The worst part wasn't the panic. Not really.

It was the crushing weight of something that couldn't just be shared with anyone.

Not even Jiyoon could truly understand. She knew, yes, she was the only one who did. She was Minjun's closest and oldest friend but he had worked so hard to convince the world and himself that being an Omega didn't matter. Not to him, not anymore.

For years he had lived as though he had everything under control, like he had shoved that part of himself into a drawer and forgotten it ever existed..

Now? Someone had ripped that drawer wide open. And it wasn't even about him, technically. Not yet.

He stood frozen in the hallway, listening to the voices of his peers cutting through the air.

"Did you hear about Sangmin?"

"Yeah, turns out he was an Omega this whole time. Apperently even the professors didn't know."

"He was on suppressants, right?"

"Someone caught his scent last week. An Alpha in the econ department, just reported it."

"That's terrifying."

"Why hide it if you've got nothing to be ashamed of?"

His hands clenched into fists inside his sleeves. The administration had "handled" it quietly. Transferred Sangmin to remote classes, but the damage was already done. The whispers followed Sangmin like a second shadow. And for Minjun, the hallway suddenly felt too narrow and he could barley breathe.

He told himself he was different. He wasn't like Sangmin. He was careful, meticulous, even. Since he was sixteen, his life had been a series of rigid routines, blockers and double reminders. He had never missed a dose.

Until this week.

A strange, heavy haze had settled over his mind, blurring his focus and making the everything bleed in together. The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow: the bottle was still sitting on his bathroom sink, the seal untouched.

At first, he tried to convince himself that he would be fine. But as he quckiy managed to retreated into the sanctuary of the bathroom down the hall, his body began to betray him. It started in his legs, with a vague- a twitching restlessness that made it difficult for him to stand still. Then came a heavy, a sinking heat in his lower stomach. His mouth went dry and his skin slowly began to prickle, radiating off a feverish warmth that seemed to come from his very bones.

"No. No, no, no.", he whispered, splashing freezing water over his face. He gripped the edges of the white porcelain sink so hard that his arms shook.

'This isn't happening.'

He tried to deny it, but the truth was coiling beneath his skin, something terrifying breaking free after years of being buried alive. He was losing the battle against his own body.

As the first faint traces of his scent began to bloom in the small room, only one fear cycled through his mind: What if someone smells it? What if they know? And then the most dangerous thought of them all:

What if he finds a out?

The thought of his name a lone made it worse.

Because the first time in his life, Minjun couldn't even trust his own legs not to carry him straight to the one person he needed to avoid. He didn't want any one to see him like this. Especially him, not him, not like that.

That loss of control terrified him more than being merely discovered ever could.