By morning, the silence was over.
The official statement went out at 7:00 AM sharp—
"There is no romantic relationship between LUMINA's Kael and Klan. The photo was taken out of context and misinterpreted."
The company's damage control machine moved fast. News outlets flooded with follow-ups. The original post was flagged and removed. And the name Eira, from the popular girl group Aurora, started trending within the hour.
Kael agreed to it.
On paper.
In interviews.
In rehearsed public smiles.
But behind the scenes, something in him had gone very, very quiet.
---
That evening, LUMINA stood in a private studio for the upcoming variety show taping. Cameras were being tested. Stylists were fixing hair and adjusting mics.
Kael sat in the makeup chair, scrolling through his phone with a dead expression until the stylist gently tapped his shoulder.
"Kael-ssi, she's here."
He looked up.
Eira.
She was beautiful—flawless in the polished, idol-perfect way. Platinum blonde hair, wide violet eyes, and a practiced smile that didn't quite reach them.
"Kael," she greeted, her voice low and professional. "Nice to see you again."
"You too," he said, matching her tone.
She waited until the staff had cleared the room before her mask dropped. "So. This is what they've reduced us to, huh?"
Kael gave a humorless smile. "Guess we're the sacrificial lambs today."
"I don't like this any more than you do," she muttered, pulling out a compact mirror. "But they're dangling a solo debut over my head. I play girlfriend for a few months, I get my stage."
Kael looked at her sharply. "At least they're giving you something."
She met his eyes. "And you? What are you getting out of this?"
He hesitated. Then said flatly, "Time."
"Time for what?"
Kael's gaze flicked toward the hallway, where Klan was sitting with the other members—laughing at something Tavi said, pretending nothing had changed.
Kael's voice dropped to a whisper. "Time to destroy the people who think they own us."
---
Later that night, the first public photo was released:
Kael and Eira exiting a studio side by side, not holding hands but close enough to spark attention. Her gaze playful. His expression unreadable.
The fans devoured it.
Some cheered.
Some cried.
But all of them forgot about the balcony photo.
Almost.
Because deep in the fandom's private corners, there were whispers. Side-by-sides. Fan cams. Subtle patterns noticed by the observant few.
Kael doesn't look at Eira the way he looks at Klan.
---
Back at the dorm, Klan stood on the balcony again.
He stared out at the city lights, hugging himself tightly. He had smiled for the cameras all day. Laughed with the members. Told everyone he was fine.
But he wasn't.
The door slid open behind him. Quiet steps.
Klan didn't turn. "How was your fake date?"
Kael joined him at the railing, arms brushing. "Exhausting."
Klan laughed softly, bitter. "You're good at pretending."
Kael turned to him, his voice low. "Not when it comes to you."
Klan finally looked at him, eyes glassy. "Why are you doing this?"
Kael stepped closer. "Because I need to protect you. Even if it means becoming everything I hate for a while."
Klan's lip trembled. "And if they find out we're still… us?"
Kael leaned in, forehead pressed to his. "Then we burn it all. Together."
And for that moment, even under the weight of a thousand lies, it felt like the truth was enough.
---