Walking into ONYX Entertainment is like stepping into another world. The walls are glass, the floors pristine, and the air carries the faint scent of power. It’s too polished, too calculated. A perfectly curated empire designed to own the people inside it. Not at all what I expected from the company managing the country’s most untouchable idols. It’s sterile. Cold. A fucking trap.

My sneakers squeak against the marble floor, obnoxiously loud in the otherwise silent corridor. I don’t adjust my stride.

Hee-Ra glances back at me, barely suppressing a smile. “Try not to piss off the CEO, okay?”

I don’t respond.

Because, really, what’s the worst that can happen?

We step into the office, and oh, I get it now.

The man behind the desk looks like he eats souls for breakfast.

Sharp eyes. Sharper suit. Sharper everything. He’s power wrapped in expensive tailoring, completely unreadable, except for the mild impatience flickering across his face. The boys are already here, seated on two leather couches like royalty, watching me like I’m an anomaly they can’t quite place.

As we enter, the CEO rises to his feet, scanning me with the same cool assessment. “Naomi Seo.”

I meet his gaze, unimpressed. “That’s me.”

A pause. A deliberate study.

I can feel him peeling me apart, assessing, calculating, looking for cracks.

He gestures toward the empty spot on the couch next to Min. “Sit.”

I glance at Hee-Ra, who has already made herself comfortable between Seon and Jisoo. Fantastic. I sigh, moving toward the only available seat—right next to Min, who doesn’t even spare me a glance.

A contract—thick enough to kill a man—lands on the coffee table between us with a satisfying thud.

The CEO takes his seat at the head of the U-shaped seating arrangement, steepling his fingers. “You will be given clear instructions. You will follow them.”

I arch a brow, fingers drumming against the armrest. “Or?”

The man barely reacts. Steel. “This is a controlled narrative. We dictate the terms, and you play the role assigned to you. If you cannot comply, we will find someone who can.”

The room is silent.

I exhale, flipping open the contract. “When you say controlled narrative, how controlled are we talking?”

He leans forward slightly. "You will be expected to participate in couple activities. Appear affectionate in public. Share social media moments. Make the romance believable."

A burning gaze locks onto my profile. Min.

I don’t look at him. I keep my expression bored, but my spine tingles. I sip my water just to be petty.

“Fine,” I mutter, flipping another page.

"There will also be scripted moments,” the CEO continues. “Surprise dates. Gifts. Carefully placed media leaks to enhance believability.”

I scoff. “So you’re asking me to be a glorified K-drama actress?”

He nods, completely unaffected. “Think of it as a live performance with high stakes.”

“High stakes?” I lean back. “What, will I get assassinated if I break character?”

Jae grins. “Depends on who you ask.”

Min exhales sharply. “Ignore him.”

I hum, turning another page. “What’s the penalty if I breach contract?”

The CEO's expression darkens. “A lawsuit. A considerable one.”

I whistle low. “You guys are thorough.”

“This is our reputation on the line,” he says, tone clipped. “Not to mention the reputations of our artists. You will be compensated generously. But in return, we expect absolute professionalism.”

“Professionalism,” I echo, twirling my pen. “Right. And what about the fun stuff?”

A pause. “Clarify.”

I grin. “Sex. Is that covered under contract too?”

The silence in the room is delicious.

Min stiffens. Jae lets out an amused breath. Seon bites his lip like he’s trying not to laugh. Hee-Ra pinches the bridge of her nose.

The CEO doesn’t flinch. “That will not be necessary for authenticity.”

I pout. “Damn. There goes my hope for an idol-exclusive bonus clause.”

Jae outright cackles. Even Seon grins, shaking his head. Min just sighs like he regrets his entire career.

The CEO clears his throat, clearly uninterested in my nonsense. “One more thing.”

I tilt my head. “There’s always one more thing.”

“No real relationships while this contract is active.”

I hum. “So, I pretend to date your golden boy for a year, keep my mouth shut, play nice, and in return, I get paid. No real romance? Just strategic hand-holding and staged kisses?”

“Correct.”

I lean back, expression unchanged. “And if he falls in love with me?”

