Part 78
(Adrian's POV)
It started quietly.
A new face here and there — customers who smiled too wide, asked too many questions. At first, he thought nothing of it. The shop had always welcomed travelers, after all.
But then came the phones.
And the whispers.
"Excuse me," a girl asked one morning, pretending to look at the menu. "Your voice… have you ever been told you sound like Adrian?"
He smiled politely, shaking his head. "I get that sometimes."
But then another customer asked. Then two more. Then a group came in together, giggling behind their masks, taking pictures of their drinks — and him.
By the end of the week, there was no pretending anymore.
The quiet café that once served a handful of locals now buzzed with strangers. Cars parked along the road. Tourists pretending to "stumble upon" the place, each one holding their phone like a camera ready to catch a ghost.
His mother didn't understand at first. She was happy for the business, confused by his tension.
"It's good, isn't it? You've brought life here," she said one morning, watching another wave of visitors line up outside.
But Adrian couldn't breathe.
Every "customer" who smiled at him felt like a spotlight.
Every camera flash behind a cup of coffee made his skin crawl.
He spoke less, avoided eye contact, kept his cap low.
And yet, it wasn't enough.
One afternoon, a teenage girl approached him shyly, holding her phone out.
"I'm sorry, but… you are him, right? Adrian? The Adrian?"
He froze. The café went quiet. Everyone turned.
He wanted to lie — but the look in her eyes stopped him.
It wasn't the look of curiosity. It was devotion.
The same look he'd seen a thousand times before — the one that said you belong to us.
He exhaled. "No," he said softly. "You're mistaken."
But she smiled like she didn't believe a word.
"It's okay. I won't tell anyone."
Then she took a photo anyway.
By nightfall, the internet had new proof.
The missing idol wasn't missing anymore.
Posts flooded in:
"He's in a small café in the countryside!"
"We found Adrian!"
Adrian watched it unfold helplessly from the back room, scrolling through hundreds of photos of himself — some recent, some from hours ago.
His mother found him sitting in the dark. "Adrian?"
He forced a small, trembling smile. "I think… it's time to close for a while, Mom."
Because he knew what would come next.
The fans would multiply.
The reporters would follow.
And if the world had found him — then she surely had too.
Outside, the shop sign swayed softly in the wind.
The calm was gone.
The noise had found him again.