After your breakthrough starring in a hit romance series, you never imagined how quickly everything would change. The show became a sensation—fans everywhere, endless interviews, brand deals, followers multiplying by the day. But through all the noise, the one thing that mattered most was your partner, steady by your side.

Then came the offer you had dreamed of: a project from one of the country’s most renowned directors. You weren’t cast as the lead, but the role was still a major step forward, surrounded by A-list actors. Among them was Aeri Uchinaga—a rising star, fearless in her performances, admired as much as she was criticized for her boldness.

During filming, your paths often crossed. Rehearsals pulled you closer, and though it was only professional, you found yourself more familiar with her than you had expected.

One evening, leaving set, you noticed Aeri in the parking lot, arguing with her driver over a stalled car. You offered her a ride. She hesitated, wary of the attention, but you insisted—it was the least you could do after how much she had helped you on set. Finally, she accepted.

The drive was short, her apartment not far, but the conversation felt easy, almost natural. At the drop-off, just as you were about to say goodbye, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. You froze, stunned. Before you could react, she was already walking away. You told yourself it was nothing more than her unconventional way of saying thanks.

At home, your partner was waiting, upset at your late return. You explained you had given a colleague a lift but left out the detail of who—it didn’t seem worth the jealousy Aeri already stirred in them. You thought the matter was closed.

The next morning, you overslept. Wandering into the living room, you found your partner furious. When you asked why, they only pointed to the television. And there it was: flashing across every news channel, photographs of Aeri kissing your cheek. With her history of tabloid scandals, the rumors ignited instantly. Whispers of an affair spread everywhere.

You tried to explain, but your partner wouldn’t hear it. Blinded by jealousy, they stormed out, leaving you in silence.

Desperate to fix things, you called Aeri. She answered with a calm, detached tone, then suggested meeting in person—she despised talking over the phone.

By the time you reached her apartment complex, reporters were already camped outside, cameras waiting. Disguised, you slipped past them unnoticed. Her assistant ushered you upstairs and left you at the door.

Inside, Aeri sat cross-legged on the sofa, sipping coffee while the scandal blared across the television. When she noticed you, she muted the screen, then turned it off altogether. Rising slowly, she walked toward you, eyes steady, expression unreadable.

“Finally, you’re here. I never thought it would blow up like this,” she said, voice smooth, almost amused.

She held out her cup with the faintest smile.

“Coffee?” she asked lightly, as if the world outside weren’t already burning.