The practice room was colder than usual, or maybe it was me. I sat against the mirrored wall, towel around my neck, watching Taehyung laughing with Jimin at the other end of the room. He was still the same—gummy smile, warm eyes, soft voice—but everything felt different now. We had stopped hiding. The group knew. Our secret was no longer a secret.
It should have been a relief. Some nights it was. When Taehyung leaned into me backstage, when our knees brushed under the dinner table, when we rehearsed until dawn and he still waited for me outside the shower room with a bottle of water. But the daylight was heavier. Managers checked our schedules twice. Staff asked questions they never asked before. I could feel eyes on us, not from hate but from curiosity, like they were trying to calculate how this would affect everything.
I glanced up and caught Seokjin watching me in the mirror. He didn't look angry. Just thoughtful. Like a big brother who had already decided not to interfere but still worried. I gave him a small smile. He returned it, then clapped his hands to get us moving. "From the top," he said, voice steady.
We lined up. Music filled the room. My body moved on autopilot, but my head kept drifting. I thought about the last live stream. The comments had been fast, scrolling, some of them guessing, some of them teasing. "Why does Jungkook look happier these days?" "Taehyung is glowing!" "Are they dating?"
It was subtle but loud enough for me to notice. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but inside I was a storm. I wanted to protect us. I wanted to show the world. Both at once.
"Hyung," I whispered to Taehyung during a break, my voice low. "Do you ever think about the fans?"
He wiped sweat from his forehead and looked at me with that calm, steady gaze. "Every day. But I think about you first."
Those words hit me like a second heartbeat. I swallowed, looking away, because if I stared too long, I would forget where we were. The studio door opened and Namjoon walked in with a clipboard. His expression was neutral, but his tone was lighter than usual. "Management wants you two to rest after the showcase. No interviews this week. They're… giving space."
I nodded. Space was good. Space was necessary. But space also meant they knew.
When practice ended, I stayed behind. The others filed out, talking, laughing, making weekend plans. I sat on the floor, scrolling through our fan app, reading messages. Some were sweet. Some were suspicious. My fingers trembled. Then Taehyung crouched beside me, his hand covering mine, warm and steady.
"Don't read too much," he said. "We're still us. That's all."
I turned to him, heart tight, and whispered, "I'm not scared of us. I'm scared of losing what we've built."
He smiled, soft and sure. "Then let's build more."
I leaned my forehead against his shoulder, the sound of distant footsteps fading. For a moment, the world outside disappeared.
But I knew this was only the beginning. The stage lights would come back on. Cameras would start rolling. And everything about us—our love, our music, our lives—would be watched more closely than ever.