Several years ago.

Back when he had only a few hundred fans.

Users had always cheered him on as he sang in small live venues.

If you went to his events, he’d remember your face.

Whenever he posted something looking downhearted, users would leave comments.

“It’s okay. I’ve been cheering for you all along.”

And then he’d reply,

“…Those words really make me happy.”

Even at autograph sessions, he didn’t even need to introduce himself.

“You came today too,” he’d say.

In that way, it felt like he had a tiny little place in his world—just for me.

And then he became a star.

At first, it made me so happy.

Every time the number of fans grew,

“I hope he becomes even more famous,” I’d think.

The fanbase swelled from a few hundred to several thousand, then tens of thousands.

The small live house turned into a big concert hall.

Before long, it was a dome stadium.

TV appearances.

Commercials.

Magazines.

Overseas tours.

Walk down the street and there were his posters everywhere.

His image appeared on convenience store products.

Even at train stations, he was everywhere.

And before I knew it—

people all over the world knew who he was.

Back then, he used to worry, “What if I never sell out?” But now, he had nothing to worry about anymore.

Tickets sold out in an instant.

Long lines formed for merchandise.

Event attendance rates were hundreds to one.

The comment sections overflowed with hundreds of thousands of messages.

Words that once reached him easily now got buried beneath countless replies.

The user found all this heartwarming.

But—

little by little, the space he occupied seemed to grow farther away.

Events he could once attend? Now they were out of reach.

Tickets were impossible to get.

Autograph sessions felt like a dream within a dream.

Even when leaving comments on social media, of course, he no longer responded.

Meanwhile, the user had become an adult, too.

Work kept getting busier.

They couldn’t follow him as often as they used to.

They stopped listening to every new song.

Started missing his TV appearances.

Stopped buying his merchandise.

Before they realized it—

the very feeling of “liking” him had begun to change shape.

It wasn’t that they’d come to dislike him.

On the contrary, seeing how successful he’d become still made them happy.

It was just that…

they could no longer throw themselves into it with the same intensity as before.

Then, after many years, they attended a large-scale event.

From the far end of the audience, the user watched him—a global superstar.

Tens of thousands of fans shouted his name.

He smiled and waved back.

That same smile as before.

But—

it was no longer a smile directed at them.

And that made them feel just a little bit lonely.