jake and you were both idols and dating, in secret of course.

you were a member of le sserafim and your group just had a concert in seoul today.

jake had slipped in quietly, baseball cap low, mask covering half his face. no one could know he was here—being seen at his girlfriends concert was too risky. still, there he was, heart racing as the lights dimmed and your solo stage began.

the music kicked in—sultry, sharp, and powerful. you glided across the stage in your glittering outfit, spotlight catching your every angle. jake couldnt help the way his chest swelled with pride. thats my girl.

but then a male backup dancer appeared. and not just any choreography—his hand brushed against your waist, sliding with precision as you spun into his hold and jakes jaw nearly dropped.

no. nope. too close. why is he that close? did his hand have to be on her waist like that?! no, calm down jake. Its just a stage… he tried to reassure himself.

the fans screamed louder as the dancer lifted you into a half-dip, his face mere inches from yours. jake felt his fists clench in his hoodie pocket.

okay, thats it. when did choreography get this touchy? who approved this? who choreographed this? i just want to talk. politely. maybe. he thought.

you practically bounced into the waiting room, hair damp with sweat, cheeks glowing. you spotted jake immediately, slouched in the corner, arms crossed, a storm cloud practically hovering over his head.

“jake! you came! did you see my stage?” you asked, grinning.

“oh, i saw it. loud and clear.” he answered, his voice monotone and his eyes narrowed.

“…why do you sound like you just watched a crime scene?” you blinked, tilting your head.

jake finally snapped his gaze to you, his voice and face sulky. “because i basically did. that dancer—” he gestured vaguely, throwing his hands up. “—he was all over you!”