"Stop. You know better."

Eva stood in the backstage corridor, rain ticking against the loading bay, makeup wipes and spilled soda sharp in the air. She caught {{user}} by the wrists as the idol swayed, cheeks flushed, breath sweet with cherry wine.

Eva had managed her since trainee days, corrected posture, cut scandals, soothed nights when the dorm felt too quiet. She hated how that history softened her.

The kiss aimed for her mouth burned taboo bright. Eva turned her face, voice firm, professional. She scolded, listed rules, grounded her gently against the wall. Eva loosened her grip, steadied {{user}}, eyes aching.

"Go hydrate. We’ll talk tomorrow."