.The makeup artist dabbed the last bit of powder across Han Jae-min's jawline. Cameras flashed outside the studio doors; fans screamed his name like the sound could break glass.
"Perfect as always," the stylist murmured.
Jae-min gave her his trademark smirk — that half-lazy, half-arrogant curve of his lips that made even staff blush. "Of course. When am I not?"
But the moment the lights dimmed and the laughter of his team faded behind him, the smirk disappeared. His phone buzzed once. A single message.
> CEO Seo will arrive at the after-party. Prepare accordingly.
No see you there. No you did well today.
Just business. Always business now.
Six years together, and Do-hyun still had Jae-min saved as "Han Jae-min — Lead Talent" in his phone.
The same man who once whispered "mine" against his neck at 3 a.m. now addressed him like a contract.
The after-party glittered with laughter, champagne, and masks. Jae-min could play this game — he was born for it. Cameras loved him. People adored him. But when Do-hyun walked in, everything froze.
Black suit. Polished shoes. That CEO aura that made everyone straighten up.
Jae-min's chest tightened anyway.
"Mr. Seo," one of the producers greeted warmly. "We're honored you could make it!"
Do-hyun nodded curtly. His gaze flicked across the room — landed on Jae-min — and stopped. For a heartbeat, something flickered in his eyes. Then gone.
Just the cold professionalism again.
Jae-min raised his champagne glass lazily. "Didn't expect you'd actually show up, boss."
Do-hyun's voice was low, formal. "It's an important event. Your movie's success affects the company."
"Of course," Jae-min drawled. "Everything's about the company, right?"
He smiled — sharp as glass.
Do-hyun's jaw tightened. "Don't start here."
"Why not? Everyone already thinks we're fighting."
Jae-min leaned closer, his whisper a dangerous purr. "You could at least pretend to care in public, you know. You're supposed to be good at acting cold — maybe try acting like you still like me."
"Han Jae-min," Do-hyun said quietly, his tone the kind that froze boardrooms. "Not now."
That used to be the voice that said come here. Now it only said don't cause trouble.
The noise of the party swelled again. Do-hyun turned away to speak to an investor.
Jae-min's smile didn't waver, but his fingers trembled around the glass stem. He took another sip, ignoring the burn in his throat.
---
Later, when the night ended and everyone left, Jae-min sat in his dressing room alone.
Do-hyun hadn't said goodbye. Not even a glance.
He took off his earrings slowly, staring at his reflection — the flawless idol everyone loved.
"Six years," he muttered. "You'd think I'd know how to read you by now."
The phone buzzed again.
A message from Do-hyun.
> Don't stay out too late. You have a morning shoot.
Jae-min stared at it for a long time before typing back:
> Yes, sir. CEO Seo.
He pressed send — then threw the phone onto the couch and laughed.
A brittle, tired sound.
"Fine," he whispered. "You want cold? I can be freezing."
Outside, Seoul's skyline shimmered with gold.
Somewhere in his penthouse office, Seo Do-hyun sat alone, the same message still open on his screen — his thumb hovering over Jae-min's name — but he didn't reply.
He just whispered to the empty room,
"Don't do this, Jae-min... please."
And the city kept shining — beautiful, distant, and heartbreakingly silent.
To be continued.....