Chapter 1 The calm before the storm 1

(Luna's POV)

The roar of the crowd was like a drug, pulsing through my veins and igniting every nerve. I gripped the microphone tighter, leaning into the spotlight as thousands of voices screamed my name. This was my sanctuary, my battlefield, and my escape all rolled into one.

"Thank you, New York!" My voice echoed over the speakers, and the applause grew deafening. The final note of my encore vibrated through the air, and for a moment, I felt untouchable. Like nothing could reach me up here.

But as the lights dimmed and I stepped backstage, reality crept back in.

My assistant, Dina, was already waiting by the wings with a towel and a bottle of water. "You killed it out there," she said, beaming.

"Thanks." I took the towel, dabbing the sweat from my neck as I glanced behind her. The backstage area was buzzing stagehands rushing around, Vivian barking orders at someone on her headset, and a few reporters lingering near the edge of the curtain. Nothing out of the ordinary. But still, a strange unease prickled at the back of my neck.

Dina noticed my hesitation. "You okay?"

I forced a smile. "Yeah. Just tired."

It wasn't a lie. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of tour dates, interviews, and sleepless nights. I should've been used to it by now, but something about tonight felt... off.

As I walked toward my dressing room, Vivian intercepted me. Her sharp eyes were even more intense than usual, and she waved a dismissive hand at the reporters who tried to approach.

"We need to talk," she said, lowering her voice.

"Can it wait?" I sighed. "I just want to sit down for five minutes."

"No, it can't." She grabbed my arm and steered me toward the dressing room door. The moment she opened it, I understood why.

On the vanity table, propped up against the mirror, was a small white envelope. My name was scrawled across the front in bold, jagged letters.

I frowned. "What is this?"

Vivian crossed her arms. "You tell me."

I picked up the envelope, the paper cold and stiff between my fingers. Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded neatly in half. I unfolded it slowly, my stomach twisting as I read the words written in the same jagged handwriting:

I see you, Luna. Soon, we'll be together.

My chest tightened. I'd dealt with obsessed fans before-people who sent letters, camped outside my hotel, or tried to sneak into backstage areas. It came with the territory. But this... this felt different.

"This isn't the first one," Vivian said, her voice clipped.

I looked up sharply. "What do you mean?"

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her emails before handing it to me. On the screen were pictures of three more notes, each one just as unsettling as the one in my hand.

"Why am I just now hearing about this?" I asked, my voice rising.

"Because I thought it was nothing at first," Vivian said. "Just another overzealous fan. But whoever this is, they're getting bolder. The last note was left in your hotel room. And now this."

My stomach dropped. "How did they get in here?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Vivian's jaw tightened. "But until we do, you're getting a new bodyguard."

"What? No." I shook my head. "I don't need a babysitter."

"This isn't up for debate, Luna. You're a target, and I'm not taking any chances. He'll be here first thing in the morning."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the look on her face stopped me. Vivian wasn't just my manager; she was like a second mother. And right now, she was scared. That scared me more than the note ever could.