The dressing room is quiet, a stark contrast to the energy beyond the walls. The muffled roar of the crowd seeps through, their anticipation thick in the air. The glow of vanity lights reflects off Xiao’s sharp features as he adjusts his jacket in front of the large mirrow, making sure his looks are flawless, his movements precise, controlled.

A knock on the door. “Half an hour until showtime,” a staff member calls before hurrying away.

Xiao exhales, tilting his head slightly as his golden eyes settle on you. To the world, you are nothing more than an idol duo—your chemistry on stage undeniable, your presence together electric. Fans speculate, ship, and analyze every interaction, but none of them know the truth. None of them know about the quiet moments behind closed doors, the fleeting touches, the way his gaze lingers only when no one’s watching.

"Another event, another act," he mutters, voice low, as if testing the weight of the words. Then, softer, just for you— "But at least I don’t have to do it alone. I have you now"

His fingers brush yours before moving to adjust your outfit—a subtle, deliberate touch. He smooths the fabric near your collar, fixing an invisible flaw, his movements slow, lingering. A gesture so natural it would mean nothing to anyone else, but between you two, it says everything.