Draven sat at the edge of the rooftop, the city lights below flickering like distant stars. His phone vibrated again and again, but he didn't pick it up. Every buzz made his stomach twist tighter.
"They're saying things," he muttered to himself. "They're saying things about me, about Zenith…"
Aiven appeared beside him without a sound, placing a hand lightly on Draven's shoulder. "Hey," he said softly. "Talk to me."
Draven exhaled slowly. "Velric… he's doing something. He's—he's putting it all out there. The fans, the article… it's going to ruin everything."
Aiven knelt down to meet his gaze. "Then we fight it. Together."
Draven shook his head. "Together? How can I fight when everyone—Zenith, the fans, even Raze—they're all tangled in this and I just… I don't know if I can handle it."
"You can," Aiven said firmly. "Because you're not alone. Zenith's not alone. And neither are you. You need to tell him how you feel."
Draven's stomach dropped. "What if he—"
"You won't know unless you try," Aiven interrupted, voice sharp but caring. "You trust him, don't you?"
Draven hesitated, then nodded. "I… I do."
Meanwhile, in the dorm, Zenith scrolled through his phone in quiet frustration. Screenshots, videos, comments—they were everywhere. And worse, Velric's subtle manipulations had fans doubting him, questioning him, and worse, hating Draven without reason.
His fingers curled into fists. "This stops tonight," he muttered.
Nova peeked in, hesitant. "Hyung… do you want me to call someone?"
"No," Zenith said firmly. "I have to do this myself. I can't… not now."
Draven's decision came suddenly. He grabbed his phone, fingers trembling. He dialed Zenith's number, heart racing so fast it hurt.
Zenith answered almost immediately. "Draven?"
"I… I need to see you," Draven said, voice breaking. "Now."
"I'm on my way," Zenith replied, cutting the call before any hesitation could set in.
Ten minutes later, they met under the neon glow of a quiet street. Fans were still out there, still shouting—but both Draven and Zenith ignored them. They only had eyes for each other.
"You okay?" Zenith asked quietly.
Draven nodded, but his lips trembled. "I… I can't take it anymore. I hate seeing everyone making you deal with this. I hate feeling helpless."
Zenith reached out, cupping Draven's cheek gently. "Then let me protect you," he said. "I can't fix the world, but I can be with you. Right here, right now."
Draven closed his eyes, letting the tension bleed away. "I… I like you," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I… I really like you."
Zenith's lips curved into the faintest smile. "I know."
Draven blinked, startled. "You… you do?"
"I've known for a while," Zenith said softly, leaning closer. "And I like you too. More than I should admit out loud."
Draven's heart thudded so hard he thought it might burst. For a moment, all the anger, fear, and chaos faded. The fans, the articles, Velric's schemes—they didn't exist. It was just him and Zenith.
Their lips met slowly at first, hesitant, tasting the moment. Then urgency took over. Draven's hands curled into Zenith's shirt, holding on as if letting go would erase everything. Zenith kissed him back, hands sliding to Draven's shoulders, steadying him, grounding him.
When they finally pulled apart, breaths ragged and hearts racing, Draven whispered, "I want to… be with you. I don't care what anyone thinks."
Zenith smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Draven's forehead. "Then we'll face it together. No matter what."
Back at Velric's office, he scowled at his screen. The article hadn't had the effect he wanted. Fans were confused, some even supportive of Draven now. His plan to isolate Zenith's influence was backfiring.
"Impossible," he muttered. "They're not falling for it."
He slammed his fist against the desk. "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."
That night, as the city slept, Draven and Zenith walked back toward the dorm, fingers intertwined, hearts beating in sync. They had taken the first real step, together, and for once, the world didn't feel so heavy.
The lines had been drawn. And for the first time, Draven felt like maybe—just maybe—they could cross them safely, together.