The Number One Star in the Interstellar Era [BL]

AFTER arriving on Auralis, Astrid, Ellis, and the rest of the Polaris staff went straight to their booked hotel. They weren’t there to rest—they were there to get Astrid ready. The final viewing party would start in just thirty minutes. Even though Astrid planned to attend secretly, he still needed to be styled like a celebrity. Especially since he would be holding another autograph session right after.

Just like at the other two viewing parties, Astrid had no trouble getting inside the venue. But as he walked toward the front row of the theater, he suddenly felt eyes on him. He glanced around, but with so many people, it was impossible to tell exactly where the stare was coming from.

What surprised him was that the gaze didn’t feel threatening. It wasn’t hostile or cold. Instead, it felt… hungry. Like someone looking at something they wanted to devour.

He shook his head. What kind of comparison was that? He was probably just imagining it. So he ignored the feeling and sat down.

But as the movie played, that gaze never left him. The whole time, he could feel it burning into the back of his head. At first, he didn’t pay it much mind, but now? Now it was making him nervous.

Maybe a fan had recognized him. That would be the best-case scenario. The worst case? Someone had followed him here—one good at hiding their darker intentions.

Astrid shook his head again. Now he was just being paranoid. Still, there was nothing wrong with being careful. Maybe he should mention it to the security team—just in case.

Before revealing himself to the fans after the movie ended, he sent Ellis a quick message. He asked her to warn the security team to stay extra alert—just to be safe.

When Astrid finally stepped forward and revealed himself, the room erupted—but not in the way he expected.

The fans’ reactions were even more explosive than at the last two viewing parties. Their cheers were louder, their faces brighter, their excitement so intense the air itself seemed to crackle with it. Yet despite all that energy, not a single chair was knocked over. No one shoved or pushed to get closer to him.

Instead, they stood where they were, their bodies tense with the effort of holding themselves back. Some clenched their fists at their sides. Others bit their lips, as if physically stopping themselves from rushing forward. Then, without any instruction, they began to move—walking, not running, toward the stage. They formed a line so orderly it looked rehearsed, each person waiting their turn with unnatural patience.

Astrid watched, baffled. Were the people on this planet just naturally more patient? More disciplined? Or had the security team done something differently without telling him?

Whatever the reason, the result was the same: a crowd buzzing with wild excitement, yet moving with calmness. It was impressive. And honestly, a little strange.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The fans had already lined up so neatly, so patiently—the least he could do was give them his full attention.

So he pushed the thought aside and focused on the people in front of him.

But even as he focused on interacting with the fans, he felt that same heavy gaze pressing against him again. He did his best to push the feeling aside, forcing himself to concentrate on the people in front of him instead.

He reminded himself that the security team assigned to him were professionals—highly skilled and thoroughly trained to handle any potential threats. There was no reason to worry unnecessarily.

And if things truly did take a bad turn… if the owner of that lingering stare actually meant him harm… well, he still had his mental strength to rely on. He could use it to protect himself and everyone nearby if the situation called for it.

But smiling for the crowd and pretending everything was perfectly fine was harder than he expected. His face hurt from keeping that pleasant expression plastered on for so long. Worse, the constant awareness of that unseen gaze had given him a dull, throbbing headache building behind his eyes.

If he ever found the person responsible for putting him through this, he’d make sure they regretted it. He’d give them a headache so brutal it would make their skull feel like it was splitting in two.

Hours passed like that, and now only about ten people remained in line. Astrid mentally encouraged himself, repeating that just a little longer and this would finally be over. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d even discover who had been staring at him this whole time.

“Hi!” he greeted the next person in line—a woman in her twenties clutching a Terminal to her chest.

“O-oh! Hi, Aster—I mean, Astrid!” she stammered, then flushed at her own mistake. “Sorry, I’m so used to calling you online by your nickname.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I answer to both.” Relaxing his shoulders, he tilted his head. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

Her nervousness melted instantly. “It was amazing! I love all your scenes together with Charlotte.”

Astrid smiled, picking up the stylus. “Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He gestured to her Terminal. “Where should I sign?”

She practically shoved it at him, then froze. “Wait—can you write ‘To Lina’? That’s me. I mean, my name. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoed playfully, scribbling neatly before handing it back. “There you go, Lina.”

She stared at the signature like it might vanish. “Thank you. Really. I’ve followed your work since [The Sleeping God].” A pause. “Um. Can I…?” She lifted her Terminal hesitantly.

“Photo? Of course.” He leaned in slightly as she snapped the shot, then offered a casual wave. “Take care, yeah?”

Lina beamed, hugging her Terminal. “You too! And—good luck with your next project!”

As she walked away, Astrid exhaled, rolling his stiff shoulders.

The next eight people passed by in a blur of quick greetings, signatures, and photos. Before he knew it, only one person remained.

They held out their Terminal with a simple request: “Can you address it to your number one fan?”

The instant Astrid heard that voice, his head snapped up.

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