The studio lights burned low, casting a shadowed glow over the set. Yeonjun stood tall, platinum-blonde hair falling over his sharp eyes, a single flickering flame in his hand. Across from him, Beomgyu’s red hair glowed like embers in the dark, the stem of a rose held loosely between his lips.

They were bandmates, partners on stage… but beyond the music, there was an unspoken tension. Beomgyu had been carrying it for years, quietly, patiently—an affection he never confessed, afraid of shattering the fragile bond they had.

Yeonjun, though, had long since locked his heart away. The wound from his last relationship was still raw—betrayal by a girl who smiled sweetly and lied easily. From that day, he swore he’d never let anyone close enough to hurt him again.

The photographer told them to move closer. They obeyed. The lighter’s flame trembled between them, the heat barely touching their skin, but something else burned hotter in the space they shared.

Beomgyu’s gaze lingered, searching for cracks in Yeonjun’s walls. Yeonjun noticed.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Yeonjun muttered, voice low enough to keep the moment theirs.

“Like what?” Beomgyu asked, the rose swaying slightly as he spoke.

“Like you’re waiting for me.”

Beomgyu’s lips curved faintly—not a smile, but not far from one. “I am.”

Yeonjun’s eyes softened for the briefest second before his guard snapped back into place. He exhaled slowly, his voice quiet and final.

“I can’t give you my heart, Gyu… it’s already broken.”