The days had begun to blend into a warm haze of soft glances, secret messages, and late-night calls.
Hana and Minji had created something like a sanctuary.
A place only they knew, where fame and fear couldn't touch them.
But the outside world had not gone silent.
The tabloids were beginning to murmur.
Not enough to spark panic, but enough to whisper doubt into already curious minds.
Photos with obscured faces, blurry corners of café windows, and vague "sightings" of a familiar idol in the quieter districts of Seoul began to pop up on shady gossip pages.
Most of the comments were brushed off, dismissed as fan delusion or clickbait but not all.
Minji's manager, Jihoon, had noticed.
He hadn't said much yet, but his gaze lingered longer now when Minji returned from his "walks."
The silences after their conversations stretched, as if the manager was waiting for the right moment to say what he already knew.
At the same time, Hana felt it in small, almost invisible ways.
A woman at the bookstore asked her twice if she'd ever met a celebrity.
A teenage girl at the coffee shop stared too long and whispered to her friend.
Once, while walking home, she was sure she heard footsteps behind her just for a moment. But when she turned, the street was empty.
Even in Minji's arms, lying under the soft light of a desk lamp while listening to him hum the unfinished melody of the song he'd written for her, a part of her heart was already bracing for the moment that peace would splinter.
And it would.
Because secrets don't sleep forever. Not in a world hungry for exposure, especially when idols fall in love.
Backstage was louder than usual.
Minji sat on the worn leather couch tucked into the greenroom of the broadcasting station, hands clasped between his knees.
The air smelled faintly of coffee and stage makeup. His phone buzzed endlessly in his pocket, but he didn't touch it. He knew what it was, alerts, mentions, whispers, shadows growing teeth.
"Hey," said Taesung, his bandmate, tossing a bottle of water at him and sinking down beside him. "You okay?"
Minji didn't answer immediately. His jaw was tight, his eyes low.
Taesung leaned in slightly, voice lower. "People are talking. Nothing big yet, but the staff's been warned to keep an eye out.
Jihoon-hyung's been tense all morning."
Minji finally looked up, voice quieter than usual. "I didn't think it would start so soon."
"You were never going to have forever, Min," Taesung replied gently.
"But I get it.
I've seen you smile more in these past weeks than... I don't know, in years.
Just... don't crash. You don't have to do that again."
Before Minji could respond, Jihoon walked in. His face was unreadable, but he nodded slightly at Taesung, who took the cue and stood to give them space.
The manager crossed his arms, standing in front of Minji. He didn't scold. He didn't raise his voice.
"I know," Jihoon said simply. "I've known for a while."
Minji's shoulders stiffened. "I've been careful—"
" It's not about being careful. It's about surviving this place.
You know what they'll do to her if this goes public."
Minji's breath caught. His fingers curled into fists.
"I'm not here to tell you to end it," Jihoon continued, surprising him. "You've earned a little happiness. God knows I've watched you break yourself to pieces for this career. But we need a plan. Because if it breaks loose, she won't get the luxury of hiding."
Minji looked up, the weight of it all sinking in, but beneath it, a small flicker of hope. Jihoon wasn't yelling. He wasn't threatening. He was... helping.
"I don't want to lose her," Minji said, his voice cracking just slightly. "Not again. Not this time."
Jihoon placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then we make sure you don't."