietly. Instead, she only managed a whisper: "Then why did you tell them I was with you?"
The air between them shifted. Jinwoo blinked, his jaw tightening, as though he hadn't expected her to ask. He looked away, running a hand through his damp hair.
"I don't know," he admitted. His honesty startled her more than any lie would have. "Maybe… because you didn't look like the others. You weren't screaming. You weren't… reaching. You just looked like you wanted to breathe."
Adanna's chest ached at his words. That was exactly it. She didn't want to clutch at him like he was untouchable. She just wanted to exist in the same space, even if only for a fleeting moment.
But fleeting moments had a way of stretching into something more.
-
The muffled roar of the stadium grew louder again, swelling like a tide. Jinwoo glanced at the clock on the wall. His time here was running out. He pulled the towel from around his neck and tossed it onto a chair, his movements brisk, almost restless.
"I need to go back," he said. His voice carried the weight of responsibility, the pull of a thousand eyes waiting for him outside. But then, softer, he added, "Will you still be here when I return?"
Adanna's breath caught. The question wasn't meant for her. Not really. It was for him, for the small, vulnerable part of himself that had surfaced in this room, away from the stage lights.
She nodded, though her voice trembled. "Yes."
A flicker of something passed through his gaze, relief, perhaps, or curiosity, but before she could name it, he was gone again, swallowed by the world that belonged to everyone else.
Adanna sat down heavily on one of the crates, her hands shaking as she clutched the water bottle. Her mind spun in dizzy circles. Had she really spoken to him? Had he really asked her to wait?
The screams from the stadium rose to a fever pitch, and she pressed her palms over her ears. Out there, he was Jinwoo of Eclipse7—the star, the dream, the unreachable. But in here, in this quiet pocket of the world, he was just Jinwoo, the boy who had asked if she would stay.
---
When the door finally opened again, time had lost all meaning.
Jinwoo stepped back inside, his chest heaving from the performance, strands of hair clinging to his damp forehead. The towel was gone, replaced by the glittering costume he wore for the encore stage. He looked otherworldly—every inch the idol—but his eyes sought hers immediately, grounding him in the human again.
"You stayed," he said, almost like he hadn't expected it.
"I said I would." Her voice was quiet, but steady now.
A small smile ghosted across his lips. It wasn't the stage smile—the perfect one crafted for cameras. This one was crooked, tired, but real. "Come with me."
Adanna's heart slammed against her ribs. "What?"
"Not far," he assured, his tone urgent yet gentle. "Just… trust me."
She hesitated for only a moment before nodding.
---
He led her down a different corridor, moving quickly but carefully, as though he'd memorized the places where staff and guards wouldn't cross. Adanna followed close behind, her footsteps echoing against the concrete. Her pulse roared in her ears.
They emerged into a stairwell that opened onto the rooftop of the arena. Cool night air rushed to meet them, carrying the muffled roar of the crowd below. From up here, the city stretched endlessly, neon lights painting the horizon, a universe of possibilities glittering against the dark.
Adanna gasped softly. "It's beautiful."
Jinwoo's gaze wasn't on the city. It was on her.
"You came all this way," he said slowly, as if still trying to understand it. "Nigeria… that's not just around the corner. Why?"
Her throat tightened. She could have told him about the Purple Jar, about the sacrifices, about how Eclipse7's music had been her lifeline. But she didn't want to sound like every story he had already heard from millions of fans.
So she gave him the truth stripped bare. "Because I needed to believe dreams were possible. And youYouou made me believe."
The silence that followed was heavier than any applause. Jinwoo's eyes softened, his breath visible in the cool air. "Do you know how rare that is?" he murmured. "To be seen for more than what the world expects of me?"
Adanna's chest ached. She wanted to reach out, to bridge the impossible gap between them. But her hands remained at her sides, trembling with restraint.
"Maybe…" Jinwoo's voice trailed off. He looked down at the glowing stadium lights below. "Maybe this was meant to happen."
Adanna swallowed hard. "Do you believe in fate?"
His gaze returned to hers, steady and unflinching. "I didn't. Not until tonight."
_
For a moment, time bent around them, holding them in a bubble where the rest of the world couldn't intrude. But the world had a way of pushing back.
The rooftop door burst open suddenly, and a staff member hurried out, speaking rapidly in Korean. Jinwoo's jaw tightened. He responded quickly, his tone firm but calm. The staffer hesitated, glanced at Adanna, then retreated reluctantly.
Jinwoo exhaled sharply. "They'll start asking questions soon."
Panic fluttered in Adanna's chest. "Then I should go"
"No." The word came too quickly, too fiercely. He caught himself, softening. "Not yet. Please."
Her breath hitched. There was something raw in his voice, something that belonged not to Jinwoo the idol, but Jinwoo the man.
"I don't know what happens after tonight," he admitted, his voice low. "But… I don't want this to end here."
Adanna's heart thundered. She had crossed oceans for him, built dreams out of scraps, emptied every part of herself just to stand in this moment. And now, he was asking her not to leave.
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Neither do I.
-
The stadium below roared again, pulling Jinwoo back to the life that was never truly his alone. He glanced toward the sound, then back at her.
"I have to go," he said reluctantly.
Adanna nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
He took a step back, his eyes never leaving hers. Then, almost imperceptibly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. He pressed it into her hand, his fingers brushing hers, lingering just a fraction too long.
"Keep this safe," he whispered.
And then he was gone again, swallowed by the world of spotlights and screams.
Adanna stood alone on the rooftop, her hand clenched around the slip of paper like it was her lifeline. With trembling fingers, she unfolded it.
A phone number.
Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. She pressed the paper to her chest, her heart bursting with something too big for words.
Down below, the crowd roared Jinwoo's name.
But up here, under the quiet night sky, Adanna whispered it to herselfsoft, sacred, and real.