worship

I never imagined I'd meet him
—or rather, I never thought I'd meet someone I only ever saw on screen.

I remember that day, I was on my way home from work on the subway.
It wasn't as crowded as I'd expected, but all the seats were taken.

He saw me get on and stood up, gesturing for me to sit.
I glanced at him; the man was wearing a hat and mask, but they couldn't hide his captivating eyes.

I smiled at him and said, "Do I look pregnant?"

He shook his head with a charming smile, though I could only see his eyes.
That look seemed familiar, and I only later realized why.

Eventually, an older woman sat down, and he just stood there, stunned.
I couldn't stop laughing, and I laughed throughout the entire journey.

He stayed behind until he got off.
Only after I pressed the "follow" button could I see his whole face clearly.

I was astonished by the photo on his profile picture and turned to look at him as he was about to get off.
He waved, took off his mask, and smiled at me.
I stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

"Have you seen me before?" were the first words he uttered after getting out of the car.

I was still in shock.

—To

be honest, I'm a fan of his.
I've even gone to the cinema to see a few bad movies because of him.
I wouldn't say it's his fault, because there are too many problems with Taiwanese films.
Anyway, seeing his handsome face was enough to satisfy my desire.

We started chatting like old friends.
Although I still didn't dare to bring up his past scandals, feeling it was a bit presumptuous.

I knew his favorite work wasn't the recent blockbuster with its heavily promoted trailer,
but the short film he made when he first debuted.

He always said he liked things simple.
That's why he would take the MRT, go to night markets, and drive an ordinary car.

He was very different from what I imagined, yet it didn't feel out of place.

I thought people like him usually spent their days clubbing, drinking, smoking, and living a dissolute life.
Or sleeping around with female celebrities and models.

Although I didn't know his exact lifestyle, after all, he was just saying it.
I didn't ask him why he wanted to get to know me; perhaps it wasn't that important.

He gave me a contradictory feeling—a dangerous yet simply beautiful one.
Contradictory, yet not conflicting.

In fact, I still remembered my role was that of a fan, even though he told me to consider anyone with that account as a friend.
But I'm used to taking men's words with a grain of salt, so I just politely smiled and agreed.

On the fourth day after we met, he took me home.
We talked about work, career, relationships, family—everything.

I even forgot for a moment that I was his fan.
Although the whole thing was so bizarre that even a naive woman like me found it strange.

He asked if I wanted to see his room; looking back, it was an incredibly stupid reason.
I jumped back when he kissed me.

I didn't hate it; I must say I didn't hate the feeling of him kissing me.
It was just a very superficial feeling.

I was kissing my idol, a dream come true.
It was because the feeling was so wonderful that I jumped.

I remained silent, and he seemed a little embarrassed.
I sat on the bed, watching his slightly regretful expression beside me.

"I didn't want this," I finally said.

"Sorry," he smiled awkwardly.
"I just couldn't control myself." He scratched his head.

"Why me?" To be honest, I was a little confused.

"You're special."

"You've only known me for four days and you're telling me I'm special?"

"Um..." He looked at me and nodded.

"How so..."

"I don't know." He stared at me blankly. I thought there was some kind of camera there because his expression was so captivating.

"I'm not as casual as you think. Maybe your social circle is like that, but I'm sorry, I'm not." After I finished speaking, I
turned around, picked up my bag, and left. It was a very unsuccessful first meeting, I won't deny it.

When I got home, I didn't say much, and Lai kept disappearing.
I impulsively picked up my phone and browsed through it. It was nothing more than apologies to me.

But I couldn't find the reason why I was angry. Maybe I'm just someone who gets angry easily.
Or maybe I still have some lingering feelings for that kiss, who knows.

-

We still maintained a friendship, but he had toned it down a lot.
Although there were still occasional ambiguous jokes, he had definitely changed.

I knew he had feelings for me, and I felt the same way.
It's just that his behavior made me much more reserved.

I would look at his fan page and his Weibo and feel jealous of the female fans, even though I was one of them.
I would wonder what kind of ambiguous relationships he was having with other women while chatting with me.

