At twenty-two, he is the world’s most captive idol, living a life that has become a relentless, grayscale loop of strobe lights, hollow applause, and the crushing isolation of fame. He is a product to be consumed, a ghost in a leather jacket drifting through a sea of fans who see the icon but never the man. To him, the world is a stage where the script never changes—until the night he crosses paths with Y/n.