Chapter 8:
Averts 

For three months, V and Lena’s names became almost inseparable in the press. The photos from their dinner together had ignited a wildfire of rumors, and the two of them didn’t exactly extinguish it. They were spotted at screenings, charity galas, and late-night dinners.

And yet, behind the headlines, their closeness settled into something quieter, almost domestic. Lena would text him links to obscure films at midnight, and he’d reply instantly, teasing her about her “pretentious taste.” She dragged him into an art exhibit that was more empty white space than paintings, and he countered by taking her to a noisy street market where he insisted on picking food from random stalls until she was laughing with sauce smeared on her lips.

There were late photoshoot of the same luxury brand. Between takes, Lena lounged barefoot on the studio floor, venting about the constant comparisons to her famous mother, while V sat cross-legged beside her, tossing a stress ball back and forth. She admitted, in a low voice, how exhausting it was to prove she wasn’t just her mother’s daughter.

“You’re doing better than proving it,” V had told her lightly, tossing the ball so she nearly missed it. “You’re terrifying the rest of us into working harder.”

Lena laughed, but her gaze lingered on him longer than the joke deserved.

Everyone around them assumed inevitability that another celebrity couple forming before their eyes. V could feel it too, the weight of expectations pressing down like stage lights. And Lena wasn’t shy about her affection.

But V… V could only meet her halfway.

He liked her—more than liked her, even. She was beautiful, witty, earnest in a way that reminded him of his eagerness before. Around her, it was almost natural to be playful and bright. It was easy. Too easy.

And yet, when he lay in bed afterward, staring at the ceiling of his apartment, the emptiness pressed in. Lena’s laughter echoed faintly in memory, but it didn’t touch the hollow at his center. He found himself comparing her warmth, her gestures, to Kaimin’s silence. To Kaimin’s hands that had mapped him like a secret. To Kaimin’s words that had shaken him to his core.

He hated himself for it. Lena deserved better than being weighed against a ghost of something he himself had ruined.

So he told himself he was grateful for her friendship. He played the part of confidant, co-star, charming companion, and she seemed content to let it be, even if her eyes sometimes betrayed more.

Three months passed in a blur of schedules, projects, and appearances. To the world, they were a couple. To Lena, they were something not-yet-defined, maybe waiting.

And to V, they were safe.

The bar glowed with its usual low amber light, polished brass catching the glimmer from the rows of bottles behind the counter. V had always thought there was a deliberate elegance to the place. Everything's precise. It was unmistakably Kaimin.

Lena leaned into the leather booth, a glass of wine in hand, her cheeks flushed in the warm lighting. “You really brought me somewhere special tonight, V. I thought you were more of a rooftop cocktails type, but this—” She gestured around, her bracelets clinking. “This has… weight. Classy without trying too hard.”

V smiled, stirring the lime in his mocktail. “That’s the point. The owner hates anything showy.”

Her brows rose. “I heard rumors. This is that bar, isn’t it? Owned by Kaimin Shin?”

V gave a small shrug, casual on the surface. “Yeah.”

Lena let out a soft laugh. “Figures. I’ve never met him, but tabloids make him out to be… what’s the word… a little icy. Maybe rude.” She smirked, swirling her glass. “Doesn’t sound like your type of crowd.”

V tilted his head, feigning a grin. “Don’t believe everything you read. He just doesn’t waste words. That’s all.”

“So you do know him,” Lena teased, leaning in slightly. “I mean, you’re part of the LMC, right? Everyone in the industry whispers about it. You never talk about it, though.”

“That’s because it’s boring,” V said smoothly. “A group of friends, sometimes we work, sometimes we argue, sometimes we drink. That’s all.”

“But it's noble cause, isn't it?” Lena studied him, eyes narrowing playfully. “Mm. And you’re too careful when you say that. Makes me think there’s more than just drinks and arguments.”

V chuckled, lifting his glass. “You give me too much credit. If you want in on the mystery, maybe I’ll bring you to one of our parties someday. You’d fit in just fine.”

