Frost's POV
I was just about to step onto the red carpet.
Flashes burst like fireworks, fans screamed from both sides, and the spotlight was completely on Rabin and Raya. They stood center stage — the agency's perfect pair. Smiling, shining, untouchable.
But just for a moment, my eyes drifted to the side — and that's when I saw her.
Y/N.
She wasn't in the spotlight. She stood behind the crowd, half-hidden, soaked in rain. No makeup, no smile, no pretense.
Only raw emotion.
There was something in her eyes that hit me hard.
A mix of heartbreak, confusion… and quiet strength.
She looked at Rabin like she was still hoping he'd turn.
Just once.
But he didn't.
He didn't even know she was there.
And then — she turned away.
No drama. No breakdown.
She just disappeared into the street, swallowed by the storm.
And all I could think was…
Why does no one see what I see?
I don't know what came over me.
One second I was standing at the edge of the red carpet, lights flashing in my face — and the next, my heart was racing like I'd just missed something important.
Someone important.
Her.
I started walking.
I could hear my manager's voice behind me — sharp, confused, panicked —
"Frost! Where are you going? The press—!"
But it was all static to me.
Because she was walking away.
Alone.
In the rain.
I didn't stop to think.
I just pushed past the crowd barriers, ignoring the stunned gasps, the phones raised toward me, the whispers — "Is that Frost Sandoval?"
None of it mattered.
Only she did.
She was halfway down the street already.
Her figure slightly hunched against the cold, the rain drenching her coat, her steps heavy — like her heart was dragging her down.
I ran.
"Y/N!" I called.
She didn't hear me. Or maybe she did, but didn't want to turn.
I caught up…
And stood in front of her, blocking her path.
She didn't look up.
Not even a glance.
Instead… she walked straight into me —
her forehead gently pressing against my chest.
I froze.
The rain poured down around us, but I didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
I could feel her shaking — whether from the cold or something deeper, I couldn't tell.
She stayed like that for just a second.
Then, just as I raised my hand — slowly, carefully — to cradle the back of her head…
She walked past me.
Without a word.
No explanation.
No glance back.
I stood still.
My hand still raised, hovering in the air like a silent confession.
And when I turned, I saw her walking — head down, rain clinging to her, steps heavy.
I didn't call her name again…didn't try to stop her.
I just… followed.
A quiet distance behind.
Soaking in the same storm.
If that's the only way I can be beside her tonight — even in silence, even unnoticed —
Then let it be like this.
Rabin's POV
She never showed up.
She never did.
Y/N…
You've changed.
Or maybe I never understood what you were really carrying inside.
The jubilee ended hours ago. The cameras left. The lights faded.
But the ache in my chest… only grew louder.
I returned home.
No lights.
No sound.
No trace of her warmth.
The apartment felt cold — not because of the air,
but because her presence was missing.
I walked to our room in silence.
Changed into my usual hoodie and sweatpants — like muscle memory.
Then sat on the edge of the couch. Waiting.
Midnight passed.
Then 1:00 a.m.
The rain hadn't stopped either. It just kept falling like it knew what tonight meant.
I couldn't take it anymore.
Something inside me itched — an urge to move, to find her, to understand.
So I grabbed my jacket and headed down the building.
Just to check…
Maybe… maybe she's on her way.
Maybe she took a detour.
Maybe she's somewhere nearby, and I'll just happen to run into her like fate does in movies.
But the streets were quiet.
Empty.
Except for the sound of rain dancing against the pavement.
I looked up at the sky, eyes half-closed, drenched.
And in the middle of that empty road —
I whispered to the night:
"Where are you, Y/N?"
Then—
a black sedan stops in front of me.
My breath caught.
The back door opened…
She.
She stepped out. Drenched from the rain but standing still — like the whole night froze around her.
And then…
Frost.
He was in the driver's seat.
He stepped out slowly, umbrella in hand.
My heart twisted.
Why him?
Why is she with him?
He didn't show up at the jubilee either — did they…?
