Later that evening, I sprawled across the couch in Song’s studio, scrolling through photos on my phone. Coco had just sent them over, shots from our recent couple-themed photo shoot.

“Is that from the shoot with Coco?” Song asked, leaning over my shoulder to get a better look.

I grunted in affirmation. The photos were good—Coco had leaned hard into the fan service, and as usual, I’d played along. The illusion of our relationship was convenient, a smokescreen that kept the media off my back.

“Does Coco know you’re faking it?” Song asked, frowning slightly.

I tilted my head back to catch his expression and couldn’t resist teasing. “Worried?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, swatting me lightly on the head.

I laughed, thoroughly amused. He was too cute when he got flustered.

“You should go home and sleep,” Song said, turning his back to me. “You’ve got the album photoshoot for LuminX tomorrow, right?”

I pushed myself off the couch and strolled over to him, draping my chin on his shoulder. “We could go home and not sleep,” I suggested with a grin.

Song turned to face me, his expression flat. “Is sex all you ever think about?”

“No,” I pouted dramatically. “But it’s your fault I’m like this. You should take responsibility.”

Song burst out laughing, his annoyance melting away.

“Did you finish your solo project?” I asked, changing the subject out of curiosity, but I was also trying to get the conversation over to focus on Song instead. 

His body tensed, and his smile faded. “No,” he said shortly, his tone leaving little room for discussion.

I waited, giving him space, and eventually, he relented. “I don’t know how to fix it,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve put it on hold indefinitely.”

I was about to respond when my phone buzzed. Coco’s name lit up the screen.

“Idol! Did you get the photos?” her voice bubbled through the receiver.

“Yeah, Coco, I saw them,” I said, settling back onto the couch.

“They’re amazing, right? Oh, and they called today—they want us to attend their launch as a pair. I’ll send Milk the details, and we can get ready together that day!”

I groaned. “Do we have to go together? It’s my last day before the tour…”

I glanced at Song, who had stiffened. His face was blank, unusually so. Usually, he wore his emotions plainly, but now I couldn’t read him at all. I tilted my head, silently asking what was wrong. 

Without a word, Song walked over and knelt in front of me. My eyes widened in shock as he unbuttoned my pants and pushed them down.

“Idol, are you okay?” Coco’s concerned voice crackled through the phone. “You sound... off.”

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice shaky as I fought to maintain composure. “It’s nothing.”

Coco started another ramble, but I cut her off quickly. “We’ll talk about the launch later. I have to go.” I hung up, tossing the phone aside as my hand tangled in Song’s hair.

A gasp escaped me, a rush of pleasure clouding my thoughts. But when it was over, Song stood abruptly, his face still unreadable.

“What was that?” I asked, breathless and confused. The look on his face; vacant. I’d seen him angry plenty of times, and anything from horny to happy, but this was a look I’d never seen. 

“Just having fun, right?” he said, his voice cold, almost robotic.

The grin slipped from my face. “What do you mean?”

Song didn’t answer. “I’m leaving,” he said flatly. Before I could gather my thoughts, he was out the door, leaving me alone and stunned.

______________

“Why do you keep staring at your phone?” God asked, sliding into the seat next to me.

We were on set for the album shoot, a grueling all-day affair that might stretch well into the night. My phone was open to my chat with Song, the screen taunting me with a row of unanswered messages. He’d read them—that much I could see—but hadn’t replied. Song wasn’t the type to ghost me, and I kept telling myself he was just busy. But it didn’t sit right.

“It’s nothing,” I said, slipping my phone into my pocket and trying to sound casual.

God raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Where’s Milk?” I asked quickly, steering the conversation away from myself.

“She ran some errands,” God said with a knowing smile. “Not much for her to do while we’re shooting. My guess? She’s probably with Pink. Who’d have thought that tiny, loud girl could turn our Milk into a complete softie?”

I chuckled lightly. “She is something else.”

But even the mention of Pink circled my thoughts back to Song. Maybe Pink knew something. Or Milk could ask her for me.

“Stop overthinking,” God said, interrupting my train of thought with a firm pat on my back. “Let’s focus on knocking this shoot out. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can get ready for the tour.”

He was right. I nodded and left my phone behind, walking with him back to the set. Concerts were the highlight of everything we did, and for now, that had to be enough to pull my focus.