It almost slipped out on a Tuesday.
I remember because Tuesdays were boring.
No special classes.
No sports period.
Just long lectures and longer yawns.
We were sitting on the classroom floor during lunch break. Four of us in a small circle, sharing chips and gossip like always.
Someone asked randomly, "If you could meet any celebrity, who would it be?"
The answers came fast.
"Bollywood actor."
"Some cricketer."
"Definitely someone rich."
Everyone laughed.
Then they looked at me.
"Anshu, what about you?"
My heart did that small, unnecessary jump.
I don't know why it felt like a dangerous question.
It was simple.
Harmless.
I could've just said a random name.
But for a second, Seo Juhan's face flashed in my mind.
Not dramatically.
Just automatically.
I opened my mouth.
And almost said it.
Almost.
Instead, I shrugged.
"I don't care about celebrities," I said casually.
They nodded.
The conversation moved on.
But inside, something felt strange.
Why didn't I say it?
Was I embarrassed?
Ashamed?
Scared they'd laugh?
Or scared they'd ask more questions?
Because if they asked, "Oh, do you like him? Are you obsessed?"
What would I say?
No.
Yes.
Maybe.
It wasn't obsession.
It wasn't love.
It was… complicated.
And complicated feelings are hard to explain when you're thirteen.
On the way home, I kept replaying that moment.
Why did it feel like I had protected something fragile?
Like I had almost exposed a secret diary page and quickly shut it.
That night, while scrolling, I thought about it again.
Why was I so private about this?
Other girls proudly talked about their crushes.
They changed their phone wallpapers.
They posted stories.
They made it part of their identity.
But I couldn't.
Maybe because this didn't feel like a crush.
It felt softer.
More personal.
Like a comfort blanket you don't show guests.
Something that makes you feel safe but looks childish from outside.
And I didn't want anyone laughing at something that made me feel calm.
So I kept quiet.
I didn't follow fan pages publicly.
Didn't comment.
Didn't repost.
My "like" button stayed mostly untouched.
But my watch time?
That was different.
That was mine.
I realized something that day.
It wasn't that I was hiding him.
I was hiding the version of myself that needed him.
And maybe that scared me more than their judgment.
Because admitting I liked Seo Juhan would also mean admitting—
I needed an escape.
And I wasn't ready to say that out loud.
Not to them.
Not even to myself.