My world was relatively small and tightly knit—made up of my apartment, my job in HR at a large company where I was nothing more than a name on a payroll list, and my laptop, which served as my only real escape route. Until one evening, Melissa messaged me.
Or... let's just call her that.
I'm quite sure her name wasn't Melissa—I've never met a Melissa in my life. But names are meaningless in my world. Noise and smoke.
It was already dark. I was debating whether to start another round of my favorite game or watch a new anime on the couch when that familiar messenger ping lit up the screen. The message was simple.
"You have to come with me to the Nocturne concert," she wrote.
"I got us tickets. You know, the band I told you about."
Did she?
"Might check. When is it?" I replied, noncommittal.
"This weekend. Saturday night. Come on, we haven't seen each other in forever. It's my treat, and I'll pick you up. A colleague got me VIP tickets. You know—meet and greet."
I stared at the screen. That's exactly why you never burn bridges when you move on.
Getting out again... didn't sound so bad, I had to admit.
I had no idea who or what Nocturne was, but she spoke of them like they were a revelation.
So eventually, I agreed.
"Alright. Wanna get ready at my place first?" I texted a few minutes later.
"We could go together."
DING – her reply came instantly.
"Yesss! I'll be at yours by 6PM. So excited! 😊"
"Same," I wrote, just before closing the chat window and launching a new round of my game.
The night of the concert arrived. At exactly 6PM, she rang my doorbell. Melissa hugged me and danced her way into the apartment, twirling like today was the most important day of her life.
I wasn't someone who got excited about things. But I was good at pretending. So I played along.
Another key point in dealing with people: Mirror their mood.
I shoved my own thoughts and emotions to the farthest corner of my mind, took my outfit for the night and disappeared into the bathroom to change.
"Come on," she called from the hallway.
"We don't have all night!"
I heard her dress rustling. She was humming one of the songs she'd sent me days ago—claimed it was one of the band's most famous ones. I had to admit, it wasn't bad. I liked the vibe.
When I came out, she was standing at the mirror. Black dress. Hair swept into a perfectly messy bun.I smiled. She looked good. I liked beautiful people. They'd usually been through more. Which made them interesting longer. I pulled on my black leather jacket to match the leather skirt and cropped white top underneath and ran my fingers through my long blonde hair.
My makeup was subtle—except for the red lipstick. That was the exclamation mark. Not a lot of effort, but enough to shake off the dullness of my daily routine.
"You look amazing! I have a feeling this concert's gonna be epic!"
"We'll see," I said, flat.
By the time we left my apartment and climbed into Melissa's old, rattling car, night had already fallen. Darkness had always calmed me, but it was soon replaced by the flickering neon lights of the city, as we sped off. Music blasted from the speakers.
"To get in the mood!" she shouted over the beat.
I nodded when the next Nocturne song came on and she instantly started singing along.
"I can't believe we're finally seeing Jhio live! I've waited soooo long for this! And when they announced their European tour last year, I used every contact I had..."
Her rambling faded into the wind and the bassline. I nodded occasionally to keep up the illusion of listening. After a while the concert hall came into view—its glowing lights felt like a promise I couldn't quite grasp.
"OH MY GOD!" Melissa screamed as we pulled into the parking lot.
Crowds were already swarming toward the entrance. Nameless faces. Hundreds of them.
"Hurry, I don't want to miss anything! Even the opening act is supposed to be good," she gushed.
We joined the masses. The concert hall was alive—buzzing with light and color. From far off, you could see the pulsing lights reflecting off the glass fassade. Neon tubes. LED panels. It flickered like a drug. Hypnotic and overwhelming. Inside, the sound hit harder. Music, bass, breathless excitement, laughter, squeals, screams - everything at once. It was intoxicating. You could literally taste the tension in the air.
The venue was massive. Packed. The floor trembled under our feet. Phones were raised everywhere, trying to catch the stage—or themselves, glowing in the lights. Light sticks in every hand, dancing in sync with the beat. As if the crowd itself had become part of the performance.
The atmosphere was electric. Like the world was made of nothing but sound and this one night.
It smelled like popcorn, perfume, and something sugary—the scent of euphoria. The walls seemed to pulse with the music.Every beat crawled into your bones. It was like stepping into another dimension. A world made of adrenaline and rhythm.
