The next morning, chaos hit before sunrise.
Kael woke up to the sound of his phone vibrating non-stop on the nightstand. His first thought was that it was the manager again—but when he saw the flood of notifications, his blood ran cold.
#Kaelan
#LUMINAVisualCouple
#KaelAndKlan
The hashtags were everywhere. His phone was blowing up with Twitter mentions, fan edits, screenshots from the live stream.
And then the headlines:
"LUMINA's Kael and Klan Steal Hearts as the Perfect Duo"
"Is There Something More Than Friendship?"
"Aurora's Rising Group Sparks Dating Rumors Among Fans"
Kael sat up, running a hand through his messy hair, his jaw tightening. This can't be happening.
A knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Kael-hyung," Tavi's voice called softly. "Manager wants everyone in the living room. Right now."
Kael threw on a hoodie and stepped out. The others were already gathered—Tavi, Sion, Eren, and Klan, who sat on the edge of the couch, his gray-blue eyes wide and anxious.
The manager stood in front of them, his expression grim. "What the hell happened yesterday?"
No one spoke.
"Do you realize you're trending for all the wrong reasons?!" The manager slammed his phone on the table, screen lighting up with the same hashtags Kael had seen earlier. "This is not good publicity. Dating rumors could destroy everything we've been building!"
Kael's fists clenched at his sides. "It's just fan shipping. It'll die down."
"No," the manager snapped. "It's not dying down—it's blowing up. If this gets worse, the company will take action. You know what that means."
Klan flinched. His fingers curled tightly in his lap.
Kael's chest burned. He knew exactly what "take action" meant—forced separation, staged dating scandals, maybe even pulling Klan from the group for a while. The thought made his stomach twist violently.
"We need to control the narrative," the manager continued. "No more unnecessary interactions on camera. No touching. No eye contact that can be misinterpreted. Got it?"
The silence was suffocating.
"Yes," Kael said finally, his voice low and sharp.
Klan nodded faintly, but his chest felt like it was caving in.
---
Hours later, they were at the studio filming for a variety show. Cameras everywhere. Fans watching through live feeds. Kael kept his distance like the manager ordered, sitting as far from Klan as possible on the panel.
But it was hell.
Every laugh Klan gave, every smile that wasn't directed at him felt like a knife. And the worst part? Klan looked just as miserable, his usual brightness dimmed under the weight of the manager's warning.
At one point during a break, Klan stepped outside for some air. Kael followed—ignoring the risk, ignoring everything.
"Klan," Kael called softly.
The omega turned, startled, his gray-blue eyes wide. "Kael, you shouldn't—"
"I don't care," Kael cut him off, his voice harsh but quiet. "I can't just sit there and pretend like nothing's wrong."
Klan swallowed hard. "The manager said—"
"Forget what he said," Kael growled, stepping closer. "You think I'm going to let them control how I look at you? How I feel when you're near me?"
Klan froze. His breath trembled. "Kael… don't say that."
"Why not?" Kael demanded, his amber eyes burning. "You think I can just turn this off? You think I can stop wanting—"
He stopped himself, jaw clenching, chest heaving. The words he almost said hung between them like smoke.
Before Klan could answer, a voice shouted from behind them.
"Hey! You two! We're rolling in five!"
Kael stepped back slowly, his gaze still locked on Klan's. "This isn't over," he muttered, before turning and walking away, leaving Klan trembling under the weight of everything unsaid.