The morning air felt sharper than usual as I stepped out of the cab, my nerves twisting in my stomach. Today’s visit to Park Hana wasn’t just a routine check-in. 

Hana greeted me in her office with her usual calm professionalism, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes when she noticed my tense expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said, gesturing for me to sit.

I exhaled slowly. “Hana-nim… I need to tell you something serious. About Yujun.”

Her brow furrowed, and she leaned forward. “Go on.”

I recounted everything—the bathroom at the after party, Chihwei, Yujun’s reaction, and how he had defended him verbally. I told her about the manipulation, the grooming, and the twisted sense of loyalty Chihwei had forced onto Yujun. I tried to remain factual, but the knot of guilt, frustration, and fear was impossible to hide.

Hana listened quietly, her expression tightening when I described the abuse and the way Yujun rationalized it. When I finished, the pause between us stretched, and I started to worry I hadn’t said enough.

“This is… serious,” she said finally, her tone measured but firm. “You were right to come to me. Yujun’s in danger, and so is everyone else who could get caught up in Chihwei’s influence. But you can’t handle this alone.”

I nodded, relief washing over me briefly. “I know, but… what do we do?”

Hana leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. “We need a plan. And it starts with the truth.”

I frowned. “The truth?”

“Yes,” she said. “You’ve been working undercover for Apex Weekly. You know what SDR has been doing—the human trafficking, the drug distribution, the exploitation. But your members don’t know. And right now, they need to know everything if we’re going to protect Yujun and anyone else at risk.”

I swallowed hard. The thought of exposing myself, of revealing my secret to the people I cared about most, made my chest tighten.

“They need to understand the stakes,” Hana continued. “You coming clean isn’t just about trust—it’s about survival. If they understand the truth, they can act safely. And if they’re fully informed, they can help you dismantle SDR from the inside. That’s the only way to protect Yujun, themselves, and everyone vulnerable at that company.”

I nodded slowly, my mind racing. “But… what if they don’t believe me? What if they feel betrayed?”

Hana’s gaze was unwavering. “They’ll be shocked. Probably angry, confused. But they trust you. You’ve already shown your loyalty in countless ways. Right now, they need clarity and direction. You give them that, and they’ll follow.”

I swallowed, the weight of it pressing down. “And… what happens if we succeed?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Hana’s lips curved faintly. “If you succeed, I have connections at Yellow Entertainment. I can help ensure V1NE—and every member of your group—has a safe future. They deserve it, after everything. But first, you need to take the first step: tell your members the truth.”

It hit me like a punch in the chest. This wasn’t my decision alone. Hana had just given me the directive I hadn’t wanted to admit I needed: come clean, fully and immediately.

“So… you want me to tell them everything,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “About Apex Weekly, about SDR, about what they’ve been hiding, and my role in all of this?”

“Yes,” Hana said firmly. “It won’t be easy, and it won’t be comfortable. But it’s the only way to protect Yujun and everyone else. You have to trust that they’ll do the right thing. And you’ll need them to help dismantle the system from within. Step one: honesty. Step two: coordinated action. Step three: protection for the vulnerable.”

I exhaled slowly, trying to let it sink in. The plan was enormous, terrifying—but for the first time, I felt like we might have a chance.

“Tomorrow,” I whispered, almost to myself, “I’ll tell them everything. And we’ll figure out the next steps… together.”

Hana placed a hand gently on mine, her eyes softening. “Good. Remember, Minjae—you’re not alone in this. You have allies. You have people you trust. And you have your team. Be honest with them. That’s how you protect them. I initially didn't want to reveal your identity to anyone related to SDR. But the fact that your immediate surroundings are in danger, too... It's not something we can take lightly. My decision might be rash but we've expected all sorts of outcomes with my team and we had this idea lingering for a while, incase something goes wrong. And one of your members being in such situation... That's one of the worst case scenarios during the investigation.”

I left her office with a mixture of dread and resolve knotting in my stomach. The city outside seemed almost lighter somehow, the weight of secrecy shared at last with someone who understood its magnitude. Hana’s words echoed in my mind: honesty first. Protection next. And then, maybe, a chance to finally take down SDR from the inside.

