**Sunshine's POV**
The rest of the first week blurred together.
Day four: Magazine shoot, radio interview, late-night rehearsal. I carried equipment until my shoulders screamed. Kael barely spoke to me except to bark orders.
By day eight, I'd stopped counting how many times I'd wanted to quit.
But I didn't.
And that's when people started noticing.
---
Day nine started like all the others— 5:30 AM call time, Kael already in makeup when I arrived with his coffee.
"You're still here," he said flatly.
"Where else would I be?"
He studied me for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. "Most people don't last a week."
"I'm not most people."
His jaw tightened. "Clearly."
Director Han appeared in the doorway. "Kael, we need to talk."
"I'm busy—"
"Now."
He stood, irritated, and followed her into the hallway. I stayed behind, organizing his schedule on my tablet.
Through the partially open door, I heard their voices.
"Nine days," Director Han said. "She's lasted nine days."
"So?"
"So the record before her was six. And that assistant quit crying." A pause. "What are you doing differently with this one?"
"Nothing. She just hasn't broken yet."
"Or maybe you're not trying as hard to break her."
Silence
"She's doing her job. That's it."
"Is it? Because Dr. Yoon called me yesterday. Said you haven't been to therapy in three weeks. You're not taking your medication.
"Don't."
"Someone needs to say it—"
"I said don't." His voice was sharp. "I'm handling it."
"Are you? Because from where I'm standing—"
"I'll go to therapy. This week. Happy?"
A pause. "You mean it?"
"Yes. Now can I get back to work?"
---
**Kael's POV**
I'd agreed to therapy just to shut Director Han up.
But when Sunshine handed me my schedule that afternoon and I saw "Dr. Yoon - 4 PM" penciled in, I felt my chest tighten.
"Who added this?" I asked.
Sunshine looked up from her tablet. "Director Han asked me to. She said it was important."
"I'm busy—"
"Your schedule is clear from four to six. I made sure of it."
She'd rearranged everything. Moved meetings, adjusted rehearsal times. All to get me to therapy.
I should have been angry. Instead, I felt something else. Something uncomfortable.
"Fine," I said. "But you're driving me."
"I don't drive—"
"The car. You're coming in the car. I'm not going alone."
"Oh. Okay."
---
**Sunshine's POV**
The therapy office was in a quiet part of Seoul, tucked away in a building that looked more like a luxury apartment than a medical facility.
Kael sat in the back of the car, silent, his knee bouncing—the first nervous gesture I'd seen from him.
We pulled up. He didn't move.
"Mr. Devereaux?"
"I hate this," he said quietly.
"Therapy?"
"Talking about things that don't matter anymore. Things that are over."
"If they were over, you wouldn't need therapy."
He looked at me sharply, but I held his gaze.
After a moment, he got out.
"Wait in the car. I'll be an hour."
I watched him walk into the building, shoulders tense, like he was walking toward an execution instead of a therapy session.
---
I sat in the car for fifty-three minutes.
My phone buzzed constantly with work emails and schedule updates. I responded to what I could, organized tomorrow's call sheet, confirmed a magazine interview.
My phone rang. Unknown number. Probably spam.
I answered anyway. "Hello?"
Silence, then a click. Spam call.
I went to hang up when Kael's voice suddenly filled the car.
*"I'm breaking in slow motion, can't you see? Every smile's a lie I tell myself..."*
My ringtone. His song "Fracture."
I'd forgotten to silence my phone after the call. The music played for a few seconds before I could grab it and silence it.
That's when I saw him.
Kael stood outside the car, frozen, staring at me through the window.
He'd heard it. He'd heard his own voice as my ringtone.
---
**Kael's POV**
She had my song as her ringtone.
Not just any song. "Fracture." The most personal thing I'd ever written. The one that made me feel raw and exposed every time I performed it.
I got in the car slowly.
Sunshine's face was red. "I'm sorry, I should have had my phone on silent—"
"You're a fan." Not a question. A realization.
"I... yes. I told you that in the interview."
"You said you liked my music. You didn't say..." I gestured vaguely at her phone. "That."
She looked down. "Does it matter?"
Did it?
Most of my assistants had been fans who'd quickly become disillusioned. Who'd realized the reality of Kael Devereaux was nothing like the fantasy.
But Sunshine had lasted nine days. Had seen me at my worst. And she still had my song as her ringtone.
"No," I said finally. "It doesn't matter."
But it did. I just didn't know why yet.
---
**Sunshine's POV**
The evening concert was at an outdoor venue. Five thousand people.
I'd never been to one of Kael's shows before. Could never afford tickets. But tonight, I stood backstage with staff access, watching from the wings.
The other staff members stood around me, scrolling their phones, chatting quietly. They looked bored. Relieved, even.
"Finally, a break from his attitude," one stylist muttered.
"Two hours where we don't have to deal with Mr. Nonchalant," another agreed.
I frowned but said nothing.
The lights went down. The crowd screamed.
And then Kael walked on stage.
