I never thought peace could feel this strange.
It had been weeks since i landed in Korea, and for the first time in forever, I wasn't drowning in the weight of other people's opinions.
No headlines.
No ambush interviews.
No trending hashtags with my name followed by words like 'homewrecker' or 'fake.' Just silence. Gentle, healing silence.
I was happy.
Really happy.
My parents still checked in, Mom sending photos of pastries she knew i liked, Dad calling late at night just to ask if i'd locked the doors.
But mostly, i was alone and i liked it.
-
I decided to leave the apartment.
I'd run out of eggs, and i wanted tteokbokki.
A tiny convenience store at the corner usually had both, and for once, I didn't bother putting on makeup or sunglasses.
No one recognized me here.
Just the way i liked it.
-
The elevator dinged as i stepped in, adjusting the sleeves of my cardigan. I looked up and froze for half a second.
A guy was already inside.
Tall. Maybe six feet. Jawline for days. Wore a beanie low over his brows and a mask, but it didn't hide the fact that he was objectively good-looking.
K-drama male lead kind of good-looking.
He glanced at me, and our eyes met.
I gave a polite nod, a subtle bow standard Korean etiquette.
He looked away.
Okay, then.
Jerk.
I turned toward the buttons, only to realize he'd already hit the ground floor.
I didn't need to press anything.
And yet—
"Are you following me?" he suddenly said, voice low, a little accusing.
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You didn't press a button."
"Because you already pressed the ground floor," I shot back, arching a brow. "Why would i be following you?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Just asking."
"Well don't," I snapped, folding my arms. "I don't follow men with fragile egos."
He said nothing.
I didn't either.
The awkward silence filled the space until the elevator doors opened. We walked out, turned opposite directions.
I didn't even bother glancing back.
What a way to ruin a perfectly peaceful morning.
I came back twenty minutes later with a bag of groceries and my usual craving for caffeine.
I brewed coffee, curled up by the wide glass window of the condo, and mindlessly scrolled through Facebook.
One post caught my attention.
A friend back home had just shared a poster for a K-pop concert in Seoul.
SOLSTICE – LIVE IN SEOUL
Global K-pop Group. 7 members. One night only.
I didn't know them.
I never had time to.
My life before was all glam shoots and endorsement meetings, one after another. No time for concerts.
No time for fan culture.
But today? Today, I had time.
Out of curiosity, I tapped on the photo.
The poster featured all seven members, different races, all glowing under a spotlight.
My eyes landed on the guy standing at the far right.
Filipino.
Tall.
Strong jaw.
Subtle smirk.
Wait a second.
No freaking way.
That was the elevator guy.
I tapped on his name underneath the photo.
Sebastian Blair Gutierrez, 28. Vocalist, Philippines.
My jaw dropped.
He wasn't just any guy.
He was part of a global boy group.
He's famous.
I let out a dry laugh. "Well. That explains the attitude."
I clicked further into his profile.
Most of the content was fan-made.
Clips of him singing.
Interviews where he spoke fluent Tagalog and Korean.
His fan base was massive.
Then something else caught my eye.
Araneta-Gutierrez Family – Owners of the Lueur Empire and Gutierrez Hospital
Wait.
Lueur?
I nearly dropped my phone.
I used to endorse their perfume line. Three years ago, I did a whole holiday campaign wearing a red silk dress and posing with their signature scent.
That was his family?
So his mom is the famous Claudia Isabela Araneta and his dad is the famous doctor?
Wow.
The world really is that small.
And the universe clearly had jokes.
First the elevator, now this?
I went back to scrolling, and for some reason, kept landing on Sebastian's clips. One video had over twenty million views. He was singing live, no autotune. Voice like velvet dipped in whiskey. The kind of voice that made you pause in the middle of whatever you were doing.
Why do the attractive ones always have attitude problems?
I closed the app, a little annoyed at myself for caring.
He probably didn't remember me anyway.
-
The next day, I bumped into him again.
Literally.
I'd stepped out to get something down the hall, wearing a shirt and mismatched socks, when he turned a corner too fast.
"Watch it," he muttered, steadying me with one hand before stepping back.
"I'm fine," I said, brushing past him.
He didn't move.
"You live here?" he asked suddenly, eyes narrowing.
"Yes. Why?"
"You're new."
"I didn't realize you monitored every person who lives here."
He snorted. "I don't. Just never saw you before."
"Maybe i like staying inside."
"Maybe you're hiding."
I stiffened. "Excuse me?"
He looked at me, this time with less arrogance and more... curiosity. "I've seen you before. Somewhere. You're not just some regular girl."
I swallowed hard. He didn't say it like a fan, or a stalker. Just... like someone observing.
I decided to walk away.
"You're not gonna tell me your name?"
I paused. Then turned slightly.
"Nope."
And then i walked back into my unit.
-
I dropped the laundry basket and sat down with a sigh.
So much for peace and quiet.
Now i had a neighbor who was not only a global idol but also potentially suspicious of me.
I had no idea what he thought he knew, but i wasn't ready to confirm anything.
Not yet.
Not when i was just starting to enjoy this version of me. The quieter, simpler one. The Margaux who didn't have to smile for a dozen cameras or fake laugh during interviews.
The one who could burn rice and not trend on Twitter for it.
-
I spent the rest of the day journaling.
Not for content.
Not for a blog or vlog.
Just for me.
"Today i bumped into Sebastian Gutierrez. Literally. He thinks i'm hiding. Maybe i am. But maybe that's not a bad thing."
-
By evening, I found myself curious again.
I searched for clips of Sebastian outside the stage, interviews, fan questions, even random behind-the-scenes moments.
One clip had him saying:
"Fame is weird. It gives you everything and takes everything, too."
I paused.
That... I understood.
That was the first time i looked at him not as a jerk in the elevator, but as someone who might be running from something, too.
Or at least tired of being seen all the time.
Maybe we weren't so different.
Except i ran away from the spotlight... and he was still living in it.
-
The next morning, I opened my door to grab a package and found a coffee cup on the floor. No note. No name. Just black coffee from the café downstairs.
I looked left.
Then right.
Nothing.
No one.
Just the quiet hallway.
Was it from him?
I didn't know.
But i picked it up, brought it inside, and took a sip.
Not poisoned.
Tasted good, actually.
A small smile crept to my lips.
For someone trying to live unseen, I was definitely being noticed.
By the most unexpected person.
And i wasn't sure if i liked that.
But for the first time in a while...
I didn't hate it either.