A sharp exhale. “That will not happen.”

I smile. Oh, he sounds so sure.

The CEO leans forward, voice clipped. “You’re not special, Miss Seo.”

Oh, he’s good. Trying to knock me down. Put me in my place. I wonder if this tactic works on everyone else. Too bad I don’t give a fuck. I lean forward, matching his energy. “Neither are they.”

A beat. A single eyebrow twitch. Gotcha. Min shifts slightly beside me, unreadable. Seon coughs to cover a laugh. Jae openly grins.

The CEO exhales sharply, regaining control. "There are… other expectations."

I flip another page. "Such as?"

A new voice. Low. Dangerous. Min. "Such as moving in."

I freeze. What.

My head snaps up. I level Min with a flat look. “Excuse me?”

The CEO cuts in smoothly. “It’s standard procedure for relationship authenticity. The public is meticulous. If you live separately, they’ll notice, and the chemistry won’t sell.”

My eyes narrow. “I don’t remember that in the contract.”

"It’s in the addendum." The CEO taps the contract. "Page fifty-seven."

I gape. "Fifty-seven? Who the hell reads past twenty?"

Jae snorts.

The CEO leans back. "Is that a problem, Miss Seo?"

I clench my jaw.

Seon grins. "You scared to live with us, Noona?"

I cut him a look. “I’m scared you’ll shed hair on my manga collection.”

Jisoo and Jae both laugh out loud.

The CEO finally clasps his hands together. “Miss Seo, you understand the contract fully now?”

I hum, flipping lazily through the pages. Then, I reach into my bag and pull out my manga pen. The pen. The shiny, ridiculous, decorated-with-a-shirtless-anime-character manga pen. Brooding stare. Flexed abs. Pure fucking 2D perfection. I twirl it between my fingers, completely unbothered. “Just so we’re clear, CEO-nim.” I hold it up for all to see, smirking. “I have a very specific type.”

A beat of silence. The CEO stares at the pen. Then back at me. Then back at the pen. And for the first time, the man actually looks genuinely thrown.

I twirl the pen lazily. “So unless my 2D husband gets jealous, we’re good.”

The CEO pinches the bridge of his nose. “Good God. You’re going to be a nightmare.”

Hee-Ra bursts into laughter. “That’s why she’s perfect.”

I grin, unrepentant. "I get that a lot."

The CEO exhales through his nose, clearly debating if all of this is worth the headache. He leans back in his chair, expression once again unreadable. “You have twenty-four hours to decide, Miss Seo.”

I drum my fingers against the armrest. “And if I say no?”

“Then you walk away.” His tone is cool, dismissive. “And we find someone else.”

There it is. The reminder that I’m replaceable. That this isn’t some grand, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Just a business deal. A temporary arrangement.

I flip the contract shut with a soft thud. “And what about my actual job?”

He barely blinks. “You will be compensated more than enough to step away from it during the duration of this contract.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re telling me to quit?”

“We’re telling you that your full attention is expected,” he corrects smoothly. “Your schedule will be dictated by ONYX Entertainment. You will accompany Min to events, travel when necessary, and be available for public appearances.”

I tap my fingers against the table, biting back a sigh. “So I get a scripted boyfriend and lose my job.”

“A temporary inconvenience,” he counters.

A temporary inconvenience, my ass. This wasn’t just about the money. My time was sacred. My schedule? Even more so. I had routines. Priorities. A very important, very extensive backlog of anime waiting for me every night.

I glance at Hee-Ra, whose expression is unreadable, but I know her well enough to recognize the warning in her eyes. This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal.

The boys rise, stretching lazily, and I realize this meeting is over. Just like that.

Seon claps his hands together, all easygoing charm. “See you soon, Noona.”

I scoff. “You sound awfully sure about that.”

His grin widens. “Because you’d be an idiot to say no.”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t argue. Because he’s right. And that’s the most annoying part of all.

Min doesn’t say a word as we walk out. Neither does Jisoo. But as I step into the hallway, I swear I can still feel their eyes on my back.

Like they already know.

Like they’ve already decided.

And worse?

Like maybe, just maybe… so have I.