Though our newfound friendship started on shaky ground, it slowly became one of my favorite parts of the day. As we grew accustomed to each other's presence without the intimacy we once shared, I began to look forward to spending time with him. Working at the same company made it easy to find him in his studio whenever I wanted. There was something calming about watching him work—his focus, the way his hands moved, the quiet hum of creativity. Sometimes, I’d bring my own work along, and we’d sit together in companionable silence, each immersed in our tasks.

Once our comeback preparations ramped up, though, our schedules grew too packed for those peaceful moments. Between music shows, interviews, photoshoots, and relentless practice sessions, time became a luxury. On one particularly exhausting night after a full day of interviews, I headed to his studio with food in hand, knowing he’d mentioned he’d be working late.

When I arrived, I found him slumped over his workbench, fast asleep. His head rested on his arms, and his soft, steady breathing filled the quiet space. I approached silently, my heart catching at the sight. It had been so long since I’d seen him so at peace. On instinct, I brushed a few stray strands of hair from his face. The simple touch sent an unexpected flutter through my chest, and an intense longing stirred within me. The desire to kiss him crashed over me like a wave.

But I had made a promise—to him and to myself. So, with every ounce of willpower, I stepped back. I set the food down on his desk and left a note for him to find when he woke. Before leaving, I draped my jacket over his sleeping form and quietly slipped away.

When I got home, my phone buzzed with a message from Song, thanking me for the food. Emboldened by his response, I seized the opportunity to invite him out that weekend—just the two of us.

The weekend came, and Song stood beside me on the street, looking at me with suspicion. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. He was dressed casually, in jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Meanwhile, I had gone incognito: a plain black t-shirt, jeans, a baseball cap pulled low over my blonde hair, and sunglasses to avoid attention during our comeback.

“We’re here!” I announced, gesturing at the building ahead.

“An arcade?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he read the sign. “Seriously?”

“What’s wrong with an arcade?” I grinned. “It’s been ages since I’ve been to one. Come on!” Before he could argue, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside.

At first, Song seemed hesitant, but with a little coaxing, he warmed up. Soon, we were laughing and competing across a variety of games, from retro classics to cutting-edge VR. It felt like we were rediscovering a part of ourselves that had been buried beneath years of relentless schedules and expectations. For the first time in a while, we let loose, just two friends having fun.

As we wandered deeper into the arcade, I spotted an old Dance Dance Revolution machine tucked into a corner. My eyes lit up. “No way! I used to play this all the time!” I exclaimed.

Song frowned, looking skeptical. “A dance game? Really?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” I teased, dragging him to the machine. “Come on, I’ll pick an easy level. It’s more about timing than actual dancing.”

Reluctantly, he joined me. As the music started, I fell into the rhythm of the game, muscle memory kicking in. Song managed surprisingly well for a first-timer, but by the end of the song, I had nearly aced the level, barely breaking a sweat.

“How are you not even tired?” Song muttered, eyeing me with disbelief.

“It’s all about practice,” I said, grinning. Seeing his amused expression, I decided to show off a little. Selecting a song I knew by heart, I cranked the difficulty to the highest setting.

“What are you doing?” Song asked, confused.

“Just watch,” I replied with a wink.

As the arrows flooded the screen, I threw myself into the routine, letting muscle memory and instinct guide me. Somewhere along the way, my baseball cap fell off, but I was too focused to care. By the time the song ended, a small crowd had gathered, clapping and cheering. I turned to Song, triumphant, only to see his jaw hanging open in shock.

“Hey... isn’t that...?” A voice from the crowd made my stomach drop. Whispers began to ripple through the onlookers.

Panicked, I grabbed my cap, seized Song’s hand, and bolted. We didn’t stop running until we were a safe distance away, far from prying eyes. As I finally caught my breath, laughter bubbled out of me, adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

“Idol...” Song said softly.

I turned to find him staring at our joined hands. I realized I was still holding on and hesitated before letting go. “Sorry,” I muttered, though part of me didn’t want to.

His phone rang, breaking the moment. “Pink,” he said as he answered. I watched as he nodded along to whatever she was saying.

“Sure, meet you there. I’ll bring Idol with me and call Gift,” he told her before hanging up.

He glanced at me. “Pink invited us to dinner. She’s calling the others, too.”

I nodded, but a flicker of annoyance crept in as he pulled out his phone to call his girlfriend. I shook it off. This was enough—for now.

We met Pink and Milk at the restaurant, and soon everyone had gathered. Benz, to everyone’s surprise, had brought King along. He didn’t offer an explanation, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Day had tagged along with Milk, having heard that Benz and Big would be there. The two had been sparring in Aurelia’s workout room earlier. Everyone was present except God, who declined the invite, saying he was busy working.