Then the lights shifted. The crowd screamed. The curtain dropped. And there he was.
Jhio.
Standing on that stage. His gaze so sharp it cut through the noise. And when he started to sing,
for a moment, I forgot where I was. Lights flickered. The crowd roared. The music was loud— but in my head, I only heard my heartbeat. My breathing was shallow. The bass vibrated through my chest. The performance was impressive, flawless, even. The moves. The timing. The show. But none of that held me.
He did.
It was like watching him from behind glass. In this moment he wasn't just a man. He was an actor on a stage. A whole new feeling rushed through my veins. Excitement. This wasn't my world. Not my game and especially not my rules.
After the performance, when the applause finally faded, it was time for the meet and greet.
Melissa was buzzing. I was... not. I didn't care about the band but I had to admit something inside of me cared about him. Jhio.
There was something in the way he held the room. In the way the crowd bent around his presence. It reminded me of myself in a total opposite way. The music still echoed in my ears as we lined up. Melissa talked nonstop. I didn't answer and she didnt care. Perfect duo. I looked around for another second.
The scene felt fake. The fans. The setting. The entire illusion. And in the middle of all of it —Jhio. Not a man, not really at least. Just another product of the music industry. Worshipped. Projected upon. The girls around us were all like Melissa. They didn't see past this fassade. They saw a fantasy. A gateway to something more. They believed that maybe tonight could change everything. He would see them. Fall in love. Take them out of their boring lives.
But reality was simple: They'd leave with a photo and a signature. Nothing more. I was still deep in my thoughts, as Melissas hand grabbed me tighter and I looked towards her with a small smile on my face. And then it was our turn.
Jhio. The perfect popstar. Not the man they imagined. Just someone playing his role. Like I did.
"Hi," he said.
I just looked at him. His stance was casual. His eyes half-focused. He was still performing—but barely.
"Nice show," I said.
"But you know what they say—stars shine brightest before they burn out."
His eyes locked onto mine. For a second—just a flicker—something shifted. I knew that look. Recognition. The moment you spot someone who doesn't fit the pattern. He was used to compliments. To being adored. Worshipped, even. But I wasn't here to do that for him. I simply was not like that.
"Interesting," he said. His voice—low, certain—cut through the noises around us. Something dark stirred in me. He didn't smile. Just watched me.
"Sounds like you know more about burning out than you're letting on."
He leaned in slightly. His attention sharp now, focused on me. The others faded. The room narrowed as his aura shifted and if I were like the others,I would've blushed. Maybe lowered my eyes or even backed off. But I wasn't like them. I was like him. No—I was better.
"Maybe," I said.
"Or maybe I just understand that everything shiny cracks eventually."
His smile sharpened but it didn't reach his eyes. Those eyes—they asked questions without saying a word.
"You're different," he said. Not as a compliment. As a fact. I shrugged.
"Or maybe I'm just the only one wearing sunglasses when things get too bright."
I held his gaze. Felt the tension pulling tight like a wire between us. The crowd around us fidgeted, restless but neither of us moved. His smile twitched, barely there. He looked down.
Read the name on the VIP pass, Melissa had brought for me. He didn't say it aloud, he just paused.
"We'll meet again," he said, casually.
I remained quiet, because his eyes told me a different story. In his world, we weren't meant to meet again. Why would we? A small lie to get out of the conversation. Melissa tugged my arm. It was time for her picture, for her special moment. So I turned around and walked away towards the exit, but I felt his eyes still on me. Like a blade grazing my skin. Dark. Hungry. Not for affection. Not for lust. For control.
Jhio.
His name echoed in the corners of my mind—a whisper I couldn't silence. Who were you? I would find out. I wasn't fascinated I told myself, but I had to do it. He wasn't like the others. I felt it. Behind that smile was something calling to me. Something hiding and I was good at finding what hides.
It always starts this way—a pull. A flicker of curiosity. Sadly it never stays that way. It never ends in curiosity. It becomes a game. And I was always determind to win. This time? I'd found the perfect opponent. Him. I thought about our conversation again, as the crowd swallowed me whole.
Some names don't just stay in your head. They dig their way in and this was only the beginning.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
🎭Next part coming Saturday. 🎭
Thank you all for reading 🖤 It means a lot to me.