The dorm was alive with the faint hum of activity as the ECLYPSE members prepared for the next round of interviews and rehearsal schedules. Lights flickered on in the practice rooms, and the faint sound of music floated down the hallways. Even after the comeback concert, the energy never seemed to stop.
Draven sat quietly in a corner of the lounge, still feeling the aftershocks of his moment with Zenith the night before. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Zenith had looked at him, how his hand had felt in his, how real everything had suddenly seemed. Every instinct screamed at him to stay cautious—fans, Velric, and the constant weight of secrecy—but his heart, for the first time in a long while, felt light.
Zenith appeared beside him, tall and commanding, yet soft when it came to Draven. His dark eyes flicked over the practice schedule clutched in his hand before finally settling on Draven. "You should come with me to watch the group rehearse," he said quietly. "It's… calmer than you might think, and you can see the work behind the scenes."
Draven hesitated, thinking about Aiven at the café and the chaos waiting outside the dorm. But something in Zenith's voice made him nod. "Okay," he whispered.
Meanwhile, Aiven wiped down tables at the café, eyes occasionally drifting to the window. He could feel the tension building again. Fans were buzzing online about the comeback, and though he tried to ignore it, he knew that Raze and the rest of ECLYPSE were feeling the pressure. He clenched his jaw and reminded himself that Raze would be fine, and that he had to focus on supporting him, even from afar.
Back at the dorm, Draven and Zenith entered the practice room just as the members were finishing a particularly intense routine. Raze spotted them and gave a small nod of acknowledgment, though he quickly returned his focus to correcting a formation with Kaze and Astyx. Nova waved at Draven, grinning mischievously, while Zenith subtly blocked Draven from the view of the rest of the group, as if shielding him from attention.
Draven's stomach fluttered with nerves. He wasn't part of the group, and yet he felt… included. For the first time, he didn't feel like an outsider.
The calm didn't last long. A faint notification sound vibrated on Draven's phone, and he saw a message that made his chest tighten. A fan had spotted someone entering Zenith's private residence and had posted photos online. The comments were instant, toxic, and relentless.
"Who's that with Zenith?!"
"He doesn't deserve him!"
"Protect your idol, Zenith!"
Draven's fingers trembled as he read. Zenith's fans had always been protective, but this… this was something else. Far worse than Raze's. Their words were sharp, biting, full of hatred toward him, as if he were a threat rather than a person.
Zenith noticed the change in Draven's posture instantly. He reached out, placing a hand on Draven's shoulder. "Ignore them," he said firmly. "They don't control us. They don't define who we are."
Draven's eyes darted to him, searching for reassurance. "It's… it's hard," he admitted. "They hate me… because of you."
Zenith's grip tightened, gentle but unyielding. "Then let them. I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you. Tonight, this… what we have… it's ours. Not theirs, not Velric's, not anyone else's."
Velric, across town in his office, scowled at his monitors. His scheme had backfired yet again. Zenith and Draven were growing closer, stronger, and the fans were starting to pick up on their bond—some curious, some supportive. Velric's emails, messages, and subtle leaks to the press had only fueled the rumors instead of destroying the boys' image.
He slammed his fist against the desk. "Why won't it work?!" he growled. "This shouldn't be possible! These boys are too… united. Too careful."
He leaned back, trying to think of his next move, but even he could feel the tightening noose of his own failures. The fans, the media, the boys themselves—they were too strong, too connected. And he was running out of options.
Back in the practice room, Zenith and Draven finally found a moment of privacy. Zenith leaned close, voice low and teasing. "You don't have to be scared of them," he murmured. "Not while I'm here."
Draven's chest rose and fell rapidly. "I… I'm just tired," he said softly, though his words were more about the emotional weight of the day than physical exhaustion.
Zenith's eyes softened. "I know. That's why I want to take care of you. Just you, just us, for a little while. No fans, no gossip, no Velric. Just this moment."
Draven's fingers found Zenith's, lacing together, squeezing tightly. He allowed himself to rest against him, heart pounding but strangely calm. The chaos outside might rage endlessly, but here, in this small space, he felt a glimmer of peace.
Meanwhile, Raze and Aiven were finally reunited after the long rehearsal. Raze's focus had been unwavering during practice, but his mind kept drifting to Aiven. Seeing him now, alive, aware of the pressures yet standing strong—it made his chest ache. He wrapped an arm around Aiven's shoulder. "You okay?" he whispered.
Aiven smiled faintly, leaning against him. "I will be… as long as you're here."
The tension of the past weeks—the fan harassment, the overwhelming expectations, the constant fear of Velric—seemed to melt for a moment. For both couples, it was rare to feel this safe. But both knew the storm wasn't over.
Draven's phone buzzed again—another message, more toxic comments from Zenith's fans. He felt a flicker of panic, but Zenith was already guiding him away from the screen. "Don't give them power," Zenith said softly. "You belong to no one but yourself… and me."
Draven exhaled shakily, letting the words sink in. For the first time, he truly believed it. He trusted Zenith with everything he had, and Zenith's trust in him mirrored his own.
They left the practice room hand in hand, hearts beating in sync, stepping into the hallway filled with quiet anticipation. Outside, the world continued its relentless chaos, but inside, a quiet determination settled. They would face whatever came next together, no matter how toxic the fans, no matter how cunning Velric, no matter how impossible it seemed.
The storm was coming, but for the first time in months, Draven and Zenith felt like they could weather it. And somewhere deep down, both of them knew the next steps—the next challenges, the next fights, the next moments of intimacy—were coming faster than they expected.
But for now, they walked side by side, fingers intertwined, hearts beating as one.