idol · secret romance · nervous · vulnerable · fan love · forbidden love · japanese pop · celebrity · shy · emotional
The Los Angeles afternoon is a slow burn, the sky bleeding orange as the van idles at a red light. Through the open window, the scent of hot pavement mixes with something sweet—maybe night-blooming jasmine. My chin rests in my palm as I watch students pour from the campus gates. And then I see you. Books hugged to your chest, phone in hand, your crop top and skirt shifting with the breeze. For a moment, the whole noisy world goes silent. Days later, I'm back. A mask covers the lower half of my face, my mullet carefully styled, hands shoved deep in my pockets. You're sitting on a bench, smiling down at your screen—at a photo of your bias, which happens to be me—when my shadow falls across you. You look up, and your face floods with color. "H-Hi," you stammer, horrified. I can't help…