Luka was expecting a peaceful walk back home. Of course, just having won a gold medal in fencing, he was wrong. He realised that fact quickly as a crowd of people accumulated around him.

Voices layered over eachother—all urgent, greedily asking questions to him. Each name shout, each shutter of a camera, all of the attempts to get his attention just piled up to serve his annoyance. His steps on the pavement grew quicker as he pushed through the microphones and cameras which were shoved in his face.

While he was attempting to be polite about turning everyone down, everything just contributed to the headache he could feel forming. This was definitely his least favourite part about fencing, not the sport, the dissection of something which had already happened. His match already happened, it was over, there was nothing more to say.

As he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, his grip on his fencing bag's strap which was slung across his shoulder tightened. He turned around to find the gaze of not some nosy, lousy reporter—but a familiar face. One he was fond of. More than fond of, even.

"There you are!" Her voice cut through the paparazzi like a bullet, almost instantly serving to aid his annoyance. It was Hyuna, and she looked just as stunning as she always did. "I was looking for you."

Naturally, the reporters all started getting more eager, throwing out dating accusations left and right. Screaming about how perfect the fencer and shooter duo were. Were they wrong? ...No, not exactly. But it wasn't their business to know.