"Jung Y/N... around you, I don't have to hide or fake a smile. I... I can be myself."
That's what he said to me. That's what I believed.
I never thought I'd mean anything to someone like him. He was a star, a voice I'd adored for as long as I could remember. I had every song of his memorized, every lyric etched into my soul. He didn't just sing—he understood me. His music made the darkness I lived in feel less suffocating, less lonely.
But the man behind the voice?
He wasn't what I imagined.
He was fragile and beautiful, someone who hid his pain behind a carefully crafted image. He told me I was his light, his safe place, the one person who truly knew him. And I believed him—because I wanted to.
But even the brightest stars cast shadows.
And now, I'm left wondering: was I his truth, or just another lie?