Somehow, I ended up seated at the far end of the table next to Gift. Song sat between Benz and Gift, engrossed in conversation with Benz, trying to catch up after not seeing much of him lately. The atmosphere at my end of the table felt tense. My gaze kept drifting toward Gift, wondering how she could remain so indifferent to my friendship with Song.

“You can just ask me what’s on your mind,” Gift said suddenly, turning toward me with a small smile. Her head rested lazily on her hand. “You look like you’re about to burst.”

Caught off guard, I adjusted my posture awkwardly. “I was just wondering,” I began, keeping my voice low, “how you’re okay with your boyfriend hanging out with his ex-lover.”

Her smile didn’t waver as she studied me. “It’s not that complicated,” she replied. “I don’t trust you, but I trust him. He’s been honest with me about everything, and I trust that he’ll continue to be. Why wouldn’t I?”

I scoffed quietly. “If you really loved him, you wouldn’t be so indifferent.”

“Not everyone equates love with jealousy, Idol,” she said coolly. “Trust doesn’t mean being possessive. You should try trusting people for once. Even if you can’t trust me, at least respect Song’s choices.”

Her words irritated me, but I stayed quiet, crossing my arms in frustration. To me, jealousy wasn’t a lack of trust—it was proof of how much you cared. I couldn’t understand how she could remain so composed.

Meanwhile, Song was oblivious to our exchange, still engrossed in conversation with Benz. I couldn’t help but wonder why he chose someone like her. Their relationship seemed so passionless.

Desperate for distraction, I turned my attention to King. His arrival with Benz had been suspicious from the start. Recently, I’d noticed bruises on him, though I hadn’t thought much of it. In our line of work, bruises were common. But combined with his frequent disappearances, something wasn’t adding up. What better way to distract myself than to press for answers?

“So,” I began, directing my question at King but watching Benz’s reaction closely, “what’s going on with you two? You showed up together...”

King smiled calmly mid-bite, while Benz froze, his fork hovering awkwardly over his plate.

“Are you two hooking up?” I asked bluntly.

King smirked. “None of your business.”

Bastard. He didn’t seem fazed, almost amused. But Benz? He looked like he wanted to crawl under the table.

“Benz?” Song interjected gently, his tone laced with confusion.

Benz kept his head down, struggling to respond.

“Leave him alone,” King snapped, his sharp tone cutting through the table chatter. “Yes, we’re dating. But it’s none of your business what we do. He’ll talk about it when he’s ready.”

His glare was enough to silence me momentarily.

“You’re awfully defensive,” I muttered.

King didn’t miss a beat. “And you’re awfully nosy.”

Song’s face flushed with embarrassment as if he regretted even being part of the conversation.

“Fine,” I said, shrugging as I looked away. But as King leaned back in his seat, looking smug, I couldn’t resist adding, “Your boy toy’s got you on a short leash, huh?”

King’s reaction was immediate—he shot to his feet, his body tense with anger. Benz quickly placed a calming hand on his wrist, grounding him before he could escalate.

“Yes, Idol,” Benz said firmly, his voice measured. “We’re dating. Happy now?”

His gaze didn’t falter until I shrugged nonchalantly. King settled back into his seat, and a brief silence hung over the table.

Just as I thought I’d caught a break, God arrived. He had declined the invitation earlier, citing work, but here he was, evidently unable to resist the call of food after finishing his writing.

After the meal, I excused myself to the restroom. On my way out, I overheard voices near the corner—Song and God.

Something about Song’s tone made me pause. I stayed hidden, listening.

“...I don’t know what to do anymore,” Song confessed, his voice heavy with emotion. “I love Gift, but it’s not the same. Lately, I’ve felt so comfortable around him, like we’re together again. Then Gift calls, and I’m reminded of reality. She doesn’t deserve to be cast aside either.”

My chest tightened at his words.

“You could always tell him,” God suggested softly. “It’s better than living with ‘what ifs.’”

“I don’t think he’d take me seriously,” Song replied bitterly. “He’d probably think I’m just a backup plan. And once Gift is out of the picture, he’d grow bored of me.”

God’s response was measured. “If you don’t say anything, you’ll never know. But it’s not fair to Gift if your heart isn’t in it.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Song murmured. “I just... I don’t want to make the wrong decision. It’s overwhelming—everything is.”

“Take your time, but don’t ignore what you want,” God said gently. “I’m here if you need to talk.”

Their footsteps faded, leaving me rooted in place, my thoughts racing.

He loved me.

Yet he doubted me.

And I wasn’t sure if I was ready to risk everything for him.