It was just supposed to be another quiet day with him.
Another moment stolen from the world, away from cameras and curated headlines, away from who we were supposed to be.
We were laughing like kids again.
"Catch me if you can," I shouted, darting through the grass, slipping between the scattered trees in the quiet corner of the park we always went to.
Sebastian was right behind me, breathless, hoodie drawn low over his face, mask tugged down just enough so he could smile really smile , the kind that crinkled his eyes and made my heart feel like jelly.
"You know i'll catch you eventually," he teased, closing the distance.
But i didn't stop.
Not yet.
We chased each other through the swings, the slides, like two people who never had a real childhood, reclaiming something we didn't even know we were missing. My laughter echoed, and his followed, deep, carefree, unfiltered.
We were ridiculous, really.
Giddy over nothing.
Over existing together in this tiny bubble we built.
After the sun began to set, we sat on the bench, sharing a convenience store milk tea and a small pack of seaweed chips.
My head rested on his shoulder, and his thumb traced soft circles against my hand.
No words, just the quiet rhythm of us.
The kind of peace you wish you could freeze forever.
But forever is fragile when the world is watching.
And the world had been watching.
Because the moment we got home, I mean the exact second i kicked off my shoes and reached for my phone , it buzzed.
Again and again.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
At first, I ignored it.
It was probably a sale or maybe a spam call.
But then another ping came with a preview that made my stomach drop:
"BREAKING: SEBASTIAN GUTIERREZ SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY GIRL IN SEOUL PARK. IS SOLSTICE'S HEARTTHROB DATING A NON-SHOWBIZ?"
My breath caught.
No.
No. No. No.
I opened my browser, and there it was — trending worldwide.
Videos.
Zoomed-in photos.
A blurry shot of us from the side, our hands too close, our body language too intimate.
You couldn't see my face, but anyone who knew me would've figured it out.
My nails.
My sneakers.
The stupid bracelet on my wrist i never took off.
My heart started racing, skin prickling with panic.
I threw on a jacket and ran down the hall, barely locking my unit before banging on his door.
Sebastian opened it almost instantly.
His hair was still damp from a quick shower, and he was already holding his phone.
"Did you see?" I asked, voice tight.
He nodded. "Yeah."
"What do we do?"
"I don't know."
Silence.
The kind that claws at your chest.
The kind where you can feel everything slipping, no matter how tightly you're holding on.
"I didn't mean for this to happen, Margaux," he said. "I swear, I was careful."
"I know," I said, voice cracking. "I know you were."
But the world didn't care about how careful we were.
They never did.
-
By morning, it was war.
The company released a statement confirming that Sebastian was dating "a non-showbiz individual."
They didn't name me.
They didn't need to.
The fans were vicious. The hashtags were brutal.
#SebastianBelongsToUs
#WhoIsThisNobody
#SOLSTICEHeartbreaker
I read the comments even though i knew i shouldn't.
"He's ours. She's ruining his career."
"She's not even famous, she's just lucky."
"Kick her out of his life before it's too late."
They didn't even know me, didn't care that i had been famous, that i walked away to find peace, not another spotlight.
I curled up on my bed, phone face down, heart burning.
It wasn't just the hate.
It was the reality setting in.
That loving someone like Sebastian , choosing him, came with a price i wasn't sure i was brave enough to keep paying.
-
Later that night, he came by again.
Eyes tired, hoodie pulled up, mask half on.
But i didn't even need to look to know it was him.
I just felt it.
He sat beside me quietly, not saying a word at first.
His hand reached for mine.
I let him hold it.
But i couldn't hold back anymore.
"This isn't going to stop," I whispered, voice breaking.
"I know," he murmured, kissing the back of my hand.
"They'll eat you alive, Sebastian. They'll drag you down because of me."
"I don't care—"
"You should. You have the world watching you. You've worked your whole life for this. Since you were seven. Since you moved back from China. Since you trained until your feet bled and your voice cracked."
He looked at me like i was cutting him open. "Margaux…"
"I love you," I said.
His eyes widened.
I had never said it before.
Not like that.
Not out loud.
"I love you," I repeated, even as the tears fell.
"That's why I'm letting you go."
"No," he said, voice sharp. "No. Don't do that. Don't say that."
"I have to," I said, shaking my head, forcing myself to breathe. "You deserve everything you've built. The fans. The stages. The freedom to be who you are without having to hide."
"And what about you?" he said, standing now, pacing. "What about us?"
"I'll be okay," I lied.
He stopped walking, turned to me. "You're not just someone i'm dating. You're, God, you're everything i've ever wanted, Margaux."
That broke me.
Because i believed him.
Because i wanted to run to him and forget all of it, the headlines, the hate, the world.
But i couldn't be selfish.
So i smiled through the ache. "Maybe in another life."
He stared at me for a long time.
Like he was memorizing me.
Like if he looked hard enough, he could stop time.
And then he walked out the door.
No dramatic exit.
No slammed doors.
Just… quiet.
-
When he left, I fell apart.
I pressed my face into my pillow and cried so hard my chest hurt.
The kind of crying you don't do for just anyone.
The kind you only do when something real ends before it's supposed to.
That night, the stars didn't look as pretty from my terrace.
That night, the city felt a little colder.
That night, the bubble finally burst.
And i was alone again.