The quiet hum of instruments being tuned was different today. It was laced with a palpable current of anticipation, a nervous energy that vibrated through the air like a high-strung violin string. The musicians were not merely preparing for another rehearsal; they were waiting for news. Whispers rippled through the string section and buzzed around the brass players. Everyone was looking toward the podium, waiting for the first sign of their conductor.
When Seo Jaemin walked in, the room went completely silent. He was dressed in his usual crisp white shirt, dark trousers and dark grey scarf, but his posture seemed a little more rigid than before. His eyes, normally scanning the room with calm focus, were now fixed firmly on his music stand. He made no direct eye contact with anyone, least of all the First Chair.
Kang Do-hyun, already seated, watched him with a focused intensity. He saw the slight tremor in Jaemin's hands as he adjusted the music, the quick, averted glance that never quite landed on his face. Do-hyun's lips settled into a firm, deliberate line. Jaemin could pretend the night before hadn't happened, but Do-hyun wasn't going to let that moment die. His alpha instincts, once dormant and reserved, were now fully engaged. He would keep his pursuit quiet, but it was absolute.
Jaemin cleared his throat, the sound unusually loud in the stillness. "Good morning, everyone." He took a deep breath. "I've received news from Manager Park Sangho: The Revival Gala has been officially approved by the board. The publicity posters and the program booklets are being printed as we speak."
A collective gasp swept through the orchestra, followed by a wave of excited chatter. Kim Seojun leaned over and whispered something to Jung Eunji, his mouth open in awe. A couple of the younger musicians in the back row clapped. The Revival Gala, for so long a far-off, impossible dream, was now a concrete reality, a date set in stone.
"This is it," Jaemin said, his voice gaining strength as he spoke, even as his eyes continued to avoid Do-hyun's. "We have two weeks. Our program will consist of the Adagio for Strings, Brahms' Violin Concerto in D Major, Schubert's Symphony No. 9. We're going to show them what this orchestra is capable of."
Do-hyun's head shot up. The Brahms. The notoriously difficult piece was his personal favorite, something he had been dying to play but had resigned himself to never performing with an orchestra, since he had chosen to follow in his father's footsteps as a concertmaster. Even when Jaemin had assigned it to him as a challenge, Do-hyun never really let himself believe that he would get to play it as a soloist in front of a live audience.
A First Chair making his debut as a soloist. His alpha instincts hummed, a low, satisfied vibration in his chest. This wasn't just a professional choice; it was an intimate, almost brazen invitation.
The energy in the room shifted. Excitement mingled with a return of the old pressure. A wind player raised a tentative hand. "Conductor-nim, isn't the Schubert a bit much? It's… very demanding."
Jaemin's smile was gentle, but with a hint of tension only Do-hyun, who was watching him closely, noticed. "It's a challenge we're ready for."
But before any more questions could be raised, Do-hyun's voice cut through the tension. "He's right," he said, not looking at anyone but Jaemin. "The Schubert requires a united front, but our sound has never been more cohesive. It's what we've been rehearsing for. We can do this."
Jaemin's eyes flickered to Do-hyun's face for a brief, fleeting moment, a spark of gratitude in his gaze.
The rehearsal began. Jaemin's conducting was brilliant, commanding, but his movements were a little stiff, a little too precise. He was back in his professional armor, using the music as a shield.
Do-hyun, in turn, was a steady, immovable force. When Jaemin's baton wavered for a second during a complex passage, Do-hyun didn't falter, his violin leading the section with unwavering confidence, a silent promise. When a musician glanced at Do-hyun with a hint of a question in their eyes, he simply gave a firm nod toward the podium, redirecting their attention.
At the mid-rehearsal break, Jaemin, instead of taking his usual seat near the others, went to the far end of the hall, pretending to examine a stack of sheet music. He didn't need to look to know he was there; a hot prickling at the back of his neck was all the warning he needed.
A moment later, Do-hyun was there, leaning against the wall behind him. He didn't say anything, just stood there, quiet and solid. The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of the previous night.
Finally, Jaemin broke it, his voice a tight whisper. "Look, Kang Do-hyun-ssi, I… I think we should just… forget about last night."
Do-hyun simply shook his head, a small, knowing smile on his face. "I'm not going to forget about it, Jaemin-nim. I won't let you." He took a step closer, his voice dropping low so that only Jaemin could hear. "No matter what, I'm in this with you. That includes you trying to run away from me."
A shiver ran through Jaemin's body, although not unpleasant, and certainly not from any sense of cold. "That sounds like something a stalker would say," he muttered, trying not to blush.
Do-hyun laughed, but his eyes flashed. "It does, doesn't it! But I'm not chasing you to scare you; you've been running long enough. I'm chasing you to make sure you can finally stop." His voice dropped lower as he leaned in, eyes full of unmistakable sincerity. "And when you do, I want to be the one you can finally trust with your music, and your life."