Tomorrow, I would tell my members the truth. And nothing would ever be the same again.

The cab ride back to the dorm felt like it lasted a lifetime. My hands gripped the seat so tightly I could feel the skin blanch beneath my fingers. Hana’s words replayed in my mind over and over—honesty first. Protection next. Step one: come clean.

But… I couldn’t do it alone. The weight of it, the enormity of what I had to tell the group, pressed on my chest like a steel plate. How could I possibly explain SDR’s crimes? Human trafficking, drug distribution, manipulation… all while risking my members’ trust?

I glanced at the city lights passing by, blurred streaks of white and gold, and my thoughts drifted back to the conversation I’d had with Renji. I remembered his voice, calm but resolute, as he had said:"Be careful. Don’t carry it all on your own.”

The memory was a lifeline. My chest ached at the thought of it. I needed that now. I needed someone in my corner when I came clean tomorrow. And I knew… that someone had to be Renji.

By the time I reached the dorm, my stomach was in knots. Everyone else was occupied. I could feel my pulse hammering in my ears as I made my way up the stairs to our room.

Renji was already inside, sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up at me when I entered, a small, tentative smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Hey,” he said softly.

I swallowed hard, my voice catching before I managed to speak. “Renji… I need to tell you something. Something important.”

His brows knit slightly, curiosity and concern flashing in his eyes. “Okay… what is it?”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. How could I even begin to explain? But I knew I had to. I had to be honest, completely. “I… I’m working with Apex Weekly,” I said finally, the words tasting strange as they left my lips. “I’m… I’ve been undercover. I’ve been gathering information on SDR. On what they’ve been doing.”

His phone dropped to his lap, eyes widening. “What… what do you mean?” His voice was sharp now, edged with disbelief. “Minjae… you’re joking, right?”

I shook my head, stepping closer. “No. I’m not joking. SDR… they’ve been involved in human trafficking. Kids who want to debut, who dream of becoming idols… they exploit them. And other criminal activities—drugs, money laundering, connections with the Mafia. I’ve been trying to gather evidence from the inside.”

Renji leaned back slightly, his hands gripping the edge of his bed. His breath came in shallow bursts, his mind clearly racing. “All this… you’ve been doing this alone?”

“I wasn’t completely alone,” I admitted, my voice trembling. Apex Weekly had been providing support. But… I can’t tell the rest of the group yet. It’s too dangerous. I needed… I need someone I can trust first. You.”

Renji ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “You’ve been carrying this by yourself… with me completely in the dark.” His voice wavered, but there was no anger in it—just concern, worry, the faintest edge of hurt.

“I know,” I whispered. “And I’m sorry. But I can’t do this alone anymore. If I’m going to tell the group, if I’m going to protect Yujun and everyone else… I need your support. Will you… help me?”

Renji stared at me for a long moment, his chest rising and falling as he processed everything. Then slowly, deliberately, he nodded. “You’re insane. But… I’ve got your back. Whatever happens, Minjae. You’re not facing this alone.”

Relief crashed over me like a wave, and I felt the tension in my shoulders finally loosen. “Thank you,” I said, voice barely more than a whisper. “I… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Renji’s hand rested lightly on my shoulder, but the weight of his gaze felt heavier than anything else.

“I need to know… do you even want to be here as an idol? Or is this… just your job as an aspiring journalist?”

His words hit me like a punch. I swallowed hard, feeling the lump in my throat, the tightness in my chest.

“I… I don’t know anymore,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “When I first came back, yes… it was about Apex Weekly, about exposing SDR. But… somewhere along the way, I started… liking this life again. I started enjoying being part of this group. Being on stage, being with the members… I care about them, Renji. I care about all of them, and I never wanted to deceive anyone.”

Renji’s hand tightened slightly on my shoulder. “But the deception… it’s still there. Doesn’t it bother you?”

I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. “It does. It’s killing me. I’ve felt like a traitor for months. My guilt… it paralyzed me. I didn’t know how to even look at you guys, how to be with you, without feeling… worthless. But I can’t ignore what SDR’s done, Renji. All the kids… the people they hurt… I can’t just walk away. We can’t let them get away with it. We have to put our moral priorities in order, even if it hurts.”

