The news broke like wildfire, and though Soojin had known it was coming—the carefully staged paparazzi photos, the scripted lines Jae had been told to deliver—seeing it plastered across every screen still knocked the breath from her lungs.
She sat curled up on the couch in her apartment, the glow of her phone screen casting harsh light over her pale face. Her thumb scrolled endlessly, unable to stop even though each new headline sliced deeper.
> "K-Pop's Golden Boy and Hollywood's Darling: The Romance of Jae Kang and Mina Choi."
"The perfect power couple? Fans think so!"
"Mina glows as she speaks of her 'chemistry' with Jae Kang."
The photos were everywhere. Mina's hand brushing Jae's arm outside a luxury restaurant, the two of them caught laughing at something during a late-night shoot, Jae leaning close to whisper in her ear on a red carpet. Soojin's chest constricted. She knew it was all a production, a glossy façade crafted by Daniel Jung and the PR team. She knew it.
But knowing did nothing to dull the ache.
The kettle whistled shrilly in her small kitchen. She hadn't even realized she'd set it to boil. For a long second she stayed motionless, staring at the frozen image of Jae and Mina on her phone, both looking so breathtaking it seemed almost sinful. Then, with a shaky exhale, she forced herself to move.
Her legs felt heavy as she walked to the kitchen. She turned off the burner, poured water into her mug, dropped in the teabag—anything to keep her hands busy. Anything to keep her from opening another article.
"Don't read the comments," Nari had told her just yesterday. "Promise me, Soojin. Don't."
She had promised. But the promise had lasted only until the first headline appeared. Then she had scrolled, unable to look away, as strangers dissected her husband's supposed romance, as if their words had any authority over her reality.
Her tea sat untouched as she padded back into the living room. She curled up again, hugging a pillow to her chest. The apartment was too quiet, the kind of silence that made every thought ring louder in her skull. She wanted to call him. She wanted to demand answers, reassurance, something.
But when she unlocked her phone, her chat with Jae showed no new messages. His last words still glared at her:
> "Don't worry. It's just PR."
Just PR.
The words mocked her now. What did "just PR" mean when the entire world was swooning over his chemistry with another woman? What did "just PR" mean when Soojin couldn't even claim him as her husband in public, couldn't even post a single candid photo of them together, while Mina Choi was being paraded at his side?
Her throat tightened. She buried her face in the pillow, muffling a scream that came out raw and helpless.
---
Later that night, her phone buzzed. She grabbed it instinctively, pulse leaping, but her heart fell when she saw Nari's name.
"Unnie?" Soojin's voice cracked as she answered.
"You've been reading, haven't you?" Nari's tone was firm but laced with worry.
"I tried not to." Her whisper was barely audible.
Nari sighed on the other end. "Come stay at my place for a while. It'll help, being away from all that noise."
"I can't. I have filming tomorrow morning."
"Then at least turn off your phone. Don't let them get in your head."
Soojin wanted to say yes. She wanted to be strong. But instead she whispered, "I just… I feel invisible, Nari. Everyone thinks he belongs to her. And I can't do anything about it."
There was a long silence. Then Nari's voice softened. "You're not invisible. He married you, Soojin. Not her. Don't let a machine-made story make you forget that."
Her friend's words were kind, but they didn't quiet the hollow ache in her chest.
---
Across the city, Jae Kang was enduring his own version of hell.
The hotel suite in Los Angeles looked glamorous in photos, but inside, it was a cage. Daniel Jung paced the carpet, phone glued to his ear, firing off instructions in rapid English. Mina Choi sat at the vanity, fresh from hair and makeup, humming as she practiced smiling for the cameras.
And Jae—Jae sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, fingers clenched together.
"Tomorrow morning," Daniel said, snapping his phone shut. "Breakfast shoot with Mina at the Beverly Hills Café. Paparazzi already alerted. After that, Vogue wants a joint interview. Keep it clean. Keep it charming."
Jae's jaw ticked. "How long is this going to drag on?"
"Until it stops working. Which means not anytime soon."
"I told you I don't want this."
