Part 132
The first morning back in his own apartment didn't feel real.
Sunlight poured through the blinds — too bright, too free. The sound of the city drifted up from below, alive and indifferent. For a long while, Adrian just sat on the edge of his bed, barefoot, listening.
It was over.
That was what everyone kept saying.
His manager called, his mother cried, the police checked in, the press demanded statements. Every voice said the same thing:
You're safe now.
But the word safe felt strange in his mouth.
It wasn't fear that lingered — not anymore. It was the weight of silence. The same silence that used to mean danger, now replaced by emptiness.
He looked at the mug on the table — chipped, white porcelain. The one from his mother's café. He'd brought it back with him. It reminded him of warmth, of mornings filled with laughter and coffee steam. He tried to cling to that instead of the memory of her voice, the way Alex whispered his name like a prayer.
The world was watching him again.
Every news outlet had something to say. Fans gathered outside the building, chanting for him to "come back." There were flowers at the door — lilies, roses, folded letters tied with ribbons.
He didn't open any of them.
He couldn't.
When he finally sat down for the interview — the one his manager insisted would help "control the narrative" — he smiled. Carefully. Softly.
He said what they wanted to hear.
"I just want peace now."
"I'm grateful for everyone who helped me."
"I'm focusing on healing."
But inside, the words echoed hollow. Because part of him knew — peace was just another performance.
That night, when the lights dimmed and the city hushed, Adrian opened his phone and scrolled through endless articles. He didn't mean to, but he searched her name.
Alex — The Obsession Behind the Idol's Disappearance
Fans divided: Monster or Devoted Fan?
He closed the screen.
Set it face down.
For a long time, he stared at the ceiling, his pulse steady but his chest aching.
Because even now, even after everything — he could still feel her.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, in the quiet between thoughts, she was still there.
Watching.