The morning after Lexie mediated the trainee conflict, her studio felt quieter than usual. The walls, always brimming with half-written lyrics and vocal warmups, now echoed her own thoughts. She arrived early, coffee in one hand and phone in the other, ready to check the day's schedule. But the first thing she saw wasn't the group chat or a rehearsal call sheet.
It was a headline.
"Idol-Producer Entanglement? The Shady Rise of SM's Golden Girl L:EXIE"
Her blood ran cold.
The article was from a gossip site known for fishing in murky waters, but it didn't stop netizens from spreading the link like wildfire.
It accused her of favoritism, hinted she had been romantically involved with more than one idol, and called into question her qualifications for producing at SM Entertainment. Screenshots of her walking next to Mark, exiting the studio with Taeyong, and even sitting beside Johnny during the after-party circulated with baseless captions.
"SM's new Y/N? The fanfiction writes itself."
Lexie's stomach churned.
She knew better than to read the comments—but her thumb betrayed her. She skimmed.
"Isn't she the one who ghosted her team during a live session last spring?"
She wasn't. But gossip didn't care for accuracy.
With a tight breath, she locked her phone and leaned over her desk, hands trembling.
A message popped up seconds later.
Junny Canadian brotha🍁🍂
Saw the article.
You okay?
Want me to drop by?
I'm fine, she replied. Thanks.
A lie.
* * *
By noon, it was trending.
Mark found out before she had a chance to breathe.
She was reviewing demo submissions with Taeyong when her phone buzzed again—his name flashing on the screen. She murmured a quick excuse and stepped into the hallway.
📞 Incoming Call: Mark Michael Lee 🌙🌙
"Lex?"
He didn't waste a breath. "I saw it. I'm calling PR. We can release a statement together if you want. I'll speak up —"
"No," she said, sharper than intended. She caught herself and softened her tone. "Thank you. But no. Please don't."
A pause. "Why not?"
"Because I don't need anyone shielding me this time. I can handle it."
"But—"
"I know you want to help. I really do. But the last time this happened... I hid behind someone else's apology. I need to stand on my own now."
"...Okay," he said after a beat. "But I'm not disappearing. If anyone says something to your face—I'll be there."
A faint smile touched her lips. "I know."
* * *
That evening, Kyungmin texted her.
Park Kyungmin
Meet me at the office.
Legal wants to talk.
She arrived at SM's headquarters half an hour later, dressed in her usual black blazer and with her hair pulled back—every inch prepared to fight.
But instead of a tense conference room, Kyungmin greeted her in the hallway with a grin.
"I have something better than legal action," he said, handing her his phone.
On the screen:
"The Truth Behind SM's Prodigy Producer: L:EXIE's Path from Architecture to K-Pop"
Lexie's brows pulled together as she read.
"Cebu-based aspiring architect Alexandra Jung bravely leads design team for Papua New Guinea urban development..."
"Award-winning designer Alexandra H. Jung at the forefront of sustainable master-planning in Southeast Asia..."
The article was filled with factual, well-sourced information. It detailed her architectural research, her work on a cross-national climate resilience project, and her 2019 keynote on equitable design access.
Photos accompanied the piece: Lexie in black slacks and a white hard hat, standing beside Papua New Guinea's Minister of Urban Development; another showed her hunched over blueprints, expression sharp and focused.
She blinked. "Where did this come from?"
A familiar voice answered behind her.
"I asked a few people to help," Junny said, stepping into the room. "Didn't want to overstep, but... I figured if they're going to drag you, they should at least know who they're dragging."
She turned to face him, incredulous. "You called in the company?"
"No. Not the company," he replied. "Just some journalist friends. People who actually care about truth. We didn't spin anything—we just reminded them who you really are."
Lexie's throat tightened.
"You're not just someone who 'rose fast' at SM," he continued. "You paused a whole career—a successful one—to build another. They needed to see that."
Behind him, Mark appeared, leaning against the doorway. "I helped too. Just... made sure it didn't sound like PR. Tried to keep it honest."
Lexie let out a dry laugh. "Urban master-planning? Papua New Guinea? You guys make me sound like some kind of undercover superhero."
Junny smirked. "Not undercover. Just underrated."
* * *
The article worked.
By nightfall, the tide online began to shift. People were quoting her interviews from years ago, piecing together a broader picture.
"Architect turned producer? The range omg."
"If L:EXIE helped design a whole district in PNG, she can definitely handle your fave's vocal arrangement lol."
Suddenly, she wasn't just a shadow behind idols. She was something more: a person with a story.
That night, she, Mark, and Junny sat on the rooftop of Mark's building, lukewarm drinks in hand, the city lights below blurred by low fog.
"I still don't like being in the center of attention like this," Lexie muttered.
"You didn't ask for it," Junny replied. "You earned it."
Mark nodded. "This isn't pity support. It's people finally seeing the full picture."
She glanced between the two of them, then leaned back, palms flat on the concrete behind her, exhaling.
"I wanted to wait to tell my parents about the house," she said suddenly. "But after today... I kind of want to tell them now. Remind them, too, of what we've built."
Mark's voice was quiet. "You're giving them a home. Just like they gave you one."
The silence that followed wasn't heavy this time—it was warm.
Junny raised his bottle. "To L:EXIE. Producer. Architect. Slayer of nonsense."
Lexie rolled her eyes but lifted hers to clink it. "To good friends."
Mark raised his. "And to the ones who stay."
Her eyes met his—steady, sincere.
She smiled. "To the ones who stay."
~~ 끝 ~~