Jin stood alone in the open clearing as the world around him erupted into chaos. The wind howled, the sky split with flashes of lightning, and two figures clashed, locked in a furious battle, both eyes fixed on him.
They were supposed to be fighting for him.
To save him, to conquer him – that’s what they claimed. He was the precious figure they battled over, the heart of this grand story. Yet, the longer Jin watched them, the clearer it became that their intense gazes weren’t really directed at him. Instead, they seemed focused on something far beyond the world he inhabited, something he could also sense but couldn’t quite reach.
> "Why does this feel so empty?" he wondered, the thought barely a whisper in his mind.
Jin closed his eyes, feeling something – someone – observing him from afar. A presence lingering over each word, watching his every move with an intensity that sent a strange warmth through him. But it wasn't the hero or the villain, it was someone else entirely. Jin could almost feel their gaze, tracing his thoughts, feeling his emotions. And he knew – somehow, in his core – that this invisible observer was his real audience.
> "Namjoon," he thought, the name appearing in his mind as if it had always been there, stitched between the lines of his existence.
Namjoon. The reader.
It was for Namjoon that he existed, for whom every thought and feeling had been crafted. And yet… Namjoon would never know him as more than ink on paper, just another character meant to entertain, to be forgotten once the last page turned.
---
The days that followed were woven with a quiet ache that Jin couldn’t escape. He went through the motions of his story, speaking the lines he was given, moving where he was meant to go, all the while feeling that same presence hovering just beyond his world.
The hero would come to him, confess his undying love, declaring that Jin was the reason he fought so fiercely. But Jin could see the lie in his eyes. The hero was speaking to someone else, his declarations meant to captivate the reader’s heart, not Jin’s.
As the villain’s hand reached out to capture him, whispering promises of power and darkness, Jin felt the hollowness in those words, too. It wasn’t truly him the villain wanted. It was her – Namjoon, the one reading, the one holding his world together.
The jealousy gnawed at him, a bitter, consuming ache that twisted his thoughts. But it wasn’t because Namjoon held the attention of the hero or the villain. In truth, Jin barely even noticed them anymore. His own focus had long drifted to a presence far beyond the pages of his world, one that warmed him, made him feel real, if only for a moment.
No, what filled Jin with jealousy was knowing that he wasn’t the only one who could feel Namjoon. The hero’s impassioned gaze, the villain’s dark, lingering looks—both of them reached for that same presence, reveling in the awareness of being watched. Jin’s heart ached with the desire to believe he was special to Namjoon, more than just another name on the page. But the truth loomed over him, undeniable and harsh: he wasn’t the only one who could feel Namjoon’s gaze. Others could, too.
The thought hollowed him out. He wanted to be more, to be the one who mattered to Namjoon, to have that silent connection belong to him alone. But he was helpless, bound to a story that forced him to share Namjoon’s attention, even as his heart yearned to hold it entirely.
> "Do I even exist outside his gaze?" Jin asked the silence, feeling the weight of his own question settle like an ache in his chest.
---
