Chapter 24: The Twitter Misunderstanding

As the concert progressed, Stefan continued to document my every move, capturing my enthusiastic fan chants, my frantic lightstick waving, my occasional bursts of off-key singing. He even filmed a short video of me attempting to replicate one of 4EVER’s signature dance moves, a clumsy, awkward display that would no doubt provide endless amusement for our parents – and for Stefan himself. He was capturing my KPOP-fueled enthusiasm, my uninhibited joy, my… me-ness. And in that moment, surrounded by the deafening roar of the crowd, the flashing lights, and the manufactured energy of a KPOP concert, I felt seen, truly seen, by my brother, my friend..

The concert ended, the lights coming up, the crowd slowly dispersing, the magic of the performance fading into the harsh reality of the Parisian night. As we made our way to the car, the whispers and stares continued, the speculation about our relationship still swirling around us like a persistent fog. I glanced at Stefan, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and amusement, his plastic bag of snacks now empty, replaced by a crumpled collection of wrappers and empty bottles. He might not have enjoyed the concert, not really. But he’d been there, with me, sharing the experience, indulging my KPOP obsession, capturing my enthusiasm with his phone, his silent presence a comforting anchor in the chaotic sea of fandom. And as we drove home, the city lights blurring into a comforting backdrop, I realized that sometimes, the most meaningful connections, the most profound moments of love and understanding, are found not in grand gestures or dramatic declarations, but in the quiet moments of shared experience, the unspoken language of affection, the simple act of being present, together.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Back in the sanctuary of my room, the residual energy of the concert still buzzing in my veins, I reached for my phone, eager to relive the highlights of the evening through the lens of social media. Logging into Twitter, I was immediately bombarded with a flurry of concert photos and videos, a digital echo of the screams, the flashing lights, and the synchronized dance moves that had filled the stadium just hours before. And because we’d been seated in the VIP section, practically within spitting distance of the stage, my face, illuminated by the glow of a thousand lightsticks, was plastered all over my timeline.

My phone buzzed with notifications, a chorus of comments and reactions from fellow 4EVER stans. Most were complimentary, expressing envy at my prime seating location and admiring my… enthusiasm. "Sacha, you were living your best life!" one comment read, accompanied by a string of heart-eye emojis. "I saw you! You were right in front!" another exclaimed. The KPOP fandom, despite its occasional bouts of toxicity, was generally a supportive community, a place where shared passion transcended social barriers and geographical boundaries. And because I was known within the fandom for my… let’s just say… enthusiastic participation, my presence in the VIP section wasn’t entirely unexpected. After all, I wasn’t exactly shy about expressing my love for 4EVER, both online and offline.

But then came the other comments, the ones that made my cheeks flush and my heart do a weird little tap dance against my ribs. "Damn, Sacha, you dragged your boyfriend along?" one user teased, accompanied by a crying-laughing emoji. "He looked so bored, LOL." Another chimed in, "Poor guy. He’s a good sport though." And then there was the photo, the one that had been retweeted and liked hundreds of times, the one that showed Stefan, his expression a mixture of amusement and mild boredom, diligently snapping pictures of me while I waved my lightstick with the fervor of a religious convert. "He looks so doting," one comment read, followed by a string of heart emojis. "Couple goals!" another exclaimed.

The comments, though meant in jest, sent a strange thrill through me. The idea of Stefan, my stoic, practical brother, being perceived as my… boyfriend… was both mortifying and strangely… exciting. It was a fantasy, of course, a product of the fandom’s collective imagination, fueled by Stefan’s unexpected attentiveness and my own… perhaps overly enthusiastic… display of KPOP devotion. But still, a part of me, the hopelessly romantic part, couldn’t help but revel in the attention, the playful speculation, the illusion of romantic connection.

And then, the notifications took an unexpected turn. A few of my… past dates… chimed in, their comments ranging from playful teasing to thinly veiled jealousy. "So that’s who you’ve been spending your time with," one wrote, her tone a mixture of amusement and pique. "He’s… cute," another commented, followed by a winking emoji. I rolled my eyes, a familiar gesture of playful exasperation. They were just teasing, I knew. But still, the idea of them viewing Stefan, my brother, as a potential romantic rival was… strange, to say the least.

I closed my eyes, a smile playing on my lips. It was all so ridiculous, so absurd, yet… strangely heartwarming. Stefan, my quiet, unassuming brother, had inadvertently become the star of my KPOP concert experience, his bored indifference and dutiful documentation of my enthusiasm misinterpreted as doting boyfriend behavior. And honestly? I wasn't entirely opposed to the narrative. The thought of Stefan being perceived as my adoring boyfriend, was both hilarious and strangely… thrilling. It was a fantasy, I knew, a K-drama plot twist playing out in the comments section of my Twitter feed. But for a brief, fleeting moment, I allowed myself to indulge in the illusion, to imagine a world where Stefan’s quiet affection, his subtle gestures of care, were something… more.

Downstairs, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm croissants wafted up from the kitchen, a familiar reminder of the comforts of home, the grounding presence of family. I stretched, my muscles aching from a night of enthusiastic fan chants and clumsy dance moves, and made my way downstairs, my phone still buzzing with notifications from my KPOP-obsessed Twitter followers.

As I entered the kitchen, I found Stefan already seated at the table, leisurely munching on a croissant, his expression a picture of blissful morning contentment. He glanced up as I approached, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement.

"So," he began, his voice a low rumble that made my breath catch in my throat., "your… ‘boyfriend’ seems to be quite popular."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across my face. "He has his moments," I replied, playing along, a warmth spreading through my chest. It wasn’t real, not yet. But for a brief, shining moment, in the comments section of my Twitter feed, in the shared space between fantasy and reality, it almost felt like it was.

My parents, ever eager to partake in the latest social media drama, chimed in, their voices a mix of amusement and gentle teasing. "Your fans seem to approve of Stefan, Sacha," Maman said with a wink, her eyes twinkling.

Papa, his newspaper lowered just enough to reveal a pair of amused eyes, grunted in agreement. "He’s a good-looking boy," he added, his tone laced with fatherly pride. "A good catch."

I just shook my head, a blush creeping up my neck, my heart doing a happy little dance in my chest. It was all a misunderstanding, of course. A playful misinterpretation, fueled by the overactive imaginations of KPOP fans and the internet’s insatiable appetite for romance. But still, the thought of Stefan, my brother, my friend, my… maybe, just maybe, something more… being perceived as a "good catch," by my parents, no less, sent a thrill of excitement through me, a spark of possibility igniting in the quiet corners of my heart.