The venue’s clamor gradually faded. The audience area sank into hushed darkness, stage lights flickering alone. The moment the girl in a revealing outfit stepped onstage, nearly every gaze locked onto her. From the setup, the crowd could already sense—a spectacular performance awaited.

They waited eagerly. Yet the performers had been onstage for minutes with no show beginning. Initial excitement waned; a restless impatience seeped through the seats.

Band members exchanged uneasy glances. The central mic stand stood empty—the most crucial spot. The guitarist, meant to be lead vocalist, was nowhere.

“Don’t worry. Just wait a little longer.”

Luo Xiaoxiao soothed the others, though her grip on the drumsticks tightened unconsciously. This was her first college performance. She refused to let it end like this.

Time dragged. Anxiety thickened. The venue grew eerily silent.

Suddenly, a sharp-eyed spectator spotted the stage curtain stir. Footsteps broke the silence—the only sound. All eyes turned. A hooded boy stepped up, guitar slung low at his waist. His face hidden, yet his tall, slender frame stood straight as a poplar against the stage lights.

He placed the mic before the drummer, then melted back into shadow. During that brief exchange, the big screen caught a flash of his face—black mask covering all but eyes and brows above the nose bridge. Delicate, water-soft features held a faint allure, yet sharp bone structure cut through the gentleness.

Beneath long lashes, his eyes stayed cold. Thick brows arched rebelliously as he stared into the void ahead, radiating untamed nonchalance.

Whispers rippled below. Many girls’ eyes sparkled—captivated by his aloof entrance. But the moment vanished. Spotlight swung back to the drummer in leather and hot pants, fiery and magnetic. Passionate drumbeats fused with her world-shaking shouts—and the crowd erupted.

All eyes burned on the radiant girl.

All but one.

A cold gaze slithered from the dark, locking onto the shadowed boy clutching his guitar. A flicker of icy impatience surfaced—then vanished, swallowed with the sweet, metallic taste lingering in the mouth.

…

“Qian’ge, spacing out again?” A roommate tugged Xia Qian’ge’s sleeve.

“Hehe, clueless, huh?” Xu Dan grinned, pointing toward the hooded figure. “Qian’ge’s been staring at him this whole time.”

“Ohhh, I see…”

Like a cold serpent retracting into shadow, Xia Qian’ge slowly looked away. Her roommates watched with knowing smirks, eyes gleaming with gossip-hungry curiosity.

“Got a crush? He *is* handsome… mask or not.”

“Don’t you recognize him?” Xia Qian’ge smiled faintly, never flustered.

“Him?” Xu Dan blinked.

“Rogue.”

The word clicked. Xu Dan gasped. “Whoa! *Him?!* No wonder he looked familiar!”

“Who? Is he really that hot?” another girl leaned in.

“Uh… decent,” Xu Dan mumbled awkwardly—*she’d* yelled “Rogue” back then. “Handsome. Just… a little foolish.”

“Foolish?”

“Yeah. Definitely.” She nodded, remembering how he’d clumsily rushed up, grabbing Qian’ge’s wrist—face stunned, even holding a hint of… fear?

“Your high school classmate’s still in a band? Guitarist? So cool!”

“I don’t know… He wouldn’t.” Xia Qian’ge lowered her lashes. Her voice turned cool, vanishing like wind. “He *shouldn’t*.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

She shook her head, gaze drifting back onstage. Center stage: the dazzling drummer. Perfect. Radiant. Yet standing just a little too close to *him*. Not right for him.

Her eyes traced the girl’s flawless makeup. *Such a beautiful face…*

She tucked a stray strand behind her ear, smile soft as overflowing springwater. Pale lips held a trace of fragility—aching, tender, stirring an urge to protect.

…

He’s grown… half a head taller than you now.

From the crowd’s darkness, you watched him step onstage, guitar slung low. So handsome—you barely recognized the clumsy boy he once was.

You stared, unblinking. Eyes stung dry, then blurred with tears. Rim reddened.

Yes. No mistake. *Him.*

Hood shadowing his face, black mask hiding all but brows and eyes. Messy bangs veiled his features—yet that single glimpse on screen confirmed it.

Those elegant eyes. Those water-soft brows. Weren’t they the very longing haunting your midnight dreams, night after restless night?

Carved into bone… how could you forget?

*Finally.* How long… *how long?*

Joy tangled your thoughts. You counted days, months—arriving at an answer precise to the second.

Time had reshaped him. Boyish frailty gone. Green innocence faded. Maturity gleamed in his gaze. A young man’s quiet strength now stood tall.

You watched him walk, eyes fixed on distant dark—cold, aloof. Yet you smiled softly. *Nervous.* You knew: when nervous, he’d glance unconsciously at the floor, forty-five degrees down.

After years of searching, hope long buried—your heart hammered anew. Warm blood surged. Body flushed, trembling.

But… your gaze dropped into the surrounding dark.

*So noisy.*

What were those wretches whispering about? What business was it of theirs? Why talk about… *her* things?

…Too loud.