His silence stretched between us, thick and almost suffocating. I let myself lean into him, the tremor in my hands betraying how raw I felt. “I… I just… I don’t know how to reconcile it all. I love this life, I love them… but I can’t ignore the wrongs either.” My voice broke, the tears spilling freely down my cheeks now.

Renji moved closer, his other hand brushing a wet strand of hair from my face. “You don’t have to carry it alone,” he said, voice low and steady. “Not anymore.”

I shook my head, choking on a sob.

“I’m… I’m scared, Renji. Scared that I’ll fail them. That I’ll fail him—Yujun. And… that I’ll lose you too, somehow.”

He cupped my face in his hands, leaning in closer. “Hey… look at me,” he said firmly. “You won’t lose me. Ever. You hear me? Ever.”

And then he pressed his lips to mine, softly at first, careful, like he was testing if I’d run. I froze, caught between shock and relief, my tears wet against his hands. But I didn’t pull away.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close as his tongue parted my lips gently, and I let myself crumble into him, letting the flood of emotion spill out. All the fear, all the guilt, all the exhaustion of carrying secrets alone—it felt like it was being absorbed by him, being held steady.

When we finally pulled back, our foreheads resting against each other, I could feel his breath, steady and warm, grounding me in a way I hadn’t felt in months.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered again. “Not now. Not ever.”

“We need a plan,” I said finally, breaking the meaningful silence. “If I come clean to the group without support further support… I don’t know how they’d react. Or if I could even handle it.”

Renji nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. His fingers lingered for a moment against my cheek, warm and grounding. “Then we start with Jiahao,” he said quietly. “He’s the leader. He’s responsible, level-headed, and the others trust him completely. If anyone can help carry this… it’s him.”

I swallowed hard, staring at my hands. “Right. Jiahao first. And… I guess we prepare them for what SDR has been doing. Apex Weekly can help us to report them to the police, once we have evidence. They have the power so our efforts won't be taken lightly.”

Renji leaned closer, brushing his lips lightly over my temple. I shivered slightly at the touch, feeling a mixture of comfort and guilt. "I got your back."

I nodded, biting my lip. “I… I know. It just… it’s a lot.”

“You’re doing the right thing,” he said, his hand moving to my arm, squeezing gently. “And I’m here. I’ll help you every step of the way.”

As we continued talking, Renji’s hands didn’t leave me. He caressed my arms, my shoulders, the small of my back. Occasionally, he pressed a light kiss to my forehead, whispering encouragement or small, quiet reassurances between thoughts. His touch was both grounding and dizzying, a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone.

“And if things get messy?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Renji shrugged slightly, though his hands remained on me. “Then we deal with it together. One step at a time. You don’t have to figure out everything tonight.”

We spent the next hour mapping out the conversation, talking through how we would come clean to Jiahao first, how to frame the SDR situation without overwhelming the others, and how to protect Yujun in the process. All the while, Renji’s presence was steady, reassuring, and dangerously close to making my heart skip more than once.

Finally, the conversation slowed, and we leaned back against the headboard, exhausted in body and mind. Renji pressed another soft kiss to my lips, murmuring, “Get some rest. You’ll need it for what’s coming.”

I closed my eyes, letting his hands linger against me as I tried to focus on sleep. But my mind refused to settle entirely. Thoughts of the plan wrestled with thoughts of him—the warmth of his hands, the softness of his lips, the way his presence both soothed and unnerved me.

I can’t think about this now, I told myself firmly. There’s too much going on. I can’t deal with my feelings toward Renji too. Not yet.

So I made a promise to myself: I’d come clean to Jiahao, then to the rest of the group. Only after that, when the weight of everything was at least somewhat lifted, would I allow myself to confront the emotions Renji stirred in me. Until then… I’d let it be. Let the affection, the touches, the kisses exist in the moment without labels. Let it be a lifeline, not a distraction.

I drifted into sleep with Renji still beside me, his hands warm against my skin, his presence a steady reminder that even in the chaos, I wasn’t alone. And for now, that had to be enough.