Part 4
The rain pounded against the glass.
Adrian stood at the door of his hotel room, staring at the sunflower lying on the floor. Its yellow petals glistened like tiny eyes.
Security had searched the hallway and found nothing. But the message on the petal — "Still watching" — told him everything he needed to know.
She was here.
Not just in the city.
Here.
He locked the door, drew the curtains, and tried to calm his breathing. But the silence in the room felt wrong. Heavy. Like someone was holding their breath.
He turned slowly toward the corner near the closet.
And froze.
"Mira…"
She was standing there. Inside his room. Drenched from the rain, hair plastered to her face, eyes wide and shining.
"I couldn't leave," she whispered. "Not after you saw me again."
His voice cracked. "How did you get in?"
"You used to sing about open doors," she murmured. "I listened."
She took a step forward, and he instinctively stepped back until his spine pressed against the window.
"I told you," Adrian said, forcing steadiness into his voice, "you're scaring me."
"I'm not here to hurt you," she said, her voice trembling now. "I'm here because you're alone. And I'm alone. And you said you're nothing without us. You don't understand how much I believed you."
He swallowed hard. "That was just a line, Mira. For the fans. I never meant for—"
"I'm not just a fan!" she snapped, the sound sharp and breaking in the quiet room. Her eyes glistened as tears mixed with the rain on her cheeks. "I'm the one who stayed. The one who watched when no one else cared who you were offstage."
She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a worn flash drive.
"This," she said softly, "is every moment of you I've saved. Interviews, backstage clips, photos no one else has. All the times you looked tired. All the times you looked sad. I was there."
Adrian's stomach twisted. "Mira, please. Give it to security. Leave it here. Walk away."
But she shook her head. "I can't walk away anymore. I've built my whole life around you. Without you, I'm—"
She stopped herself, pressing a hand to her mouth, trembling. "—nothing."
Adrian took a deep breath, trying to sound gentle. "That's not true. You're someone. You're Mira. You can have your own life. You can still—"
"No." Her voice cracked, and she stepped closer until he could see the storm swirling in her eyes. "You don't get it. If you send me away now, I'll just come back. Over and over. Until you finally see me."
He stood frozen, the rain hammering the window behind him. She was close enough for him to smell the faint sweetness of sunflowers under the scent of wet clothes.
"You're tired," she whispered. "I'll take care of you now. I can stay quiet. You won't even know I'm here, not really. Just… let me stay."
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
He realized then that no security team, no locked door, no stage could separate them anymore.
She hadn't left.
And maybe she never would.