The Night We Became Lyrics

In a room lit only by candles and the glow of the TV,

A room scented with vanilla and fruit,
A room filled with silence...

My voice came out like a scream.
As soon as I said it, a chill ran through me. A heavy burden lifted, yet fear wrapped around me so tightly that I closed my eyes.

I didn’t want to open them. Lyra was right in front of me—I knew it.
I had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity.
Then, a wave of unbearable regret hit me.

Lyra was a singer.
She couldn't date.
Her career was important.
And I was someone she cared about—and I had told her I liked her.
What had I done?

Maybe Lyra stood in front of me with furrowed brows, disappointed.
Maybe she'd say, "I'm sorry, I can't."

Then I'd go home, and maybe we’d never talk again.
I couldn’t take it. I opened my eyes in fear.

Lyra was right in front of me, so close she had approached while my eyes were shut.
She raised her arms slowly and silently.

"I-I'm sor—" I began to speak in panic, but Lyra suddenly pushed me back with all her strength.
We both fell back onto the couch.
Lyra landed on top of me.

“L-Lyra...?”
“Be quiet.” Lyra held my cheeks firmly. Her voice was a whisper, yet sharp.

Even in the dark, I could see the green in her eyes.

Her expression was unlike anything I’d seen before—as if she was luring me in.

And in that darkness,

That night,

I had my first kiss.

It was soft, sweet, and gentle.
When it ended, Lyra slowly pulled away. She was trembling.
I lay there, speechless, dazed.

“I-I…” She began to wave her hands in panic.

But me...
I think...
I had my answer.

I slowly sat up, looking at her, searching for a reply in her eyes.

This shy girl—how could she sometimes be so intimidating?
I could see her blushing. I didn’t know what to do anymore.
I was in uncharted waters now.

Lyra quickly stood up and stepped back a few paces. Whatever had shocked her, it was intense. Then, those magical words escaped her lips:

“I love you, too, Yuta.”

Her words lifted my heart like a feather. Yet, I feared that feather might drift away—that this might be fleeting.

But fear would no longer save me from fate.
I was embarrassed. Surprised.

But most of all...

I was in love like never before.

I stood up and hugged Lyra, who was looking at me bashfully.
“Then thank you too, Lyra. For being the song that lit up my life.”

“Idiot, didn’t we agree no thank yous?” Her whisper was shy. She hugged me back.

“I guess I finally found someone I want to thank,” I said with a smile.

She was with me now—it wasn’t impossible anymore.
She wasn’t the unreachable moon.

I had never fallen for her as the singer. I didn’t care about that.
The Lyra who helped me, who wrote songs from my poems, was by my side.
The Lyra who took my ideas seriously.

And this Lyra...
Was now the girl I was dating.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and gently rested her head on my chest.
Neither of us spoke. The silence, for the first time, wasn’t scary—it was comforting.
It felt like this moment would last forever.

Then, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
The vibration echoed through the room.
Lyra quickly pulled away.
“Ah, um… sorry,” I said, reaching for my phone.
The screen read, “Mom Calling.”
I raised an eyebrow and looked at Lyra.

“Looks like I need to head out.”

She nodded shyly.
“I hope… I didn’t make you too late.”

“The only thing you made late… might be my heartbeat.”

Lyra laughed, then looked away.
The phone kept ringing.
I picked up.

“Hello?”

“Yuta? Where are you? You’re not home yet?”

“Uh… I’m on my way now.”

“Okay, but your dad’s worried. Come home, alright?”
I glanced at Lyra.

She was looking back at me, her eyes saying “go ahead” without words.
“Okay, Mom. I’m heading out now.”
I hung up.

Lyra walked toward the door as I grabbed my coat.

As I put on my shoes, I heard her voice:
“Will you… Come again?”

I stopped. Turned.
“I’ll come whenever you want me to.”

42 – 2

The next few days, life seemed to take on a new hue.

Waking up in the morning wasn’t just about starting a new day—it was about the excitement of seeing a message from Lyra.

Messages that started with, “Good morning, my sunshine…”
Voice notes like, “Today I wrote a chorus using your idea…”
Or sneaking out of school just to meet up…
Everything started to feel so sweet.
After school, sometimes I’d drop her off at the studio, or we’d sit at a café together.

Lyra would shed her cool, on-camera persona and become a shy, excited girl just for me.
And me—
I was falling for her even more.

We wrote poems together.
She turned them into melodies.

The moments when we just listened to music together in silence at night felt like they were built on every unspoken word.

Our first two months as a couple were beautiful, but I was beginning to see how different our struggles were.

Her manager opposed it at first, but later thanked me, probably after noticing how Lyra had changed—how happy she was.

We couldn’t always go out. Sometimes we had to be apart for a week or two.

But we never stopped communicating. Seeing her smile, her hair flying as she ran, her eyes shining with joy...

That was enough for me.
This struggle made me realize how different we were.
She was someone on the rise—someone special enough to inspire and energize the world.
And being with her, realizing the huge gap between us, sometimes made me feel strange.

Maybe I was afraid I wasn’t enough.

But every time I said something even slightly along those lines, she’d scold me and draw closer.

That old, ordinary me seemed gone. How many people lived a life like this?

I had grown up in a standard education system, a standard family, with a standard body and standard mindset.

But with Lyra beside me,

I realized that being “ordinary” could also be different and special.
I didn’t need to be different to be unique.
And there was no obligation to be unique either.
Lyra taught me that best.

She used lyrics from one of my poems in one of her songs. I was thrilled. People listened to that love song over and over.

It broke records.

Even when I said it was her success, she denied it.

Sometimes she felt down because of something that happened at the studio or a concert.
And I’d be there, holding her, comforting her.

Even though our thoughts were often so different,

Those differences helped us fill in each other’s gaps.

At nineteen, barely out of adolescence,
I—who was still a “baby” just a few years ago—

Felt I had to grow up for the first time.
But I didn’t mind at all.
When we told our friends about our relationship, it caused a huge stir.
But the biggest shock came when I revealed Lyra’s true identity to Yasu and Ray.

The past three months…
They were the most special months of my life.
But still…

Some things quietly pile up over time.
They grow inside you.
Even if we kept going like this, even with ups and downs, even as we tried to always understand each other—

There would come a moment when we’d face our first true fracture.
One I wasn’t ready for.
And I would hear about it while sitting with Lyra under a tree in a park.

“Yuta, we need to talk about something important.” Her voice was more serious and emotional than ever.

“What’s wrong?” I slowly sat up, legs crossed, facing her. It scared me to see her this serious after so long.

It was hard to tell when Lyra was hiding something.
But it was easy to feel.

And that “something”…

Just as it was about to be revealed to the world, without her telling me—

I felt a crack in my heart that I couldn’t describe for the first time.

“Yuta, I’m going on a world tour.”