My boyfriend is a Top Star

We met at that highly anticipated concert.

The ticket wasn't bought by me, it was given by a fellow streamer from the same MCN. She had extra live streams added to her schedule and couldn't make it to Thailand, so I happened to pick up this opportunity.

If I had known that concert would uncover so many dark secrets in the entertainment industry, I wouldn't have gone. Even if I had gone, I shouldn't have stepped onto the stage when he reached out his hand for interaction.

That day, he wore a blue suit embedded with countless shimmering stars.

To be honest, I wasn't a fan of his before, but the way he shone on stage, even a passerby like me would be dazzled by his brilliance.

That day, my friends and I had visited the night market before heading to his concert. Although Thailand was hot, the temperature dropped slightly in the morning and evening, so I wore a smoky purple camisole with a denim jacket over it.

When we reached the front row of the VIP section that night, it was still hot with so many people around. I listened to the girls next to me screaming his name, "Kyle! Kyle!" It was quite overwhelming. I didn't know the lyrics to his songs, but I could feel the rhythm, so I swayed with the crowd.

I never expected that when he turned in our direction, his gaze seemed to lock onto me and he began to walk towards us.

It must have been an illusion. There were so many people in my direction. I watched him walk towards me and glanced at the fans beside me, who were screaming his name and instinctively stepped back.

I thought he was reaching out to interact with his fans, not with someone like me who just happened to be there.

But I was wrong. He stared into my eyes. Even though I avoided his gaze, he kept walking towards me, step by step, descending from the stage, surrounded by four security guards who shielded him closely.

As he sang into the microphone, he extended his hand towards me. It was an inviting gesture.

I panicked and felt utterly lost, my eardrums nearly bursting from the screams of the fans beside me.

"He's calling you up, girl! Ahhh, I'm so jealous!" A fan beside me patted my shoulder, pushing me forward just as I was about to step back.

I didn't remember how he took my hand or how he led me onto the stage under the security's protection.

At that moment, my heart seemed to stop. In a concert with tens of thousands of people, the lights and the fans' screams overwhelmed me. It was his hand holding mine, his gaze fixed on me and he whispered in my ear, "Don't be afraid."

His hand was warm and comforting, like soothing a frightened fawn. He led me onto the stage, guiding me to a tall stool and gesturing for me to sit.

It wasn't until I was on stage that I realized how different the view was compared to being in the audience. The lights shone directly on the stage, blindingly bright. The audience below was just a vast white blur, with only the glowing support lights visible in the distance. In this venue of tens of thousands, he was the only person I could see, this dazzling star.

It was my first time standing on such a grand stage and I was face-to-face with a top-tier star. I was so nervous that I was trembling, clutching my denim jacket while sitting on the stool, wrapping my arms around myself to hide my anxiety.

He held a red diamond microphone, continuing to sing. By then, I had no idea what song he was singing. I just remembered him circling around me, moving from front to back. His right hand brushed through my hair, resting lightly on my shoulder. I wondered if he noticed how much I was trembling at that moment.

When he came around to the front again, he pulled me up from the stool with one hand, taking my denim jacket from my arms, where I had been holding it to hide my nerves and placing it on the stool.

I felt even more helpless and in the next moment, he embraced me in front of tens of thousands of people, under countless lights.

He gently patted my back with his right hand, signaling me not to be nervous.

At that moment, I knew I was falling for him.