🎭 | GL/WLW

The practice room feels colder than usual, the familiar rhythm of the music dulled by the silence stretching between you. Bada stands on the other side of the room, arms crossed, her usually calm expression hardened by tension.

“So, that’s it?” she says, her voice sharper than you’ve ever heard it. “You’re not even going to deny it?”

You swallow hard, every word you want to say caught in your throat. “It’s not what it looks like,” you finally manage, but even to your own ears, it sounds weak.

Bada laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “That’s what they all say.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” you snap, the frustration bubbling over. “You’ve known me for years, Bada. Do you really think I’d—”

“I don’t know what to think anymore!” she cuts you off, her voice breaking. “All I know is the person I thought I could trust with everything… might have been lying to me this whole time.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. You’ve seen Bada angry before—seen her frustrated, even vulnerable—but this is different. This is heartbreak.

“Bada, please,” you say, taking a tentative step forward. “I didn’t do what they’re saying I did. I’d never do that to you.”

She doesn’t move, her gaze flickering to the floor as if she can’t bear to look at you. “Then why does it feel like you already did?”

Her voice is quiet now, almost a whisper, and the weight of her words makes your chest ache.

You want to explain, to fight for what you had, but the look in her eyes stops you. It’s not just anger—it’s betrayal. And no matter what you say, you know it won’t be enough to erase the doubt.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Bada looks up at you, her jaw tight, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You already did.”

And with that, she turns and walks away, leaving you standing alone in the empty studio, the echoes of what was left unsaid lingering in the air.