I don't deny that he's a very considerate person, but at the same time, it made me feel incredibly insecure.
Because he's an idol, a public figure.

And I'm just a small fan.

I know he would intentionally or unintentionally say he misses me, or call me "silly."
Those things felt intimate, at least that's how I felt.

I was very surprised that a woman I'd only met twice would say such things.
After all, saying such things without being completely familiar with each other is like lying.

I'm just one of his thousands of fans, why treat me like this? I don't understand.

–

I started to soften and even believe him when it was raining heavily during a typhoon, and he appeared downstairs at my company waiting for me.
One second he said he was going to a manufacturer's event, and the next second he asked if I was about to leave work.

Sitting in the car, my feelings were complicated. I didn't understand why he was treating me this way.
I didn't believe there weren't more beautiful women among his fans; everyone in that circle was vying for attention.
I didn't know why he was being so nice to me; I was confused.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I didn't look at him; my gaze lingered outside the window.

"Otherwise, who else could be nice to you in my place?" he said.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

"We've known each other for a month, and we haven't met that many times. Besides, I don't know you very well. You have a lot of fans, why would you choose an ordinary woman
like ?"

"Because... it's because you're so ordinary."

As he finished speaking, I turned to look at him. We were stopped at a red light, and his face was right in front of me as he kissed
me . This time, I closed my eyes properly, but my heart was still pounding.

It wasn't until the light turned green that the horns of the cars behind me woke me up.
I didn't understand how I felt at that moment; it was a thrilling feeling, like being on the edge of a cliff.

The car drove all the way back to his house, which I actually knew.
I didn't say anything to resist; instead, I had a kind of open-minded attitude, like, "Since it's like this, then so be it."

After he took me to the room, he wasn't as eager as before. Instead, we lay on the bed, looking at each other.
I didn't dare ask him why he wasn't making any moves; it would be unnecessary.

He just pinched my cheek and smiled at me.
I turned my head away, feeling embarrassed, because his smile was just too irresistible.

"Is it okay if we don't go to the event?" I said, trying to break the awkwardness.

"So you didn't see I didn't turn on my phone?" he laughed.

"Are you going? This isn't right."

"Because I want you to believe me, but I don't know how." After he said that, I fell silent.

"Why are you so good to me? I'm just one in a million." After a long while, I finally

spoke. "Because you are one in a million." He laughed and hugged me.

His kiss melted me, even though reason told me it wasn't right.
His lips made my heart flutter, even though reason told me it wasn't right.
I took off his clothes, even though reason told me it wasn't right.
He took off my bra, even though reason told me it wasn't right.

But reason had long been forgotten.

Before he entered my body, I cupped his face in my hands.
I couldn't imagine the feeling of a dream coming true, I just felt dizzy.

"Do you only have me?" I said.

"Yes." He nodded.

"From now on, can you only have me?" I almost cried.

"Okay."

My body swayed with his, letting his body heat warm me.
My intense moans made him twist his waist even more vigorously.

"Give it to me..." I tried to look at him with pleading eyes.

At that moment, I forgot how dangerous this man was; I only remembered him thrusting into my body again and again.
I also forgot that I was just a small-time fan; I only remembered his sweat dripping onto my waist, drop by drop.

"All of it...give it to me." I moaned freely in his ear.

And he gave me everything after his final thrust.
I was blank for a few seconds, letting him lie on top of me, panting.

"I really like you, Yu-hsuan," he said, looking at me with hazy eyes.

—Please

forgive my little drama starting again.
Especially when we had a deeper relationship.

I only found out what I had done after talking to my colleagues.
In short, I slept with my idol, and then he said he liked me.

And this all happened within a month, well done.
My colleague calmly told me I was stupid and then went back to her seat to obediently handle her work, leaving me alone.

Our relationship hadn't changed much, except that we talked more intimately.
I'm not averse to him, but I still have a lot of insecurities.
Women are inherently insecure, especially with a famously handsome man like him.

Of course, it's undeniable that our relationship is sweet.
Sometimes we'd go to the night market or see a movie fully dressed up, and other times we'd just chat at home, gossiping and reading his news to pass the time.

