Aarohi's room wasn't much bigger than a closet, but it held more of her soul than any temple ever could. The single window with its rusting grill let in too little sunlight and too much street noise, but inside, the walls told a different story. Not through luxury or decor, but through the quiet devotion of a heart that believed in something distant and bright.
The walls were lined with posters of a single group: SOLARIS.
Not messy or chaotic like some might expect from a teen obsessed with idols. Her posters were neatly arranged, edges straight, laminated to survive dust and monsoon leaks. Above her bed hung a small handmade banner in glittery letters: "SOLARIS, My Forever Light."
Aarohi sat cross-legged on the floor, balancing her notes on her lap, but her eyes drifted to the poster in front of her desk. It was a full-length shot of the group—five members mid-performance, light exploding around them. But her gaze always found him.
Jae-min.
Lead vocalist. The heart of SOLARIS.
His voice had first reached her during her final school exams, years ago, when anxiety had made her breathless and her world felt like it was closing in. A classmate had shared an earbud with her, half-joking.
"Just listen. It helped me sleep."
She hadn't slept that night. She'd listened on repeat.
And something in her cracked open.
It wasn't just the voice, though that voice felt like warm sunlight on cold skin. It was the lyrics. The way his eyes seemed to carry exhaustion and hope all at once. The sincerity of someone who sang like he meant every word.
She'd read every translation, watched every fan cam. Not because she wanted to own him like the obsessive fans she saw online. No. She never even commented under posts or joined arguments. That wasn't what fandom meant to her.
To Aarohi, being a fan meant gratitude. Quiet, unwavering support. A silent prayer for someone to remain whole in a world that devoured people like him.
She'd seen the news: idols collapsing, being stalked, breaking under pressure. And still, Jae-min stood tall.
Sometimes, she wondered if he knew people like her existed—fans who didn't scream, who didn't chase or demand or threaten. Fans who only wanted him to be okay.
Her favorite video wasn't even a concert.
It was a 3-minute clip from an old interview. Jae-min was asked what he wanted to say to his fans. He'd laughed nervously and said, in accented English:
"If even one person feels better because of our songs... then I think we did something right."
Aarohi had saved that clip. Not to replay, but to remember.
She opened a drawer and pulled out her small collection. Not much—a few second-hand albums she bought from a fan group, some postcards, and her most prized possession: a cracked lightstick from the first concert she could never attend.
It was gifted by a fellow fan from Bengaluru who had seen her artwork of SOLARIS online.
"You deserved this," the girl had messaged. "You draw them like you see their souls."
Aarohi had cried.
Now, she touched the lightstick gently, running her fingers over the chipped star-shaped logo.
"SOLARIS," she whispered. "Do you know what your name means to us?"
Meanwhile, in Seoul, the group was preparing for the final leg of their tour.
In a private practice studio, the five members of SOLARIS were rehearsing tirelessly. Jae-min stood in the center, his usually gentle demeanor replaced by sharp focus. Sweat clung to his brow, but he kept moving.
"Five, six, seven, eight!"
They hit their final pose. The music cut.
"Break!"
Jae-min dropped to the floor, grabbing his water bottle. Across from him, their leader, Hyun-woo, raised an eyebrow.
"You're pushing too hard, bro. You okay?"
Jae-min nodded. "Just... dreams. Strange ones."
"Nightmares?"
"Not quite. Just... someone calling me. A girl. But I don't know who she is."
Hyun-woo smirked. "Maybe it's fate. Fan of yours, obviously."
Jae-min didn't smile back. Instead, he stared at his reflection in the mirror.
"Why does it feel like I know her?"
Back in Mumbai, Aarohi tucked the lightstick beneath her pillow. Her eyes lingered on Jae-min's image once more before she whispered:
"Be safe. Be strong. Wherever you are."
And the demon in the shadows whispered back.
"We'll see how long your light lasts."