The hallway leading to the rooftop press stage felt longer than any tunnel Lian had ever walked through.
Every step echoed. Every breath trembled. Every heartbeat thudded like a warning.
Cameras flashed through the narrow windows as security guided them upstairs. Journalists shouted from the stairwell below. The entire building vibrated with noise — a living, breathing thing waiting to swallow him the moment he stepped outside.
Rian walked beside him.
Not behind. Not ahead. Beside.
His presence felt like armor. Solid. Warm. Unshakable. Every time Lian's steps faltered, Rian brushed their hands — casual to anyone watching, but grounding enough to keep Lian moving.
Jun hurried ahead of them, arguing with staff into his phone.
"—no, he's not doing a scripted apology. Stop asking — yes, I know he went viral — no, he didn't 'lose control,' he finally told the damn truth—"
Lian tried to breathe past the rising pressure in his chest.
Everything was happening too fast.
