🎵 Suggested Background Music: [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ZEVxPQO-1jIQEOsC-T2c6OOqHrQCoCRj/view?usp=sharing]
The rest of the week went by in a haze of rehearsals and exhaustion. I didn't see Arata again in the hallways or on the rooftop. It was as if he had disappeared back into the shadows, while I went back to my usual hectic idol life. Before I knew it, Saturday—the day of the School Festival—had arrived.
The school gymnasium was transformed into a sea of light and noise. I could hear the crowd chanting my name from behind the heavy velvet curtains: "Sayaka! Sayaka! Sayaka!"
Mira-san was fussing over my hair, spraying enough hairspray to keep every strand in place for an eternity. "Remember, Sayaka," she whispered, her voice sharp. "The sponsors are watching. Smile until your face hurts."
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. The heavy makeup, the glittery dress, the perfect ponytail—it was a mask I had worn so many times that I had forgotten what lay beneath it. Nothing was going into my head except the thumping of the bass from the speakers.
The curtains drew back. The roar of the crowd was deafening. I stepped out, the blinding spotlights making it impossible to see the faces in the front row. I raised the microphone and gave them my practiced, fake smile.
"Hello, everyone! Are you ready for a magical afternoon?"
The crowd erupted. I started singing, my voice clear and steady. I moved across the stage like a well-oiled machine, waving at the right moments, winking at the cameras. But my eyes were constantly searching. I was looking through the sea of glowing light sticks, trying to find a single person who didn't care about the idol.
Then, I saw him.
He was leaning against the back wall of the gym, far away from the screaming fans. He wasn't cheering. He didn't have a light stick. Arata was just standing there, his arms crossed, watching me with those same distant eyes.
For a split second, our eyes met. The noise of the crowd seemed to fade away. The music became a dull hum. It was just him and me in that massive room. He didn't look impressed. He looked... sorry for me.
My voice faltered for a tiny second, a note nearly cracking, but I recovered instantly. No one noticed—except him. He saw the crack in the doll.
When the last song ended and the confetti showered the stage, I took a bow. "Thank you! I love you all!" I shouted into the mic, my heart feeling heavier than ever.
I rushed backstage, ignoring the praise from the teachers and Mira-san. I needed to see him. I tore off the uncomfortable hair extensions and ran toward the back exit of the gym, still in my stage dress.
But when I reached the back wall where he was standing, the spot was empty. Only a small, folded piece of paper sat on the floor where he had been.
I stood there for a long while, just looking at that drawing. He had drawn me so simply, yet I looked more like 'me' in that sketch than I did in any of my official posters. Around me, the school was still buzzing with the festival energy, but out here in the quiet back alley, I finally felt like I could breathe.
I carefully tucked the note into my dress pocket. It felt more important to me than the entire concert I just gave.
"Sayaka! Where did you go?" Mira-san's voice broke my train of thought. She was walking toward me, eyes glued to her phone as usual. "The car is ready at the gate. We have to leave now if you want to make it to the next photoshoot on time."
I didn't say anything back. I just nodded and followed her. As we walked through the halls, I saw students staring and taking pictures, but for the first time, I didn't care about the attention. I felt like I wasn't even there.
Inside the car, I leaned against the window and watched the city lights go by. Usually, I'd be checking my phone to see if I was trending, but tonight, I didn't even want to touch it.
I kept thinking about his words written beneath the sketch: 'The lights are too bright. I liked the girl in the hoodie better.'
For a moment, I hated the dress I was wearing. I hated the makeup and the fake smiles. I just wanted to go back to that messy room, sit on the floor, and eat porridge with the only person who actually saw me for who I was.
I touched the paper in my pocket one last time. Arata didn't just see through my mask; he was the only one who made me want to take it off.