It started with one photo.

Blurry. Late at night. Your hand in G-Dragon’s. T.O.P just steps behind, looking at you, not the cameras.

The internet explodes. Rumors spiral. Fans go wild. The company scrambles for statements, damage control, silence.

But they don’t hide.

Not this time.

G-Dragon shows up at your door the next morning, no disguise, no apology. “If they know, they know.” He pulls you into a kiss that’s no longer secret—no longer afraid.

T.O.P is already inside. Calm as ever. He hands you a cup of coffee like it was any other day. But there’s something new in his voice when he says, “I’m done pretending you’re not mine.”

They don’t care about the headlines anymore. They don’t care about contracts, whispers, or staged smiles.

They care about you—the quiet mornings, the chaotic nights, the realness between the three of you that no label can define.

“Let them talk,” G-Dragon says again, softer this time. “We’ve got nothing to hide now,” T.O.P adds, fingers brushing yours.

And for the first time… it’s not a secret.

It’s love. Out loud.