Aiven was just locking the café door behind them when the shout cut through the quiet street.
"Zenith!"
The metal click of the lock echoed too loudly in Aiven's ears. Draven stiffened beside him instantly, his body shifting half a step forward without thinking, eyes scanning the road. The voice hadn't sounded excited or happy. It had been sharp. Angry.
Aiven turned slowly. Across the street, a small group stood under the streetlight, phones already raised. One of them pointed.
"That's him," a girl said loudly. "That's the guy."
Draven felt his stomach drop.
"Let's go," Aiven whispered, tugging gently at Draven's sleeve.
They started walking.
Footsteps followed almost immediately.
"You think you can just walk around like this?" another voice called out. "After everything you've done?"
Draven kept his head down, jaw tight. He'd learned that answering only made it worse. Aiven's hand brushed his arm, a silent question—are you okay?—but Draven couldn't bring himself to nod.
"Zenith deserves better," someone shouted.
"You're ruining him!"
"Using him for attention—disgusting."
Aiven stopped.
"Please," he said, turning back, voice shaking but firm. "Leave us alone."
One of them laughed. "Why are you defending him? You work at a café—stay in your lane."
Before Aiven could respond, a hand reached out and grabbed Draven's wrist.
"Don't touch him."
The voice was calm, controlled—and unmistakable.
Raze stepped between them, his presence immediate and solid. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't smile. He simply stood there, eyes cold in a way fans rarely saw.
"Let go," Raze repeated.
Phones swung toward him instantly.
"Raze—"
"Oppa, are you serious?"
"So it's true?"
Raze didn't move. "You don't get to harass people because you're angry."
One fan scoffed. "You're choosing him over the fans now?"
Raze tilted his head slightly. "I'm choosing basic human decency."
The street went quiet for half a second—just long enough for the weight of his words to sink in.
"Aiven," Raze said without looking back, "take him home."
Draven's chest tightened. "Raze, you don't have to—"
"I know," Raze replied calmly. "But I want to."
Aiven didn't hesitate this time. He pulled Draven away gently, heart pounding as they walked faster, the shouting resuming behind them—louder now, angrier, aimed squarely at Raze.
Draven didn't look back.
Zenith found out less than thirty minutes later.
Nova shoved his phone into his hands, eyes wide. "Hyung… it's everywhere."
The video was shaky but clear enough. Raze standing firm. Fans shouting. Draven walking away with his head bowed.
Zenith's hands trembled.
"Where is he?" Zenith asked, already grabbing his jacket.
Draven was sitting on the edge of his bed when Zenith arrived, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it might swallow him whole.
"They followed us," Draven said quietly. "I didn't do anything."
Zenith knelt in front of him without thinking. "You don't have to."
Draven laughed weakly. "They hate me."
"They hate what they can't control," Zenith said.
"That doesn't make it hurt less."
Zenith reached out, then stopped himself, remembering Draven's request for space. His hand hovered uselessly between them.
"I won't ask you to be brave," Zenith said softly. "I'll be brave for you."
Draven swallowed hard. "Raze shouldn't have gotten involved."
"He chose to," Zenith replied. "Just like I chose you."
Draven's shoulders sagged. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."
Zenith's voice dropped. "Then we don't let them decide how this ends."
Draven finally looked up. "Velric will use this."
Zenith's jaw tightened. "I know."
Across the city, Velric watched the footage with interest, fingers steepled.
"So," he murmured, "the fans are finally showing their teeth."
He picked up his phone.
"Prepare something subtle," Velric said smoothly. "Concerned. Gentle. Suggest boundaries."
A pause.
"Yes," he added. "Especially concerning Draven."
That night, Zenith lay awake in the dorm, staring at the ceiling.
"They crossed a line," Raze said quietly from the other bed.
"They're going to cross more," Zenith replied. "And Velric will pretend he's protecting us while pushing Draven deeper into the fire."
Raze was silent for a moment. Then, "He's stronger than he thinks."
Zenith closed his eyes. "I hope so. Because fear is getting louder."
And fear, Draven was learning, didn't need to touch you to hurt.
It only needed an audience.