The Watcher
She wasn't like the others.
That was the first thing he thought when he saw her again—not on stage, not on screen, but in a photo, laughing in the sunlight.
She had changed.
She used to be unreachable, a pretty doll tucked into the corners of magazines and fan videos. Her voice soft. Her image fragile. Her smile tailored for strangers.
He had known her before anyone else.Before the world turned her into Léa.
Back when she still worked part-time, when she handed him receipts with that careful politeness, when she didn't yet know how to pretend.
She had smiled at him once.
And that was enough.
He had followed her career quietly. Bought every single Velvet Bloom album. Attended fan events without speaking. Watched fancams late into the night, cataloguing every slight change in expression.
Then she disappeared.
Dropped from the spotlight. Disbanded. Vanished.
He searched forums. Scanned tabloids. Waited.
And one day—there she was again.
On Chloe Westwood's page.
Wearing a vintage dress. Standing in the dirt.
Too close to someone who didn't deserve her. Too beautiful to be wasted in some countryside house where no one could see her.
She didn't belong there.
She belonged to the ones who had always loved her.To him.
He was careful. Always was.
He didn't do anything reckless. Just watched. A few hours at first. Then more.When she walked, he followed. When she went to the market, he waited at a distance.
Once, he found a footprint in the garden and stepped where she had stepped.
That night, he stood outside her window and watched her sing to herself while she watered the plants.
She was happy.And it made him furious.
Then he showed up.
The rich man from the parties. The one who never smiled at her in public.Now staying next door.
Pretending to care.
The way she looked at him… it twisted everything inside him.
She had been pure. Untouched. Alone.
Now she was cooking for him. Laughing with him. Smiling again—but not for her fans. Not for him.
For someone who hadn't earned her.
He knew what people would say.
That he was unstable. That he was wrong.
But wasn't it more wrong that someone like her could be taken by someone who hadn't suffered with her?Hadn't protected her when she fell?Hadn't watched her star dim for years and still adored the shadows?
So he decided to remind her.
Remind her of who truly cared.
He tried the lock once. Just once. Quietly.
He didn't mean to hurt her.He just wanted her to understand.
But then he came out of the house.
And she ran to him.
The moment shattered.
Suddenly, he wasn't the watcher anymore.
He was the villain.
The one with the knife. The one with the plan. The one she would never forgive.
He fled into the trees, heart pounding, the illusion broken.
They would say he was obsessed. Sick. Twisted.
But the truth?
He was just another fan.
One who watched too long.Listened too closely.And forgot that loving from afar…
…doesn't mean you're invited to step inside.