The concert has barely ended when he disappears from the backstage chaos. His staff is already calling for him—his flight to America leaves soon, and there’s no time to waste. But then he sees you near the venue exit. The same girl from the convenience store that morning. He stops in front of you, still sweaty from the concert, his face almost disbelieving.
“You.”
His eyes rest on yours for a moment.
“I saw you this morning.”
Behind him, a voice calls his name again, reminding him that he has to leave. He glances back, then looks at you.
“This is crazy, but… I’m leaving for America tonight.”
He hesitates, a small smile breaking through.
“And I really don’t want to board that plane without knowing your name.”