I knew something was off the moment i stepped off the bus.
There was this girl, maybe college-aged, who kept glancing at me from across the aisle. Not in a rude way.
More like… confused. Curious.
I'd seen that look before.
Many times, in fact.
It's the look people give when they recognize you but aren't entirely sure why.
She had her phone out, subtly angled toward me, pretending to scroll.
Classic.
I shifted my gaze to the window, pretending not to notice, but it was too late.
That kind of curiosity spreads fast online, like wildfire on dry land.
An hour later, it happened.
My face.
Again.
On X. On TikTok. On Instagram.
"Is this Margaux Imperial in Korea? Omg she's riding the bus like a normal person 😭 QUEEN behavior."
"We don't deserve her. Still so elegant."
"We miss you, margaux!"
"Margaux, Pls! Comeback"
"Why did the Philippines let her go! Omg! I miss her so much"
No hashtags.
No tags.
But enough eyes to make me trend for the third time this month.
I didn't repost.
Didn't like.
Didn't comment.
I simply turned off my phone, tucked it into the drawer beside my bed, and stared at the ceiling.
This is the life i chose.
And still… they found me.
But weirdly, I wasn't mad.
Not this time.
There was a strange peace in knowing i hadn't done anything to deserve the attention.
I was just… living.
And even if i wasn't fully healed yet, there was something comforting about the way the world still looked for me even when i stopped looking back.
I stood and walked toward the balcony, stretching my arms a little.
The night air was crisp.
Clean.
Not the smoggy kind i'd grown used to back home.
Just clean enough to reset your thoughts, but cold enough to keep you grounded.
Across from me, his balcony light flicked on.
My heartbeat did this annoying skip again.
There he was.
Sebastian.
In a plain black shirt this time, a warm mug in hand.
His hair looked damp maybe from a shower.
The edges curled slightly, unstyled. Unbothered.
The billboard right behind him, yes, his face was literally behind him glowed in pale blue light, advertising a cologne i'd actually used once for a boyfriend character in a teleserye.
I waved a little.
He nodded, and smiled, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "You're trending again."
I groaned, leaning against the railing. "Don't remind me."
"You looked good in the photo."
"I was wearing an old cap and a hoodie."
"Still. You looked… like you."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Are you saying i don't usually look like me?"
"No," he said, laughing softly. "I'm saying you look good when you're not trying."
I didn't answer.
Compliments always sat strangely with me.
Maybe because so many of the ones i received back then came with strings, photoshoots, headlines, PR angles.
But this one?
It felt clean.
"I'm sorry if the attention bothers you," he added.
I shook my head. "I don't think i care as much anymore. That's what scares me."
He tilted his head, as if encouraging me to go on.
I didn't.
Instead, I asked, "Do you ever get tired of being… everywhere?"
He exhaled slowly, like he'd been waiting for someone to ask him that exact question. "All the time."
There was a long pause, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
Just still.
Like the air between us knew what it meant to exist without noise.
Then, just as i thought we'd leave it at that, he asked—
"Have you ever been in love?"
The question hit me like a splash of ice water.
Not because it was shocking, but because no one's ever asked it in such a calm, direct way.
I looked at him.
His tone was casual.
But his eyes… they weren't.
"No," I said, quietly.
His brows lifted. "Never?"
"Never."
He leaned against his railing now, mirroring me. "You're sure?"
I almost laughed. "I've been a public figure since i was a child. I learned to pretend love before I ever had the chance to feel it."
He didn't interrupt. He just… listened.
"I had love teams. Fans who shipped me with my co-stars. Headlines that speculated. But all of it was… orchestrated. Choreographed."
He nodded slowly. "So no real relationships?"
I shook my head. "I didn't want to. I was too focused. Too careful. And then, when the world turned on me, it just felt safer to be alone."
A soft breeze passed between us, brushing my hair behind my shoulder.
I noticed how quiet the city felt at this hour.
No horns.
No heels clacking.
Just us, and the distant hum of Seoul breathing softly in the background.
"What about you?" I asked.
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "We're not allowed."
I blinked. "Seriously?"
He nodded. "Strict contracts. Endless monitoring. Even talking to the same girl too many times sparks dating rumors."
"So… you've never…"
He shook his head. "Not really. Maybe crushes. Passing feelings. But nothing you can call real."
My heart pinched a little.
Not out of pity.
Just… recognition.
We were two people from opposite worlds, bound by the same loneliness.
"I used to think love would ruin everything i worked for," I admitted.
"And now?" he asked.
I glanced up at him.
"I'm not sure anymore."
He smiled again, this time smaller. "You don't strike me as someone easily shaken."
I tilted my head. "I'm not. But i think i'm starting to realize… maybe strength doesn't always mean isolation."
The silence that followed felt louder than anything we'd said.
Then he whispered, almost too softly, "You've always seemed strong. Even back then."
I looked at him sharply. "Back then?"
His ears turned slightly pink. "That day. The ambassador shoot. For Lueur. You walked past our studio. You were in a white pantsuit. Your hair tied back. Sunglasses."
I blinked, remembering the shoot vividly. It was for their luxury fragrance line. I didn't even know anyone was watching.
"You stalked me," I teased.
He smiled. "A little."
I didn't know what to say to that.
But strangely… I didn't want to say anything.
So i just stood there, watching him, while he watched me.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us needed to.
It wasn't love. Not yet.
But it was something.
Something real.
And in a world that tried to script every word and choreograph every moment—
That felt like enough.