The green room slowly emptied. One by one, the boys peeled off—still chuckling, still teasing, still riding the high of the show—but also sensing the shift in energy. They knew the moment was yours now.
Felix was the last to leave, ruffling Chan's hair before pulling you in for a hug. "You did good," he whispered. "Both of you."
Then the door clicked shut.
And finally... stillness. You and Chan sat on the couch, the low hum of ventilation overhead, the distant echo of crews packing up down the hall. Your legs were tucked beneath you. His arm was draped across the back of the couch, fingers gently tracing slow circles on your shoulder.
He exhaled slowly. "That was... insane."
You looked at him and smiled. "In the best way."
"I didn't think I'd survive seeing you out there," he admitted, voice low, almost like a confession. "You looked like a damn firestorm."
You tilted your head. "You didn't exactly play it cool either."
"I tried." He laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. "But then you smiled at me and my brain short-circuited."
You leaned into him, resting your cheek against his shoulder. "It's strange. For the first time... I don't feel like I'm hiding."
He kissed the top of your head. "That's how it's supposed to be."
The moment held. Quiet. Safe. Full. And then—his phone rang. You both tensed slightly. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen. His brows lifted. Then he sighed and answered. "Hello?"
You couldn't hear the other side, but Chan stood slowly, pacing a few steps away. His voice was calm—measured—but you could hear the shift in his tone.
"Yes... yes, I understand," he said. "No, it wasn't intentional. But no... it wasn't unplanned either."
Pause.
He looked over at you—soft, grounded—and continued, "We've been careful. But I won't call it a mistake. It's not a scandal. It's real. And if you check social media right now, you'll see what the crowd thinks."
Another pause. He listened, then nodded. "Yes. We'll have the discussion. We'll fill out the paperwork. Of course."
His voice remained firm, but respectful. "I also want to remind you about the revisions in my contract. The ones signed last quarter. I have final say over public disclosures regarding my private life unless there's proven reputational harm or conflict of interest."
You froze. That was new.
"Right," he added, voice quiet but clear. "There's no harm here. And no conflict. Just truth."
There was silence on the other end. Then Chan's shoulders relaxed. "Understood. We'll talk soon. Thank you."
He hung up.
You looked at him carefully. "Everything okay?"
Chan walked back toward you, sliding down beside you again, arm immediately wrapping around your waist.
"That was JYPE," he said. "They're not upset. More... surprised. The crowd's reaction helped. They said the energy online is overwhelmingly supportive. But..."
"But?"
"There's going to be a formal conversation. Paperwork. PR stuff to protect them—and us."
You nodded slowly. "I expected that."
He reached for your hand again. "What they don't realize is... we've already done the hard part."
You raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"Choosing each other," he said, squeezing your hand. "And not apologizing for it."
Your heart stilled at the quiet power in his words.
"And," he added with a playful smile, "they also forgot that I have three lawyers, a new clause in my contract, and a global fanbase already writing fanfics about you."
You laughed, burying your face into his chest. "Remind me never to doubt your strategy brain again."
He tilted your chin up. "I'm not letting go of this. Of you."
"You better not," you whispered.
He kissed you softly—once, then again.