The soft hum of the car engine filled the space between them, a subtle undercurrent beneath the silence that stretched through the vehicle. Axel sat in the passenger seat of Jayvaughn's sleek black car, arms folded loosely across his chest, eyes fixed on the blurred scenery speeding past the window. He wasn't really looking at anything. His thoughts were too loud.
Habit is a terrifying thing, Axel mused. One month ago, he would've never imagined letting Jayvaughn this close. Now, somehow, the man had carved a space in his daily routine like it was always meant to be there. The way Jayvaughn kept showing up unannounced—it had become so frequent that Axel had simply grown used to it.
He sighed quietly, remembering the morning's events. They'd eaten breakfast together again. It had almost felt domestic—too domestic. After they finished, Jayvaughn had casually suggested they head to the company together. And like a fool, Axel had just nodded, not even hesitating. Not even thinking.
"Axel, what happened to keeping your distance? What happened to staying cold so he never gets close enough to find out the truth?" he scolded himself mentally. But just as quickly, another thought crept in, softer but defensive: "This isn't my fault. I never asked him to follow me around. He's the one who keeps sticking to me like glue."
He frowned at that, sighing again. If he wasn't careful, Jayvaughn would end up discovering everything he'd tried so hard to keep buried. That couldn't happen.
Jayvaughn, behind the wheel, glanced sideways just in time to catch Axel frown, then relax, his expression slipping from tense to blank like waves receding after a storm. He didn't say anything, but the silence shifted. It wasn't awkward—more like a mutual understanding that words weren't necessary right now.
The rest of the drive passed quietly.
When they finally pulled up in front of the tall glass building bearing the bold, polished logo of Draxler Entertainment, Axel stepped out, his eyes momentarily locking on the shimmering letters. "You can really do anything when you have money," he muttered under his breath, his tone unreadable.
Jayvaughn Draxler, the rich man who had retired from the army only to dive into the idol industry and build a boy band like it was a weekend project. Axel had never really understood it. From gunfire and desert boots to microphones ,piano and choreo lines—it made no sense. But then again, nothing about Jayvaughn ever did.
They entered the building and made their way to the elevator, the mirrored walls reflecting their contrasting figures: Jayvaughn in a simple fitted black turtleneck, poised and unreadable as ever, and Axel in something similar, one short one tall. They reached the manager's floor quickly.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, Axel stepped out and walked toward the familiar office. He didn't even get the chance to turn the doorknob.
The door swung open from the inside, and suddenly a blur of motion hurtled toward him. Instinct kicked in. Axel's hand twitched toward a neck chop before reason slammed back into his brain. This is the company. No one's going to attack you here. And Jayvaughn's right beside you, idiot.
Before he could fully react, a loud wail pierced his ears and a man flung his arms around him.
"Oh, my sweet baby! How could a fragile little thing like you be in a coma for a whole year? Thank heavens you're alright! I was so worried!" the man sobbed dramatically.
Axel rolled his eyes so hard he nearly saw stars. Of course, it was him.
"Mr. Alan," Axel muttered with dry annoyance.
Their overly flamboyant group manager continued to cling to him, practically sobbing into his shoulder like they were long-lost lovers instead of manager and idol.
"You were so worried," Axel echoed with a raised brow, "but you didn't visit me even once?"
Mr. Alan clutched his chest like Axel had stabbed him with a dagger, stumbling back a step as if his heart might break from the accusation. "My dear Axel! How could you say something so cruel? It wasn't my fault!"
He jabbed a dramatic finger in Jayvaughn's direction. "Blame that capitalist tyrant beside you! He dumped five other artists on me while you were gone! I didn't even have time to breathe, let alone visit someone who just woke up from coma!"
Axel turned to Jayvaughn, one eyebrow raised in mock accusation. Jayvaughn, true to form, only shrugged, eyes calm, expression unreadable—as if the chaos around him had nothing to do with him.
Mr. Alan, oblivious to the growing irritation on Axel's face, kept rambling. "You have no idea how I suffered! I've aged five years in one!"
Axel stared at him, expression blank. Internally, he was praying to every deity he knew. Thank God this man never visited me. I would've strangled him before he made it through the door.
Thankfully, Noah, who had been lounging on the couch with his phone in hand, chose that moment to intervene. "Mr. Alan, didn't you say we needed to discuss the new music video arrangements?"
"Oh!" Mr. Alan gasped, blinking like he had just remembered the purpose of this entire meeting. "Yes! Yes, of course!"
He clapped his hands and suddenly shifted into professional mode, pulling out a folder and launching into a detailed breakdown of their schedules. "I've already hired Fanny Digital to shoot the MV. We'll begin filming in two weeks. But before that, you all need to finish recording the new tracks. You're going to be very busy. Very busy, indeed."
The meeting stretched for over two hours. Axel endured it with quiet patience, occasionally zoning out while the others asked questions or offered suggestions. Mr. Alan never ran out of breath.
Finally, they were released.
As they stepped out into the hallway, Jayvaughn turned to Axel.
"Want me to drop you home?" he asked. "I still have work at the head office."
Axel looked at him, then away. Jayvaughn's is really living a fulfilling life. He is an idol, and also a businessman. He lives double lives without even trying.
He shook his head. "No, it's fine. I want to walk around a little. Maybe check out the building. It's been a while since I've gone out."
Jayvaughn nodded and reached out to ruffle Axel's hair. The motion was so natural, so familiar, that Axel smacked his hand away on instinct.
"Stop doing that," he muttered, glaring.
Jayvaughn only smiled and handed him something—a small package. Axel raised an eyebrow and opened it to find a black baseball cap, a pair of sunglasses, and a sleek designer face mask.
"What's this?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.
Jayvaughn chuckled under his breath. "I know you've been out of the public eye for a year, but don't forget you're still famous. You step out without covering your face, you're going to be swarmed."
Axel blinked, the realization dawning slowly. He looked down at the items in his hands, then back at Jayvaughn. This is such a hassle, he thought, but something in his chest tightened at the gesture. A kind of quiet care that Jayvaughn rarely put into words but always seemed to show in moments like this.
"Thanks," Axel muttered, almost too quietly.
Jayvaughn gave a little wave, turned, and walked away, his tall figure disappearing around the corner.