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There was a bright light trying to break through the cracks in the moving bodies around us, and I saw it reflecting off the glass lens that had been raised above the heads of our team.

“Baek Jihoon! Is that Kaiya? Is it true?” they called again, closer now, and I saw one of the security team stumble before he righted himself, not losing his position around us.

Jihoon’s hand tightened on mine, nearly dragging me towards the car.

“Why did you lie to your fans? Are you going to apologise?” The person shouting didn’t seem to care about waiting for any response, because he kept throwing questions at us. “Do the other members know? Have they been lying for you?”

Jihoon didn’t take his eyes off me, and I felt him stiffen.

The car door was open for us, and Jihoon guided me in first, never letting go of my hand as I slid onto the leather seat.

“Kaiya! How long have you been with Baek Jihoon?” The question was barked at me, the tone and language used clearly intended to be disrespectful. Honourifics didn’t bother me, but this slight did not go unnoticed by Jihoon, and his jaw clenched as he slid in beside me, shutting the car door. He hadn’t let go of my hand once since we got off the plane, and he held onto it tightly now, bringing it to his mouth to press a kiss there.

“I’m sorry, jagiya,” he said roughly. “I hoped they would not be there.”

“How did they know?” I asked in disbelief.

“They always know,” he said tiredly, running his fingers over my knuckles.

I sat back against the leather seat, staring out the window as we drove into Busan and trying to pretend that my heart wasn’t thumping erratically.

Jihoon raised his other hand to my cheek, and I startled as he turned my face back to his. He dragged his thumb gently over my bottom lip, freeing it from my teeth. I hadn’t even noticed.

“Not so hard,” he murmured. “You’ll make it bleed.”

I nodded, and tried to smile, but it felt weak.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brows pulling together.

“Are you?” I deflected.

“Not really,” he admitted. “If it was just me, I would not care. But they are coming for you now.” His voice was strained, and he pulled away to lean against the seat, his fist clenching reflexively on his knee.

I knew he hated the intrusive nature of the tabloids. I’d had it directed at me for less than two days, and I could see why. I felt antsy and overstimulated just from that brief dash to the car, and that all went without going into their articles, which were often deliberately misrepresented.

“Let them come,” I said in a tone that implied more bravery than I felt, because they were coming, regardless of how I felt.

We pulled up at a hotel in the centre of the city. I knew one had been arranged for us last-minute because the tour was technically still on break until tomorrow. Most of the crew weren’t in Busan yet. We were a day early but I assumed my normal hotel arrangements would still exist from tomorrow, when the schedule resumed.

I was apprehensive about seeing Sihyeon, especially since she’d outright asked me about Jihoon in Dubai. I hadn’t seen her in weeks, and I didn’t know how I’d look her in the eye. But I’d deal with that tomorrow. Today, I would hide in a hotel room with my boyfriend and let the world explode around us.

October 5th

I woke up almost relieved to be back on schedule. Jihoon was up before dawn, heading down to the hotel’s gym to work out with Lee, who had flown back last night. The rest of the group were flying in from Seoul later this morning. Our phones remained off, face-down on the desk across the room. A manager was staying down the hall, and everything was filtered through him. Becka had the number of the phone in our room, but so far it had remained silent.

I stayed in bed, content to drift back to sleep until Jihoon woke me up when he returned.

“Urgh,” I laughed, “you’re all gross and sweaty.” I tried to bat him away, but the man was a wall of muscle.

“Gross?” He smirked, pressing hot kisses along the line of my neck and down to my collarbone, dragging his tongue across my skin. He stroked his hands down my sides until he could hitch my legs around his narrow hips.

“What a cruel thing to say about your boyfriend.”

I watched him peel off his damp t-shirt, and suddenly… not so gross anymore.

The midday sun was pale and weak, barely cutting through the rain clouds that blanketed Busan. Jihoon and I lay in bed, knowing we’d have to emerge but clinging to our last few moments of peace.

He told me he’d spoken with the other guys this morning, and I listened, trying to keep my face neutral.