Part 134
The city pulsed again. Lights, cameras, noise — all of it alive and waiting for him.
Adrian had returned to the stage.
Months had passed since his quiet days in the countryside, and now every morning began with schedules stacked so tightly that even his breath felt timed. Interviews, rehearsals, fan meets, commercials — a blur of flashing lights and perfect smiles.
He was everywhere again.
The number one idol.
And this time, he carried himself differently.
No hesitation. No fear. Just focus.
He laughed easily during interviews. Joked with the crew. Signed autographs until his wrist ached. When fans shouted his name, he smiled and waved, that same soft expression that once melted millions.
It wasn't fake. Not anymore.
It was control.
He'd learned to live above the noise, not beneath it.
Sometimes his manager brought up what happened — gently, like testing if an old scar still hurt.
He always brushed it off. "That's over now," he said. "I'm fine."
And it was true. He hadn't thought about her in weeks. Maybe even months.
The doctors told him Alex was somewhere safe, getting help. He'd nodded and moved on. The part of his life with her — the fear, the captivity, the confusion — had become like an old film reel he no longer wanted to replay.
He didn't even notice the little things anymore:
— The single sunflower that appeared in the dressing room one morning.
— The anonymous fan message saying "You look happier, but I still see your sadness."
— The faint perfume that clung to his jacket, one he hadn't smelled since that night.
He told himself it was coincidence.
He had no time for ghosts.
When he looked in the mirror before a show, he saw only the man he'd rebuilt — confident, untouchable, and adored.
The world loved him again.
And for the first time, he almost believed he could love it back.