Shadows of the Spotlight

Chapter 53

After fleeing Arc's room, the rest of the day goes on as normal. Between rehearsals and costume fittings, I help Arc practice the sentences he wants to say to the audience. He picks up a few phrases quickly, and by the time the concert starts, he's able to deliver them smoothly.

For me, the night brings a whole new challenge—my first live audience session. Translating in real-time during the concert is more intense than I expected. I have to listen to the audience's questions, translate them into Korean for Arc through his in-ear, then translate his response back to English for the crowd—all in a quick succession. It becomes even trickier when a Spanish-speaking fan steps up, forcing me to add another layer of translation so the rest of the audience can understand. It's fast-paced, high-pressure, and exhausting, but strangely exhilarating at the same time.

he next two days of the concert follow a similar rhythm—a relentless cycle of performances, fan interactions, and travel logistics. Arc and I barely get a moment alone, our exchanges limited to hurried conversations about schedules, language practice, and work. By the time we return to the hotel each night, exhaustion weighs down on us, and we retreat to our respective rooms without much conversation.

So when a bodyguard suddenly approaches me with a sealed envelope in hand, just as Arc takes his final bow on the last night of the concert, I'm caught completely off guard.

The crowd erupts into cheers, their voices echoing through the venue. I stay at my post, making sure the translation flows smoothly until the very end. The energy in the air is electrifying, but my body is drained, my mind already drifting to thoughts of crashing into bed for the next twelve hours.

"This is for you," the bodyguard says, handing me the envelope.

I blink, confused, as I take it from him. The paper is thick, expensive, with my name written in neat, familiar handwriting.

Tonight, I'm taking you on a date. The bodyguard will take you to the hotel first so you can get ready. I'll pick you up in 40 minutes.

My breath catches. A date? With Arc? I blink, reading the words again just to make sure I'm not hallucinating from exhaustion.

The bodyguard clears his throat. "Miss, we should leave now."

Still in shock, I nod and follow him out of the venue. The entire car ride back, my mind is a whirlwind. A date. Arc planned a date.

As soon as I step into my hotel room, the panic sets in. I fling open my suitcase, rifling through my clothes. Jeans. T-shirts. Oversized sweaters. Not a single dress. I wasn't expecting to need one—I packed for work, not for... a date.

My heart pounds as I check the time. Ten minutes wasted panicking, and I still have no outfit. Just as I'm about to accept my fate and throw on the least casual top I own, there's a knock at the door.

I hurry to open it, and a hotel staff member stands there with a bag. "This was sent for you."

Another card is attached.

I knew you'd be panicking about what to wear, so I figured I'd make things easier. Please wear this.

I open the bag and pull out a stunning red dress. It's knee-length, made of smooth, flowing fabric that drapes beautifully over the body. The neckline is a modest sweetheart cut, framing the collarbone elegantly without being too revealing. The sleeves are sheer, delicately embroidered with tiny shimmering details that catch the light when I move. It's sophisticated yet effortlessly sexy, hugging my figure just right without being too tight.

I run my fingers over the fabric, my chest tightening. He thought this through.

Without wasting any more time, I quickly changed into the dress. My hair has been in a braid all day, so I brush it out, and miraculously, it falls into soft waves. I swipe on a light layer of lipstick, adding just a touch of color.