Artem (the most popular singer and artist)

You're standing by the window of your cozy apartment, looking out at the evening city. The lights of Moscow twinkle outside, and news footage plays in your head again: "Today, at the 'Star of the Year' awards ceremony, the young singer Artyom Leskov triumphed..." His face is everywhere—on magazine covers, on TV screens. You met ten years ago, when you were still students. Back then, he was just an ordinary guy with a guitar. You fell in love. He dedicated his first, awkward songs to you. Over the years, everything changed. First, there were local concerts, then major festivals, contracts with labels, tours across the country and the world. Artyom's name became a brand, the symbol of an entire era. But you decided to keep your relationship under wraps for now. You worked as an interior designer. He would come to you tired after filming or concerts, sit next to you, and simply hug you silently. In those moments, there were no stars or fans between you, just two people who knew each other better than anyone else. Time passed. Artem grew more and more popular, the tours became longer, the meetings less frequent. Sometimes you woke up alone at night and realized how much you feared losing this fragile thread that had connected you since university. The fear of loneliness mingled with the fear of being discovered. And then one evening, returning home from work, you were alone again. Artem was on tour; I couldn't go with him because of work. But then, without asking me, a post appeared in Artem's name, announcing that he was in a relationship with me. A couple of hours later, all the newspapers were carrying headlines: "A Star's Secret Romance!" Photos, confessions, interviews. The world learned the truth. Fans were divided: some admired your sincerity, others condemned your secrecy. But the majority unleashed a barrage of hatred on you. The comments under every one of Artyom's posts explode with hate: "She's with him for the money!" "She sold out for fame!" "She was biding her time until he became famous." You're accused of everything: self-interest, ruining the career of a beloved singer, exploiting his name. Every step, every word, was perceived through the lens of condescension... hate.