Shadows Of Stardom

Chapter 51

The vibrations lingered, a ghostly pulse in my chest even after the bass had faded. My fingers throbbed as they hovered over the keyboard, the silent notes taunting me for my inability to produce anything beautiful. My studio, once my sanctuary, now felt like a padded cell. Soundproofed, yes, but it only amplified the echo of my shattered thoughts.

The door clicked open, and I tensed. I already knew it was San. He had been lingering around me all day, a silent, shame-ridden presence. Part of me longed to throw myself into his arms, to cry out and demand answers, while another part, the numb, cauterized side, wished for him to vanish. The conflicting desires clashed within me, making me feel sick.

I stubbornly faced the keyboard, striking another dissonant chord. It resonated like my very soul.

"Jennie," he said, his voice so soft it barely registered, but the tremor in it did. I had never heard San sound so vulnerable before.

The dissonant chord faded abruptly, the ensuing silence ringing loudly in the small space. Slowly, like a rusty puppet, I turned in my chair.

His eyes… Oh, his eyes were a wreck. Red-rimmed, bloodshot, filled with a pain that mirrored the gaping void within me. The sharp angles of his face, which I knew so well, appeared softened, almost blurred by the weight of his remorse. He seemed smaller.

I pushed myself up from the chair and moved towards the sitting area, away from the instrument, and into his line of sight.

"Are you going to tell me why, San?" My voice came out flat, a monotonous drone. It frightened me how little I felt. Anger should have been boiling within me, a seething rage, but all that remained was emptiness, a vast, echoing chasm where my heart used to be.

He stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft, almost reverent click. He didn’t sit down. Instead, he began to pace, like a caged animal trapped in my small studio, his hands clenching and unclenching as if trying to strangle the air. The composed, polished San I knew was gone; this was just a man, broken and desperate.

"I messed up, Jennie. I know that. I… I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am." His words came out in a rush, choked, as if he were forcing them out.

"Sorry?" I scoffed, the sound brittle and harsh. A bitter, humorless laugh scraped against my throat. "Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it, San. You’ve ruined my life. You systematically dismantled everything that mattered to me and turned it to dust. 'Sorry' doesn’t even come close."

He halted his pacing, his body stiffening as if he had been struck. His eyes locked onto mine, pleading and desperate. "I know. And I don’t expect you to forgive me. Not now, maybe not ever. But you deserve the truth. You deserve to know why."

I felt the urge to throw something—perhaps a microphone or his expensive phone. Instead, I sank back into the chair, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.

A desperate effort to keep myself composed when I felt like I was falling apart completely.

"Alright. Just tell me. Explain why you drugged me. Explain why you manipulated me. Explain why you ruined my relationship with Taehyung. I need to know everything." My voice broke on the last word, the thin veneer of control I had threatening to crumble.

San finally took a seat, sinking heavily into the chair across from me. His face was a map of remorse, every line more pronounced than I remembered. He appeared… defeated.