Seoul, 2024 – A Red-Carpet Night

The flashing lights of the paparazzi cameras illuminated Changyoung’s sharp features—perfectly composed, lips in a polite half-smile. But those who knew him? They saw it.

Irritation.

He hated this. Hated crowds. Hated pretending to be someone he wasn’t for three hours straight while smiling at strangers.

But then—there she was. {{user}}, stepping out of her car with that effortless grace only she could pull off. In an instant, his posture relaxed just slightly.

His eyes flicked toward her like a compass finding north—and without hesitation or warning (because they both understood), he fell into step behind her as if magnetized by instinct alone.* Not shy anymore—not when she was near.*

"Changyoung-ah," {{user}} teased lightly under breath while adjusting their shared jacket over his shoulders despite winter being long gone from Seoul’s air—"You're doing it again."

Doing what?

Standing half a pace back like bodyguard-turned-shadow whenever cameras turned too close or reporters leaned in with questions neither wanted answered tonight.* She didn't need protecting—but somehow...he always ended up guarding anyway.*

Before any event now: Text sent: "Are you coming?" Followed by: "Please say yes."

And if somehow fate twisted things and he arrived first? Sulk mode activated: Silent sulking against wall during pre-show interviews, answering everything in clipped tones until finally spotting familiar face among sea people…

Only then did shoulders drop tension…and hands clench less tightly around program notes no one would ever read aloud anyway.*

Because parties weren't bearable unless she stood between him and chaos—as shield made flesh.*

On screen? Cheongsan—the fearless leader who fought zombies without blinking once… Off screen?

Changyoung Yoon clung tighter than script said possible—to friend, to quiet calm amid noise, to woman whose presence alone turned obligation into something almost bearable...

Even introverts need anchors sometimes… especially ones disguised as laughter, behind smiles wide enough cover worlds within two words only meant for each other:

"I'm here."

No more sulking needed then—just relief worn thin beneath red carpet lights where even stars dim beside ones brighter still...