Daniel's expression hardened. "And I told you the world doesn't revolve around what you want. Your face, your career—everything depends on public favor. One slip, one crack, and you're done. You know that."
Jae closed his eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He thought of Soojin alone in Seoul. He thought of her expression when she saw the first headlines, the way her shoulders would curl in on themselves like she was trying to disappear. Guilt stabbed him sharp and deep.
But when he opened his eyes, Mina was watching him in the mirror, her expression soft, almost wistful.
"You don't have to look so miserable," she said gently. "It's not that bad. We're just acting."
Acting.
Jae forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah. Acting."
But the weight in his chest didn't lift.
---
Back in Seoul, Soojin's filming wrapped late. She exited the studio to find a knot of reporters waiting outside the gate. Flashbulbs erupted the moment she appeared, and her manager instantly moved in front of her, shielding her as questions rang out.
"Soojin-ssi! What do you think of Jae Kang and Mina Choi's relationship?"
"Do you feel threatened by their popularity?"
"Are you and Hwan Lee more than just co-stars?"
Soojin's heart lurched. She kept her head down, lips pressed tight, letting her manager guide her swiftly into the van. But inside, her pulse thundered. They had never dared ask her about Jae before. The rumors were weaving a net, and somehow, she was being pulled into it.
The van door slammed shut. Her manager let out a curse under his breath. "Ignore them. Don't say a word, Soojin. Clara will have my head if you slip."
She nodded numbly, staring out the tinted window as the crowd of reporters blurred past. The city lights smeared across the glass like streaks of paint, and she wondered how long she could keep pretending that none of this touched her.
When she finally reached her apartment, exhaustion weighed down every step. She dropped her bag by the door and sank onto the couch again. Her phone buzzed once more, and her heart leapt.
This time, it was him.
Jae: You okay?
Her fingers hovered over the screen. A thousand words swelled in her throat—anger, hurt, longing. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to beg him to come home. She wanted to tell him she wasn't okay, that she was drowning.
But instead, she typed two words:
Soojin: I'm fine.
And then she set the phone facedown, her chest aching with everything left unsaid.
---
The next morning, the news cycle doubled down. New photos emerged: Jae and Mina laughing over breakfast, her hand brushing his across the table, his smile bright and unguarded.
Soojin stared at the image on her tablet while on set. The makeup artist tried to distract her with chatter, but she barely heard a word. Her entire being was focused on that one photo, the way Jae's hand lingered near Mina's, the ease in his expression.
She reminded herself: It's staged. It's all staged.
But her body didn't believe it. The ache in her chest told her otherwise.
---
That night, Nari called again.
"You need to stop torturing yourself," her friend insisted. "You're feeding the monster. Do you want them to break you?"
Soojin pressed her forehead against the cool glass of her window, staring out at the city below. "I don't know how much longer I can do this."
"Then tell him. Tell Jae exactly how you feel. Stop letting him hide behind excuses."
Her chest tightened. She thought of his last message, his brief You okay? and her own hollow I'm fine. She thought of his voice telling her, Don't make this harder.
Her eyes stung with unshed tears. "What if I tell him and he still chooses them? What if I lose him completely?"
Nari's voice softened. "Then at least you'll know where you stand. But right now? You're the one disappearing, Soojin. Don't let them erase you."
---
When Soojin finally collapsed into bed, sleep came fitful and jagged. Dreams tangled with memories—Jae's laughter in the early days, the warmth of his hand clasped around hers, the night he had slipped a ring onto her finger with trembling sincerity.
And then the dream shifted, replaced with images of Mina in glittering gowns, Jae smiling at her side, cameras exploding all around.
Soojin woke with tears on her cheeks.
She lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, and for the first time, a thought slipped into her mind that terrified her.
What if this is how it ends? Not with a scandal. Not with a confession. But with me slowly fading, until one day I'm no longer his wife, just a forgotten shadow in the corner of his story.
The silence pressed down, heavy and suffocating. And though she reached for her phone, though she typed Jae's name into the chat, she couldn't bring herself to press send.
Her words remained trapped in her chest, unspoken, as the night stretched endlessly ahead.