Shadows of the Spotlight

Chapter 58

The last mile in Arc's South America tour is Buenos Aires. The city feels like a completely different world compared to the vibrant chaos of Rio. The city is grand and elegant, with its wide avenues and European-inspired architecture, its neoclassical buildings and art nouveau facades whispering of a rich history. The tango music floating from the occasional street performer adds a distinct charm to the city, a rhythm that feels both passionate and melancholic.

The next two days are filled with rehearsals, Arc throwing himself into perfecting every detail of his performance. But this time he makes an effort to spend most of his free time with me. During breaks, he finds me, his eyes lighting up whenever we slip away from the noise of the crew.

Sometimes, we curl up on the couch in his suite, his head resting on my shoulder as we watch Xander's series. Other times, I guide him through English lessons, something we've turned into a shared routine. Arc has started reading my books aloud, his voice stumbling over unfamiliar words with a frustration that quickly turns to curiosity.

We end up talking for hours, dissecting words, their meanings, the weirdness of English grammar. It's like a puzzle he's determined to solve, and I'm more than happy to be his guide. But it's not always about work. Sometimes, we just... exist together. I could be catching up on my own work while he sketches down lyrics, the two of us comfortable in the silence.

I make sure he gets enough rest, even when he insists he's fine staying up a little longer. It's become my nightly ritual to drag him to bed before midnight, only to sneak back to my own room when the clock strikes twelve. The thought of anyone spotting me leaving his suite early in the morning is enough to keep my caution alive, no matter how much I want to stay.

The concerts come and go in a blur of lights and screams. Three consecutive days of Arc giving everything he has to the audience, his presence magnetic and unwavering. The fans adore him, their voices rising in a thunderous wave every time he steps onto the stage.

The day after the final concert, Arc has a photoshoot scheduled. Despite the exhaustion still clinging to him, he shines in front of the camera like it's nothing. His professionalism is a force of nature, his every pose precise, his gaze fierce and focused.

He's been on a strict diet for the shoot, his dedication admirable even if it makes me worry. But I keep those worries to myself, letting him do what he needs to do. After all, this is his world, and I'm only a visitor.

By the time the shoot wraps up, we're all ushered into a restaurant where the crew has organized a wrap-up party to celebrate the success of the South America tour. The restaurant itself feels upscale, its décor sleek and modern with dim lights and smooth jazz playing in the background.

We enter the restaurant where the crew seems to have just started with the party. The entire place has been booked for the night, its sleek décor and ambient lighting giving it an air of casual sophistication. Conversations and laughter echo through the space, glasses clinking as people loosen up for the first time in weeks.

The moment Arc, Jihoon, and I step inside, a cheer rises from the crew. It's loud, genuine, a celebration of not just the success of the tour but of surviving the grueling schedule that made it possible. Arc's smile is wide, his usual reserve melting away under the warmth of their enthusiasm.

Someone hands him a glass of beer, and Arc raises it high, his eyes scanning the room before he speaks in Korean. "여기 계신 모든 분들께. 여러분의 노고, 헌신, 인내심 없이는 이 모든 것이 불가능했을 겁니다. 여러분은 정말 대단합니다. 그러니... 진심으로 감사드립니다. (To everyone here. None of this would've been possible without your hard work, your dedication, and your patience. You guys are amazing. So... thank you. From the bottom of my heart.)"