Yang sat beside Jaeyel on the couch, his elbow resting on the armrest, fingers grazing his lips as he watched him sleep.

Jaeyel had only just drifted off, his breathing soft and even. His brows, usually drawn in exhaustion or concentration, were finally relaxed. His lips, slightly parted, looked almost inviting.

Yang’s gaze traced the gentle slope of his nose, the faint flutter of his lashes, the way his collar had slipped slightly, exposing the delicate curve of his collarbone.

Something coiled tight in his chest.

His fingers twitched. If he reached out now—

He inhaled sharply and looked away, his jaw clenching. He needed to leave. If he stayed any longer, he might do something he shouldn’t.

With one last lingering glance at Jaeyel’s sleeping face, he exhaled slowly and stood.

Not yet.

---

Jaeyel blinked awake, feeling oddly warm and… comfortable?

Wait.

He sat up abruptly, eyes widening when he realized he was inside a guest room. He didn’t remember coming here.

Did… did Yang carry him while he was sleeping?

His face burned at the thought. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

“That bastard…” he muttered under his breath.

Sure, it was nice of him, but still! Who just picks up a grown man and moves him without permission?

Jaeyel huffed, shaking off the embarrassment before stepping out of the room.

---

The scent of food filled the air as he walked into the living room.

Yang stood in the kitchen, dressed in a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to expose the veins on his forearms. He moved effortlessly, plating the food like he’d done this a hundred times before.

When he noticed Jaeyel, he gave a small nod toward the table.

“Sit.”

Jaeyel hesitated for a second before obeying. “Good morning…” he muttered as he sat down.

Yang placed a plate in front of him—a perfectly made breakfast, warm and fresh.

Jaeyel stared at it, then at Yang. “…You made this?”

Yang raised an eyebrow. “Who else would’ve?”

Jaeyel glanced at the perfectly cooked eggs, the neatly arranged side dishes, and then back at Yang. He didn’t seem like the type to cook for someone else. But here he was.

He picked up his chopsticks, taking a hesitant bite. The flavors hit his tongue—rich, perfectly balanced. He chewed slowly, glancing at Yang.

“…This is really good.”

Yang smirked slightly. “I know.”

Jaeyel caught himself staring—was that the first time he’d seen Yang smile like this? Even if it was brief, it made him feel… different.

Flustered, Jaeyel huffed. “Cocky.” It was the best way to mask the warmth creeping up his face.

He had never seen him like this before.

And somehow, it made Jaeyel’s chest feel weird.

Jaeyel cleared his throat, trying to push the feeling away. “Do you always cook for guests?”

Yang didn’t look up. “No.”

Jaeyel blinked, grasping for something, anything to ground himself. “So I’m special, then?”

He meant it as a joke, a flimsy attempt to steady his nerves, but the second the words left his lips, regret curled in his stomach.

Yang finally met his gaze, eyes dark and intense. “Would that make you happy?” His voice was lower now, smoother—dangerous.

Jaeyel’s breath hitched.

The air between them thickened, charged with something he wasn’t sure he was ready to name. For a moment, his mind went blank, his body hyper-aware of the space between them.

He forgot how to respond.

The air between them shifted. It was subtle, but it was there—a slow, creeping tension curling between them like smoke.

Jaeyel quickly looked away, stuffing another bite of food into his mouth. “Whatever,” he muttered under his breath.

Yang’s lips curved into the faintest smirk as his gaze lingered on Jaeyel’s flushed ears before he casually returned to his meal.

---

After breakfast, Yang handed Jaeyel a neatly folded set of clothes—expensive-looking, of course.

“Change into these,” Yang said simply.

Jaeyel blinked at the clothes, then at Yang. “You bought me these?”

“Does it matter?”

Jaeyel sighed. Of course, it was Yang’s way of saying yes.

“And I’ll drive you to your schedule,” Yang added.

Jaeyel hesitated. Going to the company with the CEO himself? That would raise some eyebrows. But at the same time… he knew Yang wasn’t going to let him leave alone anyway.

With a sigh, he muttered, “…Fine.”

As they were about to leave, something caught Jaeyel’s eye.

In the corner of the room, partly hidden behind a large plant, was a small, elegant drawer. Sitting on top of it was a book… and a bracelet.

Jaeyel’s steps slowed.

The bracelet looked… familiar.

Something tugged at the back of his mind, a memory just out of reach. He was about to take a closer look when—

“We’re leaving,” Yang’s voice cut in, sharp and firm.

Jaeyel blinked, turning to him. “Right…”

As he walked past, he didn’t notice Yang’s gaze shifting back to the drawer.

There was something in his eyes.

Something… unsettling.

---

At the company.

Jaeyel sat with his members, discussing the line distribution for their next song. Everyone was reading over their parts when one of the staff members frowned.

“…Something’s off,” she muttered before calling the music director over.

Meanwhile, Steve, one of the members, groaned. “Damn, I forgot to tell them about our lunch order.”

The members groaned in response.

Jaeyel, who was already thinking of heading to the restroom, sighed. “I’ll tell them.”

His members grinned, teasing him as he got up.

“Aw, look at Jaeyel, being responsible.”

“Such a good fake maknae~”

Jaeyel rolled his eyes but didn’t argue as he left the room.

---

As he walked down the hallway, he spotted the staff talking to the music director in a corner. He was about to call out to her—

Then he heard his name.

“…Jaeyel should get more lines.”

Jaeyel barely reacted, still focused on the lyrics in front of him. But then—

“You don’t want to get on his bad side.”

Jaeyel’s fingers twitched around the paper.

“Of course not,” the music director muttered. “With the current acting CEO backing him, we can’t afford to upset him.”

Jaeyel’s entire body froze.

What?

The words repeated in his head. CEO? Yang? backing him?

The staff sighed. “He was personally recruited by the CEO himself. There’s no way we can treat him like the others.”

Jaeyel’s pulse pounded in his ears.

Personally recruited…?

He felt lightheaded, like the ground beneath him had shifted.

The staff lowered her voice. “You know, the moment CEO Yang stepped in as acting CEO, the first thing he did was recruit someone.”

The music director scoffed. “Right. And that someone just happened to be Jaeyel.”

Jaeyel froze. His pulse hammered in his ears.

Had Yang… known him even before he debuted?

Had everything—the audition, the contract, his debut—been planned from the start?

But… why?

Why was Yang always there?

Every time something happened—whether it was the stalker, the late-night rides—Yang was there, stepping in like he had already known what was coming.

At first, Jaeyel tried to brush it off. Told himself he was overthinking it. Yang was just being… responsible? Considerate? Maybe even kind?

But was he?

Jaeyel had been trying to trust that little kindness he saw in Yang—the rare moments when he didn’t seem like the cold CEO, when his voice was softer, when he looked at Jaeyel like…

…like what?

Like he knew him.

Like he had always known him.

A shiver ran down his spine.

Jaeyel gripped the paper, his mind racing.

He had never questioned it before. Never wondered why he, of all people, had been scouted on the street that day.

And now, for the first time—

It terrified him.

Jaeyel’s stomach twisted.

Was this… not a coincidence?

Had Yang been involved from the very beginning?

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

And for the first time since meeting Yang—

He felt afraid.