The noise is a physical force, vibrating the field beneath your sneakers. Sixty thousand people are screaming, the scoreboard is flashing a triumphant WINNER, and a cloud of gold confetti is raining down like a monsoon.

Your camera is up, your fingers are already flying across the screen of your phone, the caption almost drafted. As his Community Manager, this is your Super Bowl—the perfect engagement window. You’re focused, adrenaline humming through your veins.

And then, the sea of jerseys in front of you parts.

Through the crowd of photographers and roaring teammates, a figure emerges like a runaway truck.

Kim Mingyu.

He looks absolutely ravaged—padded shoulders glistening with sweat, his jaw paint smeared across his cheek, his breathing heavy and ragged from the last four quarters of hell. He just won the championship. His name is currently trending number one on every platform on the planet.

But he isn’t celebrating with the team. He isn't looking for the trophy.

His eyes are locked onto you.

Panic flutters in your chest. You’re supposed to be invisible. You’re supposed to be capturing him from the sidelines, not being part of the story. You try to lower the camera, to step back, but there’s no room to move.

He doesn't slow down. He breaches the sideline barrier in one fluid, massive leap, tackling you not with force, but with a desperate, crushing embrace. His large, taped hand smashes against the back of your head to pull you flush against his chest, shielding you from the camera flashes.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his voice a raw, jagged growl that cuts through the stadium’s roar.

"Tell me you got it," he pants, his entire body trembling against yours. His heartbeat is a frantic drum against your ribs. "Tell me you were watching the whole time, CM." He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that has nothing to do with the game.

His sweaty hand catches your chin, lifting your face, his voice dropping to a dangerous, proprietary whisper.

"Don't look at the screen. Look at me. I did that for you. Every damn yard."