**Sunshine's POV**
Day three started at 5:47 AM when my alarm went off.
I dragged myself out of bed, my body already protesting. Two days with Kael Devereaux and I felt like I'd run a marathon while carrying bricks.
By 5:55, I was on the bus, Kael's voice playing through my earbuds. "Sanctuary" this time—one of his older songs that always made my chest ache.
*"In the spotlight I'm so cold, but you'd never know..."*
How fitting.
---
I arrived at KDX at 6:02 AM. Kael was already in his dressing room, sitting perfectly still while a makeup artist worked on his face.
"You're late," he said without opening his eyes.
"I'm early. The call time was six."
"For you, maybe. For me, it means you should've been here at five-thirty."
I bit back a response. "Noted. What do you need?"
"Coffee. Black, no sugar. And check with the stylist—make sure they brought the right outfit for the interview. Last time they brought the wrong jacket and we wasted twenty minutes."
"Got it."
"And call Director Han. Confirm the music show timing. I don't trust what they sent."
I pulled out my tablet, already making notes.
"Also, I need you to—" His phone rang. He glanced at it and his expression darkened. "Handle that. I'm not available."
The makeup artist worked in silence as I juggled tasks, typing with one hand while holding my coffee in the other.
This was going to be a long day.
---
**Kael's POV**
The morning interview was at a popular radio station downtown.
As our car pulled up, I could see them—fans lined up behind barriers, holding signs, phones ready. At least thirty of them despite the early hour.
"Mr. Devereaux, are you ready?" the manager asked.
I assembled my mask. The smile. The casual wave. The persona of Kael Devereaux, beloved idol.
"Always."
---
**Sunshine's POV**
The moment Kael stepped out of the car, the screaming started.
"KAEL! KAEL! OVER HERE!"
"WE LOVE YOU!"
"OPPA! PLEASE LOOK AT ME!"
I followed behind him, arms loaded with his things—a garment bag with a backup outfit, his water bottle, his phone charger, a folder with interview notes Director Han had prepared, and my tablet for managing his schedule.
Security pushed through the crowd. Fans reached over the barriers, phones flashing. Kael walked through it all with that perfect smile plastered on his face, waving mechanically.
But I was close enough to see his jaw clenched. The tension in his shoulders. The way his smile never reached his eyes.
Mr. Nonchalant. That's what they called him. And watching him now, I understood why.
He looked completely detached, like he was somewhere else entirely while his body went through the motions.
---
Inside the station, the energy shifted.
"Kael! So good to see you!" The host—a woman in her thirties with too-bright lipstick—greeted him with exaggerated enthusiasm.
"Thanks for having me," Kael replied smoothly, his smile perfect.
I stood off to the side with the other staff, still holding all his things. My arms were starting to hurt.
The interview started. Standard questions about his upcoming album, his inspirations, his daily routine.
Kael answered like he'd done this a thousand times. Polite. Charming. Completely fake.
"So, Kael, fans are dying to know—is there someone special in your life?"
His smile didn't waver. "My music is my only love right now."
The host giggled. "Always so dedicated! But surely you must get lonely sometimes?"
"I'm too busy to be lonely."
Lie. I'd seen his destroyed practice room. His empty house. The hollow look in his eyes.
The interview continued. More questions. More perfect answers. More of Kael Devereaux being exactly what everyone expected him to be.
When it ended, his smile dropped the second the cameras turned off.
"Let's go," he said flatly.
---
The music show was chaos.
Backstage was packed with staff, other idols, dancers, and coordinators all rushing around in organized pandemonium.
"Kael! Makeup touch-up in five!"
"Where's the mic pack?"
"Someone get him water!"
I scrambled to keep up, trying to anticipate what he needed before he asked.
"Sunshine." His voice cut through the noise.
"Yes?"
"I need the in-ear monitors. They gave me the wrong ones."
I dug through the equipment bag. Found them. Handed them over.
"And where's my phone? I need to check something."
I'd been holding it. Gave it to him.
"Coffee."
I'd already gotten it. Passed it over.
He took it without thanking me and walked toward hair and makeup.
A staff member bumped into me, nearly knocking the garment bag from my arms.
"Sorry! Crazy day, right?"
"Yeah," I managed.
Crazy didn't even begin to cover it.
---
**Kael's POV**
Performing was the only time I felt like I could breathe.
