Part 7
It started three months after Berlin — the headlines, the comparisons, the whispers.
A new voice had entered the stage: Ethan Vale, twenty-four, handsome, unpredictable, and fearless.
His fans called him "the mirror of Adrian."
The media loved it — the two idols, side by side.
The golden star versus the rising flame.
Adrian saw the first interview clip one morning while getting dressed for rehearsal.
Ethan's voice came through the TV, calm but sharp:
"Adrian's incredible, of course. But the industry needs new energy.
People deserve something real — not just perfection."
The reporter laughed. "Are you saying Adrian isn't real?"
Ethan smiled. "I'm saying he's untouchable. I'm not."
Adrian turned off the screen.
His reflection in the mirror looked the same — polished, perfect — but something behind his smile tightened.
A month later, they performed at the same award show.
Backstage was a blur of lights, stylists, and reporters buzzing between them.
Ethan walked by with his team, caught Adrian's eye, and nodded.
"Big fan," he said, voice smooth, almost sincere.
"Appreciate it," Adrian replied.
But as they passed each other, he heard Ethan murmur,
"Let's see who they're really watching tonight."
That night, Ethan performed a song called "Glass Idol."
The lyrics cut deep — a love song twisted into a warning, about a star so bright it burned itself hollow.
The crowd screamed for him.
When Adrian stepped onstage next, he didn't speak a word.
He just sang.
Every note hit harder, colder, sharper.
By the final chorus, the audience was crying.
Online, fans split overnight.
#TeamAdrian versus #TeamEthan flooded every feed.
Rumors started. Articles dissected every stare, every lyric, every subtle jab in interviews.
Adrian stayed silent through it all, but inside, something old and restless began to stir — the same tension he'd felt months ago when Mira first appeared.
The same unease that came from being watched too closely.
One night, after another exhausting rehearsal, his phone buzzed with a new message.
No name. Just a sunflower emoji and a single sentence:
Don't worry, love. I'll make sure you stay on top.
Adrian's blood ran cold.
He stared at the screen for a long time — torn between relief and fear.
Because part of him still believed she was gone.
Another part is uncertain as to whether it was her or not?