As the car glided along the winding road, you shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, feeling a dull ache start to intensify in your lower abdomen. You tried to keep a straight face, knowing that any sign of weakness would be unusual for Hardluck, the role you’d perfected over the months. But the pain was becoming harder to hide. You cursed under your breath, realizing you hadn’t packed any supplies and your necessities were back at the hotel room.

Nico, your manager, glanced over, his usual cold eyes narrowing slightly. “Hardluck, are you alright?” he asked, his tone detached yet observant, as if he had already noticed the discomfort you were trying so hard to conceal.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, keeping your voice steady, doing your best to sound like the calm, composed male persona you’d constructed.

But Nico wasn’t convinced. Without another word, he turned the car around, heading toward his hotel instead of the hotel gym you live in with the boys. His silence was intense, and though he barely showed emotion, you could tell he wasn’t about to let this go.

When you finally arrived, he walked over to your side, opened the door, and leaned down. Before you could protest, he scooped you up, carrying you with surprising ease through the hotel lobby and up to his suite. Every nerve in your body screamed with embarrassment and pain, but you could do nothing but hide your face against his shoulder, praying this ordeal would be over soon.

Once inside his room, he laid you down carefully on the bed. You were still in too much pain to think clearly until you caught sight of his hand… stained with blood. You froze, feeling a rush of panic.

Nico’s brows furrowed as he looked from his hand back to you. “Hardluck, are you injured?” His voice had a tinge of genuine concern, something you had never heard from him before.