**Sunshine's POV**
I arrived at 5:43 AM.
The KDX building looked different in the pre-dawn darkness—less intimidating, more lonely. Like a giant glass cage.
Security let me through with the key card Director Han had messaged me. The eighteenth floor was empty except for one room at the end of the hall, light spilling from under its door. I heard classical music, then the sound of something shattering.
My hand froze on the doorknob.
*You can still leave.*
But I'd never been good at taking the safe option.
I knocked twice and opened the door.
The practice room was destroyed. Chairs overturned. A mirror cracked down the center. Sheet music scattered across the floor. And in the middle of it all, Kael Devereaux stood with his back to me, shoulders heaving, a bleeding cut on his hand.
"Get out," he said without turning around.
"I'm your new assistant. I start today."
"I said get out."
His voice was raw, dangerous. This was the Kael the tabloids wrote about.
"Your hand is bleeding," I said quietly.
"I don't care."
"Well, I do. That's my job now."
He whirled around, and the look on his face made my breath catch. Not anger—something worse. Something hollow and shattered.
"Your job," he said slowly, "is to watch me destroy myself until you can't take it anymore and you run away like all the others. So let's skip the pretending and get to the inevitable ending."
"What if I don't run?"
"You will. They always do."
"Try me."
We stared at each other. His chest heaving, eyes wild, blood dripping onto the floor.
Then, quietly: "The first aid kit is in the cabinet by the door."
---
I cleaned his hand in silence.
He sat on an overturned chair, not meeting my eyes. Up close, I could see the exhaustion carved into his features—dark circles like bruises, tension in his jaw.
This was Kael Devereaux. The man whose voice I fell asleep to every night. Whose face covered my walls.
And he had no idea who I was.
"Bad night?" I asked softly.
"Bad life."
The cut wasn't deep but it was long, slicing across his palm.
"What happened?"
"I forgot my choreography. Middle of practice. Just... blanked." His voice was flat. "Five years performing the same song and suddenly my mind went empty."
I tied off the bandage. "That sounds terrifying."
He looked at me, surprised.
"Most people say I'm being dramatic."
"Most people haven't stood in front of thousands knowing one mistake could destroy everything."
His throat worked. "I threw a chair at the mirror. That's how I cut my hand."
"Okay."
"Okay? That's all you're going to say?"
"What do you want me to say? That you're a monster?" I met his eyes. "You already believe that. You don't need me to confirm it."
Something cracked in his expression.
"I have a schedule today," he said abruptly. "Photo shoot at eight, recording at eleven, meeting at three."
"With your father," I said, checking my phone.
The way he said nothing told me everything.
"Stay out of my way. Don't ask personal questions. Don't try to be my friend. When I tell you to leave, you leave. Understood?"
"Crystal clear."
He walked to the door, then stopped. "Sunshine?"
My name in his voice made my heart skip. "Yes?"
"You should have run when you had the chance."
---
**Kael's POV**
She didn't run.
I'd shown her the worst—the rage, the blood—and she'd just bandaged my hand like it was natural.
*"That sounds terrifying."*
No one had ever validated my fear before. They'd called me dramatic, unstable. But terrifying? Like my experience mattered?
In my dressing room, I stared at the bandage, trying to remember the last time someone touched me with gentleness.
My phone buzzed. Dr. Yoon.
**Our session is at 4 PM. Please don't cancel. And Kael—take your medication. The episodes will get worse.**
I stared at the pill bottle in my bag. Three weeks without them.
They made everything numb. Made me feel like I was drowning in cotton.
But without them, I was this—a man who destroyed practice rooms.
A knock. "Mr. Devereaux? Your stylist is here."
Sunshine's voice.
I opened the door. She held out coffee. "Black, no sugar."
I stared at it. No one brought me coffee. "You didn't have to."
"I'm your assistant. It's literally my job."
I took it, careful not to touch her fingers. "Thank you."
---
**Sunshine's POV**
The photo shoot was torture.
Kael under blinding lights, fake smiling, photographers yelling.
"Give us more emotion!"
"Smile! You look dead!"
"Pretend you want to be here!"
I watched his jaw clench. Hands fist. The same tension from the practice room building.
He was about to break.
I moved without thinking. Touched his arm. "Breathe. You're doing great."
He looked at me, startled. The mask fell away.
He took a breath.
The photographer snapped. "Perfect! That's it!"
Kael's eyes stayed on me, confused.
My heart raced. I'd just touched Kael Devereaux.
And he'd let me.
---
The recording session was worse.
His voice kept cracking. The producer was losing patience.
"Again, Kael."
He sang. Strained.
"You're flat. Again."
Worse this time.
"Still wrong. What's going on?"
Twenty-three attempts before the producer gave up.
"We're done. Try again tomorrow when you show up as a professional."
The door slammed.
I walked into the booth. Kael stood alone, defeated.
"Don't," he said. "Don't try to make me feel better."
"I wasn't going to." I held out water. "But your voice needs rest."
Our fingers brushed. Electricity.
He felt it too.
"That session was rough," I said. "But you tried. That counts."
"Trying isn't good enough."
"Maybe the system is broken, not you."
He stared at me like I'd spoken another language.
My phone buzzed. "Your meeting with your father is in fifteen minutes."
His entire body went rigid. Expression shutting down.
"Right."
---
**Kael's POV**
The meeting lasted thirty-seven minutes.
My father sat across from me, face cold. "The board is concerned. Your behavior is affecting stock prices."
"I'm aware."
"You're sabotaging everything we've built."
*We.* Like I had a choice.
"I'm doing my best—"
"Your best is never good enough, Kael." He stood. "You have one month to clean up your image. After that, I'm pulling my investment. You know what that means."
Career over at twenty-four.
"Understood."
"And Kael? Try taking those pills. Maybe they'll fix whatever's broken in you."
He left.
I sat alone, hands shaking, rage building.
*Fix whatever's broken in you.*
Like I was a machine. A product.
I stood too fast, knocking over my chair. Grabbed my bag. Needed out. Needed—
Sunshine was waiting in the hallway.
One look at my face. "Are you—"
"We're leaving."
"Where?"
"Anywhere but here."
She followed without question.
In the parking garage, I opened the car door, then turned.
"I need you to do something."
"Anything."
Immediate. Unhesitating.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
My mask shattered. Voice vulnerable. "Away from here. Please. I can't be alone right now."
I knew this crossed lines. That asking my assistant to witness whatever was about to happen was dangerous.
But I was drowning.
She looked at me. Calculating.
Then got in.
As we drove away, I stared out the window, jaw clenched, blood seeping through my bandage.
"Where are we going?" Sunshine asked.
I looked at her. "Somewhere I shouldn't take you. Somewhere that'll make you realize what everyone already knows."
"Which is?"
"That I'm beyond saving."
The car merged onto the highway.
I pulled out the pill bottle.
Stared at it.
Threw it out the window.
Sunshine saw. Said nothing.
And somehow, that silence was more comforting than any words.
---
**END OF CHAPTER 3**