Shadows of the Spotlight

Chapter 72

After the London Fashion Show, we flew straight to Amsterdam to meet the crew for the next leg of Arc's tour. I was nervous when we landed in Amsterdam, but was surprised by the number of Security guards that we had in the airport. They did a very good job of maintaining peace and the fans even seemed to be much more behaved as compared to the crowd in New York. There was no pause for rest—no breather between cities. As soon as we landed, we headed directly to the venue, where Arc jumped into rehearsals without missing a beat.

The schedule followed a familiar rhythm: two days of intensive practice, followed by a single night for the concert. That left the following day free—a rarity we decided to make the most of by sightseeing around Amsterdam.

I started to suspect that the camera crew had begun to pick up on something between Arc and me. Though they were supposed to be filming content for the documentary, they often kept their cameras off or conveniently pointed elsewhere when it was just the two of us. Occasionally, they'd record a quick scenic shot of us at new locations, but more often than not, they seemed to give us space—offering an unspoken kind of privacy.

Despite the constant travel and packed schedules, we hardly had any time that truly felt like ours. Yet Arc had become increasingly cheeky in public—crafting excuses to talk to me alone, only to steal a kiss or pull me into a secluded corner just to make out. Sneaking around with him made me feel like one of the high school students I teach—the ones who think they're pulling a fast one on the teacher while hiding their relationships in plain sight.

Since I had a roommate during the trip, we couldn't spend nights together. But Arc did everything he could to stay close. That often meant staying up late just to talk and then waking early to steal a few moments before the day officially began.

From Amsterdam, we traveled to Brussels by road, settling into the now-familiar routine: two days of rehearsals, one concert night, followed by a day of exploring the city. It was hectic, exhausting, and beautiful all at once. Everything was running like clockwork—until we were scheduled to leave for Milan.

We were supposed to catch an early morning flight to Milan for the next fashion show, but last-minute delays threw everything off track. The flight was pushed to the afternoon, compressing an already tight schedule. But what could have easily turned chaotic was handled with surprising grace.

I was genuinely in awe of how the team pulled together under pressure. Jihoon coordinated with the designers to have Arc's outfit delivered directly to the airport. As soon as we landed, Jihye and her assistant transformed a corner of the airport bathroom into a makeshift dressing room. Arc got changed right there. There was no time to rest or regroup. We headed straight to the fashion show from the airport.

Arc wasn't scheduled to walk the ramp this time, but he was still the focal point of the event— which meant interviews, photo sessions and constant attention of the media. Even after more than two weeks of non-stop work, a string of shows, sleepless nights, and now this whirlwind arrival, Arc stepped into the venue and under the spotlight looking like he'd been plucked from the pages of a fashion editorial. There was no trace of exhaustion, no crack in his poise. Under the bright lights, he looked composed, every bit of the celebrity.

By the time we left the after-party, it was well past midnight. Once we got to Arc's room, he insisted he had something to tell me. So I waited on the sofa while he went to remove his makeup and change.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, he was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts.

"Arc, put on a T-shirt," I said, glancing toward the door. "It'll look bad if anyone walks in."

"Everyone's asleep. No one's going to come in at this hour," he replied with that familiar confidence, then reached for my hand, gently pulling me up from the sofa.