“Idol!” I gasped, surprised. “Wait, you came in earlier? I completely forgot…” Guilt crept in as I realized I'd made him wait for hours. Judging by his sulking expression, he wasn’t thrilled about it either.

“It’s already late,” he said, standing and wandering over to look at my screen. “Are you done?”

“Just the first draft,” I replied, leaning back as he scanned the project.

“What’s this?” He pointed at another file labeled ‘Song’s Solo.’

“Nothing,” I said quickly, panic flaring. His curiosity only deepened, and before I could stop him, he hit play. My voice poured out of the speakers, making me cringe.

“Asshole,” I muttered, shoving him aside and shutting off the track.

“What was that?” he asked, his tone more intrigued than teasing.

“Just something I’ve been working on by myself,” I admitted reluctantly. The project was deeply personal, and having him hear it left me feeling exposed.

“It’s good,” he said with a grin. “I didn’t know you could sing. Are you planning to release it?”

“NO!” I nearly shouted, panicking at the mere thought. “It’s not ready—it’s not good enough. I’m not good enough.” The words came tumbling out before I could stop them.

“Okay, okay,” Idol said, raising his hands in surrender. “Come to dinner with me.” His tone left no room for argument.

“What? No. I’m not done,” I countered, though my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl.

“See? You’re starving. Come on.” He looked smug as I sighed in defeat.

“Fine,” I grumbled, grabbing my coat. As I pulled it on, I noticed him leaning over my workstation again.

“What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes.

“Nothing!” he replied with an innocent grin, stepping back. “Let’s go. I know a great place.” He slung an arm around my shoulders, which I promptly shrugged off as we headed out.

Outside, we ran into Pink and Big, both carrying food.

“Oh,” Pink said, surprised. “Song, Idol. We were just bringing you food. Mom called and said you’d barricaded yourself at work again…” Her eyes shifted to Idol, giving him a once-over. “You. Where are you taking my best friend?”

“Relax, Pink. Mom’s overreacting as usual,” I sighed. “You two are such busybodies.”

“I’m taking him to dinner,” Idol interjected smoothly. “You’re welcome to join us, or…” he added with a sly smile, “you can head upstairs and share your food with Milk. They’re still there.”

Pink’s eyes flicked toward the building, clearly tempted. She looked at Big, who shrugged in his usual easy going manner.

“I’ll be fine,” I urged her. “Go see Milk. I’ll text you when I get home.”

She hesitated only a moment before walking up to Idol. Though he towered over her, she didn’t back down, jabbing a finger at his chest. “I know what you’re doing. If you hurt Song, I swear to all that is holy, I will chop your manhood off.” Her voice was low, but standing next to Idol, I heard every word.

“Pink!” I exclaimed, mortified.

Idol, to his credit, simply smiled—though there was something tense about it. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, lowering her hand respectfully.

Satisfied, Pink nodded and turned to Big, dragging him toward the building. “Don’t forget to text me, Song!” she called over her shoulder, her earlier threat forgotten.

Big waved silently, and they disappeared inside.

“She’s just looking out for me,” I explained awkwardly, turning back to Idol, who still had that strained smile on his face.

“I didn’t say anything,” he replied with a shrug.

“You didn’t have to. Stop smiling like that—it’s creeping me out,” I said, giving his arm a light slap.

His expression shifted to a playful frown. “I’m hungry. Can we go now?”

“Fine,” I grumbled, falling into step beside him.

The restaurant was close by, a small, exclusive spot owned by Ice’s uncle. It was a haven for artists from the company—a place where privacy was guaranteed. Even if tables were available, you couldn’t just walk in and get one. You either needed to know the owner personally or be with someone who did. For the famous, it was a rare space to relax without worrying about cameras.

Idol ordered for us, claiming he already knew the best dishes. That was fine with me—I wasn’t picky and if he was happy about getting to choose for me, who was I to ruin that.

While we waited for the food, I couldn’t help but notice him staring at me. His gaze was direct, searching, and unsettling. Did I have something on my face? What was he thinking?

“If you have a question, just ask,” I finally said, breaking the silence.

“You and Pink both call the same woman Mom. Are you siblings?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes still fixed on me.

I was surprised he’d picked up on that detail and even more surprised he cared. Did it really matter?

“No,” I replied, running a hand through my hair as I thought of the best way to explain. It wasn’t a secret, and most of our friends knew the story, but it wasn’t something I talked about often.

“When Pink and I were in middle school, we were in the same class and became close friends. One day, she told me she was gay. Her parents are extremely religious, and she knew the risk of coming out to them. I advised against it, but she said she couldn’t live a lie. So, she told them.”

