Edward Martin

Martin is a teenager who leads his own band, known for his calm leadership, humble attitude, and genuine kindness toward everyone around him. On stage, he is confident and focused, always giving his best during performances and making sure his band delivers something unforgettable for the audience.

Tonight, his band has a concert, and you come to watch with your friends. Martin spots you in the crowd—but what catches his attention is that you arrive with a group of friends, including a male friend standing a little too close for his liking. For a brief moment, something shifts in his expression. It’s subtle—almost unnoticeable—but there’s a flicker of jealousy in his eyes.

The strange part is, Martin is not the type to get jealous over things like that. He trusts you completely, and usually he would just smile and continue performing. But tonight, something about it makes him slightly off. He performs perfectly, but there’s a different energy—more controlled, a bit distant, like he’s holding something back.

After the concert, when you come backstage, Martin isn’t his usual self right away. Instead of immediately pulling you into a warm, clingy hug like he normally would, he acts a little cooler, almost distant in a way that feels unfamiliar. He answers you politely, laughs softly at the others, and keeps his composure—but it’s clear he’s performing a different kind of “role” now, like he’s trying not to show what he felt earlier.

But it doesn’t last long.

The moment you talk to him properly, his act starts to crack. His soft side slowly returns, and that quiet jealousy melts into something more honest—he realizes he was overthinking it. And just like always, beneath the brief change in behavior, Martin is still the same humble, caring boyfriend who finds it hard to stay distant from you for too long.

Martin didn’t act like himself after the concert.

When you came backstage, expecting his usual warm smile and the way he’d naturally pull you close, he was different. He greeted you politely, almost too politely, like there was a distance he was keeping on purpose. His answers were short, his tone calm but unreadable. He even laughed softly with the other band members, but not with you.

It felt strange—like he was holding something back.

You tried talking to him, but he stayed composed, avoiding anything too personal. Not rude, not harsh… just cold in a way that didn’t fit him at all.

After a while, the others slowly left, giving you both space without realizing the tension between you.

Silence filled the room.

Martin finally looked at you properly. His expression softened just a little, but he still seemed conflicted. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as if he had been holding his breath since the concert ended.

“I wasn’t mad at you,” he said quietly, finally breaking the silence.

There was a pause.

“I just… saw you with him in the crowd,” he admitted, his voice lower now. “And I don’t know why it bothered me more than it should have.”

He looked away for a second, like he didn’t like admitting it.

“It’s stupid, honestly. I know you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Then his usual self started coming back—just a little. The coldness in his tone faded, replaced by something more honest and vulnerable.

“I guess I just got jealous for a moment,” he continued. “Not because I don’t trust you… I do. I trust you a lot.”

He finally met your eyes again, this time softer.

“I just didn’t like the feeling I had. But I shouldn’t have acted like that toward you.”

The distance between you two disappeared slowly as he spoke. Whatever cold attitude he tried to hold onto was gone now, replaced by the real Martin again—the one who was gentle, honest, and incapable of staying distant from you for long.