I know he's busy, so I always find things to do in my free time.
The rest of the time I'd spend thinking about our relationship.

I honestly don't know if I love him.
My feelings for him are more like admiration, a kind of worship.

But the more time I spend with him, the more my perspective changes. I gradually discover aspects of him that others don't know. His

simply furnished room, without unnecessary clutter, reflects his simple personality.
He's always very considerate and thoughtful, yet pretends not to care.
Sometimes he likes to rely on me, likes me to wake him up, likes to hear my voice.
He likes to ask me if he looked handsome at his events and interviews that day.
He habitually calls to tell me where he is, trying his best to give me a sense of security.

I truly think I'm very lucky, to be honest.

In the third month of our relationship, I moved into his house.

"That way I can take good care of you."

Looks like I'm an easy woman to please.

–

If it weren't for the urgent knocking and doorbell, I wouldn't have woken up from his shoulder.
I opened the door and saw the woman, who looked at me with the same expression.
I knew who she was; strictly speaking, I'd seen her on screen.
She was shorter and had heavier makeup than on TV, I must say.

"Never mind, I'm not too surprised." She looked at me with disdain, then went inside.

Hearing the commotion, he came out of his bedroom and saw the woman.
I could see surprise in his eyes, because his gaze towards me was helpless.

"Who's this?" The woman entered, lit a cigarette, sat down, and pointed at me.

"None of your business."

"Playing innocent? You weren't satisfied with just one woman before." The woman laughed loudly.

"Get out."

"Oh, my dear Zhe Zhe, when did you become so menacing?" The woman stood up and blew
smoke all over his face.

"We broke up," he said coldly.

"You begged me to come back." The woman traced his cheek with her index finger.

"If you don't leave, I'll call the police." He lowered his head, issuing an ultimatum.

"Heh, one day he'll show his true colors." I didn't know who the woman was talking to, but it seemed to be
me, the one who had been ignored earlier.

The woman put on her high heels, then went out the door, giving me a meaningful look before closing it.
A look that said, "One day I'll find out."

— ※ jkforum.net | jkf Czech Forum

My feelings are complicated.
I wasn't listening to what he was saying.
Not that I didn't want to listen, but

I couldn't quite connect with it. I saw his red eyes, and my heart ached.
But I couldn't face this relationship, this breakdown of trust.

I realized then that the reason I had been resisting wasn't because of him as a person,
but because of his position.

I was indeed concerned about what that woman said before she left.
Besides, I didn't want to know what he had done in the past, even though everyone has a past.

I knew he was apologizing, but I didn't know why he was apologizing.
He hadn't done anything wrong; it was my own inferiority complex that was getting the better of me.

I packed my things, picked up my luggage, and walked out the door.
I could see his disappointment, and in the mirror in the elevator, I saw my own helplessness.

Maybe I am just an insecure and weak person.
Especially when it comes to things I care about, I'm even more afraid of losing them.

—

I cried all the way home.
Especially after the phone rang several times, and those words he left on the phone.

Strictly speaking, it was just a picture.

My tears dripped onto the phone screen.
The tablecloth held our photo, now a somewhat ironic contrast.

I was undeniably cowardly, yet I didn't know where to begin believing.

I took out my notebook, but couldn't bring myself to write.
I wanted to say something to him, but only managed to write "I'm sorry. "

He called me, and this time I answered.

"Will you believe me?" he asked.

"I don't know, what is there to believe?"

He remained silent on the other end, the air thick with tension.
I held the phone, knowing that I would soften if he said "I love you," but this wasn't what I wanted.

"Yu-xuan, you're special."

"Besides saying 'special,' what else do you mean?"

"I..."

I didn't give him a chance to explain, even though I knew it was all because of my weakness.
So I hung up and said sorry.

If I could, I'd rather be the one liking my posts on Facebook
than the one sweetly sleeping on your shoulder after your goodnight kiss.

I know I could be happy, but I don't know if I have the courage.
I wrote down my feelings, then let them settle.

Perhaps perfection itself makes one more aware of loss.

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