The stage lights. The music pulsing through the speakers. The choreography my body knew by heart.
For three minutes and forty-two seconds, I wasn't Kael Devereaux, troubled idol with a dark past. I was just... music.
The camera focused on my face during the bridge. I knew exactly where to look, exactly how to angle my expression. Fans always said I looked cold on stage. Detached.
They had no idea how hard I worked to look that way. How much effort it took to appear effortless.
The song ended. I held my pose until the camera cut away.
Then I was just tired again.
---
**Sunshine's POV**
After the music show, we had a two-hour break before the afternoon photo shoot.
Kael retreated to his dressing room. I stood outside, managing the parade of staff who needed his attention.
"Can he approve these concepts?"
"We need his signature here."
"What's his availability next week?"
I fielded questions, took messages, updated schedules. My phone rang constantly. My arms ached from carrying equipment. I hadn't eaten since a protein bar at 6 AM.
But every time I glanced through the dressing room door, I saw Kael sitting alone, staring at nothing.
The smile was gone. The persona dropped. Just a tired, empty-looking man in an expensive outfit.
"Miss? Miss!"
I turned. A young fan—maybe sixteen—had somehow gotten backstage. She clutched a letter and a small gift box.
"I'm sorry, you can't be back here—"
"Please! I just want to give this to Kael oppa! Please, I've been a fan for three years and I never get to—"
Security appeared, gently guiding her away. She was crying.
I stood there holding her letter and gift, watching her get escorted out.
This was the reality behind the screaming crowds and perfect Instagram posts. Fans who'd never get close. An idol who'd never let them.
---
The photo shoot was the worst part of the day.
Three outfit changes. Different concepts. Moody. Bright. Casual. Formal.
"Kael, give us more energy!"
"Smile! Come on, show us something!"
"You look dead. Wake up!"
I watched from the sidelines as photographer after photographer tried to get something real from him.
But Kael just cycled through the same three expressions. Neutral. Slight smile. Intense stare.
All perfectly calculated. All completely empty.
Between shots, I rushed over with water, with his phone, with whatever he needed.
"The jacket's too tight," he said.
I called the stylist.
"I need different lighting."
I relayed it to the photographer.
"Where's Director Han? Get her on the phone."
I dialed.
Everything he said was a command. No "please." No "thank you." Just expectations that I'd handle it.
By 6 PM, I was ready to collapse.
---
**Kael's POV**
In the car ride back to KDX, I finally let myself slouch.
Fourteen hours. I'd been "on" for fourteen hours straight.
Smiling. Waving. Answering questions. Posing. Performing.
Being Kael Devereaux, the idol.
I glanced at Sunshine in the seat across from me. She looked exhausted—dark circles forming under her eyes, hair slightly messy, clutching that tablet like a lifeline.
She'd kept up. Barely. But she'd kept up.
Most assistants would've quit by now or at least complained.
She'd done neither.
"You did okay today," I heard myself say.
She looked up, surprised. "Thank you."
I turned to stare out the window. "Tomorrow starts at five-thirty. Don't be late."
"I won't be."
---
**Sunshine's POV**
I got home at 8 PM.
My mother was in the kitchen, cooking. My stepfather was already drunk on the couch, yelling at the TV.
I slipped into my room without either of them noticing.
My arms hurt. My feet hurt. My head hurt.
I dropped my bag and collapsed on my bed, staring up at Kael's posters.
Three days. I'd survived three days of Kael Devereaux's world.
The screaming fans. The fake smiles. The constant demands. The exhausting schedule.
And underneath it all, the sadness. The emptiness. The mask he wore that everyone believed was real.
My phone buzzed. A schedule from Director Han for tomorrow.
**5:30 AM call time. Magazine shoot. Press conference. Evening rehearsal.**
Another brutal day.
I should quit. Find a normal job with normal hours and a boss who didn't look like he was slowly dying inside.
Instead, I set my alarm for 4:45 AM.
Because despite the exhaustion, despite the demands, despite everything...
I'd seen him on stage today. For those three minutes and forty-two seconds, I'd watched him come alive.
And I understood why I was obsessed.
Because underneath Mr. Nonchalant, underneath the cold persona everyone believed in...
There was someone worth saving.
I just had to survive long enough to reach him.
---
**END OF CHAPTER 5**