Her face lit up at that, pleased. She glanced around again, letting her gaze sweep over the sharp suits, the sleek surfaces. “It really is beautiful here. Feels like a place where secrets live.”

“Maybe,” V allowed, taking a sip of his mocktail. “Or maybe it’s just a bar.”

Lena’s laugh was softer this time, tinted by the wine. She looked at him, gaze lingering. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make everything sound lighter than it is. Like you’re letting people close but only halfway.” She hesitated, fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “It’s not a criticism. Just… an observation.”

V met her eyes. “That’s my job, isn’t it? Keep things easy.”

“Maybe.” She sighed, gaze slipping to her drink. “But sometimes it makes me wish you’d let someone in all the way. Let me in.”

Her voice was softer now, the words slipping free without the restraint she usually held. “I like you, V. More than I probably should.”

The air in the booth seemed to thicken. V’s smile didn’t falter, but inside, something tightened. He set his glass down carefully.

“Lena…” His voice was gentle and steady. “You’ve had a little too much. Let me get you some water before you regret this tomorrow.”

Her laugh was nervous, embarrassed, though she didn’t take back the words. “You’re...,” she paused. Didn't quite know how to proceed. She sighed.

V signaled at the server. “Don’t worry. I’ll drive you home.”

As she leaned back against the booth, eyes half-lidded, V’s thoughts spiraled. Lena’s openness—it should have been enough. It would have been enough for anyone else.

By the time V eased the car to a stop in front of Lena’s building, she stirred awake. She rubbed her temples lightly, blinking the drowsiness away.

“…Sorry,” she murmured, her voice husky from sleep. “Guess I had more than I thought.”

V smiled faintly. “It’s fine. You needed the rest.”

She looked at him, eyes clearer now, sobriety cutting through. For a moment, she just studied him, as though trying to memorize something. Then, softly, she said, “Do you want to come up?”

V’s fingers flexed around the wheel. The easy answer would’ve been yes. But he shook his head with a firm smile. “Not a good idea. Too many lenses out there waiting for something to spin.”

Lena’s lips curved, not in disappointment but in understanding. “Always careful. I like that about you.” She paused, then exhaled slowly. “V… I need to say something while I still have the courage.”

He glanced at her, heart bracing.

“I like you.” The words were deliberate now, no alcohol blurring the edges. “Not just as the charming actor everyone adores. You make things feel light. Easy. And that’s rare.”

Silence stretched. V’s throat tightened. He wanted to answer quickly, to smooth it over, but Lena’s gaze held him steady.

“I know you don’t feel the same way,” she added, almost wry. “You don’t have to say it. I can see it.”

He drew a breath, choosing his words carefully. “…Lena, you’re… you’re important to me. I don’t take you lightly.”

Her eyes softened at that, though she pressed. “Then let me try. Just… let me try to pursue you. If it doesn’t work, we stay friends. I promise. I won’t make it messy.”

V studied her, the determination in her posture, the warmth in her eyes. Part of him wanted to refuse, to save her the inevitability of his hollow heart. But another part, the tired, jagged part, wondered if maybe letting someone so steady and closer could quiet the storm inside him.

“…I can’t promise anything,” he said finally.

“I’m not asking for promises.” She smiled then, soft and bright, the kind that didn’t demand but offered. “Just… a chance.”

The weight in his chest shifted, not lighter but gentler somehow.

V managed a small smile back. Genuine, this time. “Alright.”

Lena’s expression lit. She touched his arm lightly, lingering just long enough to send warmth up his skin, then pulled back.

“Good night, V.” She stepped out of the car with the grace of someone used to red carpets, but before closing the door, she leaned down, her eyes catching his in the dim light. “Thank you. For not running away.”

And then she was gone, the lobby doors closing behind her.

V sat there for a moment longer, staring at the empty seat beside him. His smile faded, leaving only the quiet ache in its place.