The transformation was instant. The tired, irritable man from the car vanished. In his place was Kael Devereaux, the performer. Confident. Magnetic. Alive.
The music started. He moved like he was born on that stage.
I couldn't help it—I started smiling, my heart racing. When he hit the first chorus, I mouthed the words along with him.
The staff member next to me glanced over. "You good?"
"He's amazing," I whispered.
She rolled her eyes. "If you say so."
But I didn't care. I watched, completely mesmerized, as he sang the songs I'd listened to a thousand times. Hearing them live, watching him perform...
It was everything.
During "Fracture," he hit the high note and I felt tears prick my eyes. My hands were clasped together, and I realized I was swaying to the music.
"Oh my god, she's actually enjoying this," someone whispered behind me.
"Does she know all the words?"
"Why is she so into it? It's just Kael."
I ignored them. My eyes never left the stage.
---
**Kael's POV**
Halfway through the set, I glanced toward the wings during a transition.
The staff stood there like they always did. Bored. Waiting for it to be over.
Except for one person.
Sunshine.
She was smiling. Actually smiling. Her lips moved along with the lyrics—she knew every word. Her eyes were bright, focused completely on the performance.
On me.
Not on Kael Devereaux the idol. Not on the persona or the image.
She was watching me the way fans in the crowd watched—with pure, genuine love for the music.
My heart skipped.
I'd performed for thousands of people. Millions, if you counted streams and recordings. But I couldn't remember the last time someone's attention had felt like... that.
Like she actually saw me.
During the final song, I caught her eye again. She was still smiling, still mouthing the words, completely unaware that the other staff were side-eyeing her.
And for the first time in months, I felt something other than emptiness on stage.
I felt seen.
---
**Sunshine's POV**
After the concert, I was still buzzing with energy.
In the dressing room, I handed Kael water without being asked.
"You were amazing tonight," I said, unable to keep the excitement from my voice.
"It's my job."
"No. You were more than professional. You were... alive."
He looked at me, really looked at me, and I saw something shift in his expression.
"You were singing along," he said quietly.
My face heated. "I'm sorry, I should have been more professional—"
"The other staff think I'm insufferable. They use my stage time as a break from dealing with me." He stepped closer. "But you... you were actually watching. Enjoying it."
"Of course I was. Your music is..." I searched for words. "It's why I applied for this job. Not just for the money. Because I wanted to be close to something that made me feel alive."
Something in his chest seemed to crack.
"Thank you," he said, and his voice was softer than I'd ever heard it.
"For what?"
"For making me go to therapy. For still being here. For..." He gestured vaguely toward the stage. "For actually caring. About the music. About... this."
"Always," I said without thinking.
He held my gaze for a long moment, and I felt my heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the concert.
Then his phone rang, shattering the moment.
He glanced at the screen and his entire expression changed. Hardened.
"I need to take this," he said coldly, the warmth from seconds ago completely gone.
He answered as I left. "What?"
Through the door, I heard his voice rise. "That was different—" A pause. "I said I'm handling it!"
I didn't hear the rest. But the shift from the man who'd thanked me to the man shouting on the phone was jarring.
Mr. Nonchalant was back.
And I wondered how long it would be before he pushed me away again.
---
**Director Han's POV**
I watched the concert from the control booth.
Kael had performed well. Better than he had in months, actually.
My phone rang. Dr. Yoon.
"He came," she said. "Actually showed up."
"How did it go?"
"Better than expected. He's still resistant about medication, but he opened up. Just a little. About the pressure. About feeling like he's drowning." A pause. "It's progress. Small, but progress."
"That's good to hear."
"It is. Keep encouraging him to come back. Consistency is key, especially given his history."
"I will."
After she hung up, I pulled up the staff reports on my computer.
Nine days. Sunshine had lasted nine days.
A record.
And watching the way Kael had looked at her tonight during the performance...
Something was shifting.
I just hoped it was shifting in the right direction.
---
**Kael's POV**
My father's voice was ice through the phone.
"The board reviewed your recent performance metrics. They're concerned about your image. About your reliability."
"My image is fine—"
"Is it? Because I'm hearing about cancelled therapy sessions, erratic behavior, that incident at the practice room last week."
How did he always know?
"I'm handling it."
"Like you handled things before? Like when you were fifteen and nearly destroyed everything our family built?"
My chest tightened. "That was different—"
"Was it? Because from where I'm sitting, you're showing all the same warning signs. Get yourself under control, Kael. Or I'll do it for you."
He hung up.
I sat in the empty dressing room, hands shaking, that familiar rage building.
*Don't let it happen again.*
Everyone kept saying that.
Like I had a choice. Like I could control the thing inside me that wanted to destroy everything.
I looked at the pill bottle in my bag. Still unopened.
Maybe they were right.
Maybe I was heading down the same path.
Maybe Sunshine should run before she discovered what I really was.
But when I closed my eyes, all I could see was her face in the wings. Smiling. Singing along. Looking at me like I was worth something.
And for the first time in years, I wanted to try.
Even if I knew I'd probably fail.
--
**END OF CHAPTER 6**