psychopath fangirl

l CHAPTER ONE — “YOU DON’T KNOW ME”* The first time she saw him was on a screen she could barely afford to fix. Not in real life. Not yet. He didn’t even know she existed. But she knew him. Too well. Every smile he gave the crowd? She watched it like a lie she wished was true. Every lyric he sang? Felt like it was meant for someone stronger than her. Yura wasn’t obsessed. Not like they said. She was… surviving. Posters on her cracked bedroom wall weren’t decoration — they were escape. Because real life? Real life was messy. Real life was her mother slamming the door without looking back. Her father sleeping through her cries. Her dinner being a dry slice of bread and silence. He was the only thing that made noise in her Yura didn’t just follow him. She studied him. Every live, every interview, every rumor — she had it saved. Labeled. Dated. Archived. It wasn’t love. It was survival. Her small rented room was covered in him — not in a cute way. In a way that would scare people if they walked in. His face was on her pillowcase. His voice was her alarm tone. His birthday was the only day she celebrate But she wasn't just another screaming fan. She *knew* him. She knew his manager’s name, his blood type, his childhood trauma he slipped once in a late-night podcast. And more than anything — she knew he was unhappy, even if the world didn’t see it. “I’m not crazy,” she whispered, dragging a finger down his photo. “I’m just the only one who really sees you.”