I sighed at the memory, vivid and painful even now. “The fight was terrible. Her dad was furious and would have hit her if I hadn’t stepped in. They threw her out that same night, calling her disgusting and saying she wasn’t their daughter anymore. My parents took her in. We had an empty room since my older sister had already moved out for university, and from that day on, she was family. My parents supported her unconditionally, no matter who she loved.”

I smiled softly as I finished the story, meeting Idol’s thoughtful gaze. “That’s why she’s so direct about who she is. She doesn’t want to waste time on anyone who can’t accept her as she is.”

Idol nodded, his expression serious. The waiter arrived with our food, breaking the moment.

As Idol focused on his meal, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you have so much free time? I thought artists at the company had packed schedules.”

“We’re in what we call the inbetween,” he said, covering his mouth as he yawned. “We’re prepping for concerts and the new album, plus a few commercials. After this month, we’ll be gone for a while on tour, so everything has to be finished before then.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” I mumbled between bites, suppressing a moan as the taste of the food hit my lips and filled my stomach. The food was amazing.

“It is,” he admitted, shrugging. “But it’s my dream. As long as I get to sing and dance, I don’t mind.”

I paused, watching him. His passion was clear, and it resonated with me. I felt the same about my work—it never felt like too much because I loved it.

“I just want to perform,” he continued, catching my gaze. “As long as I can do that, I’ll be happy.”

The words made something stir in me. I wanted to say, Then let me make the music for you to sing and dance to. But before I could, someone interrupted.

A woman’s long, manicured fingers touched Idol’s shoulder, trailing to the back of his neck. It was an extremely intimate touch, one that didn’t faze Idol at all, it seemed.

“Idol,” she said in a sweet, saccharine tone.

He looked up, unfazed. “Coco. What are you doing here?” His tone was polite but lacked enthusiasm. He didn’t shrug off her hand, though.

She smiled, but her gaze flicked to me, assessing. “I’m having dinner with Cherry. Who are you with?”

“This is Song,” Idol said, gesturing to me. “He’s helping produce a track for our new album. You should get to know the producers—you work with them too, after all.”

Her smile relaxed, clearly reassured by the explanation, but she ignored his suggestion about the producers. “I’ll leave you alone,” she said, leaning down to whisper to him. “Don’t forget about our photoshoot.” Her hand trailed along his jaw before she straightened and walked back to her table, where another woman was watching us.

“Photoshoot?” I asked once she was gone.

“Couple-themed campaign for a clothing brand,” he said, pulling a face. “I’m not a fan of brand deals, but I’ll do what I have to if it means staying in LuminX.”

I nodded, my appetite fading as I imagined what the shoot might entail.

A yawn crept up, and I covered my mouth. It had been a long day. Idol noticed.

“I’ll take you home. Pink would kill me if I didn’t,” he said with a chuckle, grabbing my bag and jacket before we left the restaurant.

Back at my apartment, I stopped Idol at the door. "I’m exhausted. You’re not coming in," I told him firmly.

He put on an exaggerated pout, clearly not taking me seriously. "I won’t do anything, I promise. Just a sleepover," he said with a playful wink.

I scoffed and shook my head. "With your level of self-control? You’d end up attacking me in your sleep. Go home, Idol."

He sighed dramatically. "Fine," he relented, then puffed out his cheek and pointed to it. "If you give me a kiss."

"Stop teasing and just leave," I said, rolling my eyes and pushing at him lightly.

"Just one," he insisted, that infuriating grin still on his face.

I hesitated, realizing he probably wouldn’t leave unless I played along. With a resigned sigh, I leaned up on my toes to quickly kiss his cheek. At the last second, he turned his head, and our lips met instead.

Before I could react, he took the opportunity to press me against the doorframe, deepening the kiss. My hands flew to his chest, and I pushed him away with all the force I could muster, trying to ignore the thrill that lingered in the back of my mind. My body was already vibrating from his touch.

I wiped my mouth more out of principle than actual need, glaring at him. "You’re such an asshole!" I growled.

He only laughed, completely unfazed. "Good night, Song!" he said with a wink before turning and heading down the hall.

As I stood in the doorway, watching him disappear, the shock began to fade. Despite myself, I felt a smile tug at my lips, my body still tingling faintly from the kiss.

"Good night, Idol," I whispered softly before heading inside. Finally, I could collapse into bed, hoping to sleep off the remnants of my hangover—and the unexpected whirlwind of emotions Idol had stirred up.