I walked a few steps toward her, my voice trembling more from emotion than cold.
"Where were you?"
I searched her eyes.
"Why didn't you come?"
But she didn't answer.
She just stood there… tired, soaked, unreadable.
Then Frost spoke — calm, smug, sharp.
"Rab…"
He leaned against the door casually.
"If you don't take care of your little girl… don't blame me for snatching her away."
The world flipped in my head.
Before I knew it, I was in front of him — gripping his collar tightly.
"Don't you dare touch her!"
My voice cracked in anger.
"Don't you f*cking dare!"
He didn't fight back.
Didn't even flinch.
Just smirked.
Frost – "Then prove it. Prove you still matter to her."
He flicked his eyes toward Y/N.
"She's not the same girl you used to love like a secret."
I glanced back at her.
She still hadn't said a word.
Her eyes held storms I couldn't read.
But one thing was certain — I wasn't the only one hurting anymore.
Author's POV
Inside the apartment
Rabin stands at the door, still catching his breath from the confrontation with Frost.
Y/N walks past him, quietly placing her bag down. Her heels click faintly on the floor before silence takes over.
Rabin: "…Y/N…"
His voice barely audible — like he's afraid it might shatter something fragile between them.
Y/N: (without turning back)
"Rab… I'm tired."
He steps forward.
His hand gently wraps around her wrist, stopping her.
Rabin: "Did you leave me for him?"
She freezes.
Turns slowly — her eyes wide, hurt blooming behind them.
Y/N: "What…?"
Her voice cracks. Her eyes gleam, tears dangerously close.
Rabin: "You've changed…"
He lets go, voice rising slightly.
"You have changed so much, Y/N…"
Y/N: (voice trembling, breaking)
"I said I'm tired, Rabin. I'm too tired of everything now… You… Raya… the agency… the media… the fans…"
"…Everyone. Everything."
Rabin: "It's not what you think about Raya, please—"
Y/N: (cutting him off, whispering like she's finally breaking)
"It's okay, Rab. I'm stupid."
"My mind… my heart… they're stupid."
Her tears fall, silently.
Rabin stands still, his throat tightening. He opens his mouth — but no words come out. Just guilt. Regret.
Y/N: (barely holding her voice)
"I tried, Rabin. I tried so hard to match your world… your standard. But maybe…"
She lets out a short, shaky laugh.
"Maybe Raya's the only one who truly belongs beside you."
Silence.
The only sound now… is the rain knocking against the windows.
She walks away…
Leaving him standing alone in the center of the room, surrounded by everything — but feeling like he has nothing.
Y/N walks to her room — slowly, like every step is heavier than the last.
She opens the door, quietly closing it behind her.
The moment it clicks shut, her strength collapses.
She sinks to the floor, hands covering her mouth as her body shakes with muffled sobs. Her cries echo softly in the small room — a sound only meant for herself… or so she thought.
But on the other side of that door…
Rabin slumps down.
Back against her door, he slides to the floor, knees bent, head resting back. His eyes are red, his chest rising and falling too fast, too uneven.
His fingers clutch at his shirt — right over his heart, like it might stop it from cracking even more.
He hears her. Every single sob.
It pierces deeper than any headline, any scandal, any lie.
Rabin (softly, a whisper only for himself):
"Are you really… tired of me, Y/N?"
His voice is barely there, as if he's scared to say it louder might make it true.
A long silence follows. Just breathing. Just pain.
The wall between them — no thicker than paint and plaster —
feels like a thousand miles.
And yet neither of them moves.
Neither of them leaves.
They just sit there — separated by silence, held together by love… and breaking apart from everything else.
Author's Note:
I don't know if this chapter touched your emotions the way it did mine… but this is the first time I've ever sobbed while writing my own story.
Maybe it's the pain they're both holding in.
Maybe it's the silence between two people who love each other but don't know how to reach out anymore.
Maybe it's just… real.
Thank you for reading this far.
Let me know — did it hit your heart too?