Serenade in a Coffee Cup

In the Spotlight, Shadows Linger

The sound of thousands of fans chanting Orm's name reverberated through the thick walls of the concert hall. Backstage, the energy was palpable—her team bustling around, finalizing last-minute details, technicians adjusting the sound, and makeup artists offering final touch-ups. It should have been exhilarating, but instead, Orm felt a growing unease settling deep within her chest.

She stood in front of the dressing room mirror, staring at the reflection that had become all too familiar to the world. Orm, the rockstar, adored by fans, an icon in her own right. But behind the layers of makeup and the carefully chosen outfits, there was someone else. Someone tired. Someone scared.

She picked up her phone, scrolling through her messages. No texts from Ling. The silence gnawed at her, amplifying the insecurities she had fought to bury. It wasn't like Ling to go quiet for this long, not after everything they'd been through. But Orm knew Ling had been busier than usual lately, with the café and the so-called "government paperwork."

Orm sighed, setting the phone aside. She knew Ling was hiding something, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. Not yet. Not when everything felt like it could shatter at the slightest pressure. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.

"You've got this," she whispered to herself. But even as the words left her lips, they felt hollow.

A knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts. Her manager peeked in, eyes bright with excitement. "You're up, Orm. The crowd's insane tonight. This is going to be one for the books."

Orm forced a smile and nodded. She knew the drill—go out, perform, dazzle the audience, and leave them wanting more. But as she stepped out of the dressing room and walked toward the stage, the weight on her shoulders felt heavier than ever.

The lights dimmed, and the roar of the crowd grew louder, a sea of voices screaming her name. Orm took her place on stage, the spotlight casting her in an ethereal glow. The opening chords of her hit song echoed through the speakers, and she gripped the microphone, forcing herself to focus.

As the first notes escaped her lips, the familiar rush of adrenaline kicked in, if only momentarily. For a while, she let herself get lost in the music, allowing it to drown out her anxieties. She moved across the stage with practiced ease, her voice soaring, captivating every soul in the audience.

But halfway through the set, something shifted. In the middle of her most emotional ballad, Orm's eyes wandered to the front row, and for a split second, she thought she saw someone familiar. Her breath hitched. The silhouette, the posture—it looked too much like Bright. Her heart pounded in her chest, the memories of his manipulation and betrayal slamming into her like a tidal wave.

She faltered, missing a note—a rare mistake for someone as professional as Orm. Though the crowd didn't seem to notice, the slip echoed in her ears. The image of Bright dissolved, and she realized it wasn't him at all, just her mind playing tricks on her. But the damage was done. The sense of control she had fought to maintain wavered.

The rest of the performance felt like a blur. She finished the set, thanked the crowd, and hurried off stage, her heart still racing.

Backstage, Orm found solace in the solitude of her dressing room. She locked the door, her back pressing against it as she let out a shaky breath. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone, her thumb hovering over Ling's contact.

She wanted to call her, to hear her voice, to feel grounded. But something stopped her. She couldn't bring herself to admit how close she was to breaking. Ling had enough on her plate, and Orm didn't want to add to it. Not now.

Instead, she scrolled down to another contact: Kai.

Orm: Any updates?
Kai: We're close. I've got something solid on Apinan, but it's risky. We need to talk.