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The first few months after the official pairing announcement had felt almost unreal to Patji, as if he had somehow wandered into the middle of one of those soft, glowing romance edits fans stitched together at three in the morning with slowed songs and shimmering filters layered over stolen glances, because Ryujin had been everywhere around him, impossibly attentive in a way that made people tease him endlessly, clinging to Patji backstage with sleepy smiles and fingers constantly reaching for him without thought, adjusting his microphone before staff could even move, bringing him drinks already opened because he remembered Patji struggled with his nails after long rehearsals, standing too close during interviews simply because he liked being close, and looking at him with such raw fondness that even the MCs hosting their lives had started laughing nervously whenever they caught Ryujin staring too long.
At first, Patji had drowned in it happily.
Because this was Ryujin.
Ryujin, who had chased after him with ridiculous persistence from the very beginning, who had hovered around him during schedules like a bright restless flame that refused to go out, who had memorized his favorite snacks, who had once skipped half a company dinner just to sit outside with him when Patji got overwhelmed by too many people speaking at once, who had looked at him during their official pairing announcement with eyes so unbearably warm that Patji genuinely forgot the cameras existed for a moment.
Ryujin loved loudly.
Patji loved quietly.
And somewhere in the beginning, it had fit together perfectly.
Until the comments started sinking under Patji’s skin like tiny glass splinters.
At first he told himself he was overthinking.
Fans always exaggerated chemistry between actors. It was normal. Shipping culture thrived on tiny moments, harmless interactions, accidental touches blown into entire fantasy universes. Patji understood that. He had been in the industry long enough to know how fans worked.
But then came the livestream with Firstone.
Patji remembered it with painful clarity because the moment itself had lasted less than five seconds, yet his chest had carried it for days afterward like a bruise hidden beneath clothing.
Firstone had been laughing while eating some chocolate snack the staff brought into the waiting room, talking too fast as crumbs clung near the corner of his mouth, and Ryujin had leaned over instinctively with that easy affectionate smile of his before wiping the remaining chocolate away with his thumb.
Simple.
Harmless.
Natural.
Everyone laughed.
Firstone dramatically clutched his chest and screamed about Ryujin being boyfriend material while the comments exploded so quickly they blurred across the screen.
“RYUJIN HAS MORE CHEMISTRY WITH FIRSTONE THAN ANYONE ELSE.”
“PATJI WHERE ARE YOU 😭”
“THE WAY HE LOOKS AT FIRSTONE HELLO????”
“RYUJIN IS FLIRTING AGAIN.”
Patji had laughed too.
He even nudged Ryujin afterward and joked about him collecting husbands like Pokémon cards.
Ryujin laughed loudly at that, wrapping an arm around Patji’s shoulders immediately as if to reassure him without needing to think about it, pulling him close enough that their cheeks almost brushed while saying, “I only need one husband though.”
Everyone around them had screamed.
Patji smiled.
But later that night, alone in his apartment with only the blue glow of his phone illuminating the room, he found himself rereading those comments again and again despite hating the way they made him feel.
Then came Kim.
A crowded event.
Bright flashing cameras.
Dozens of actors squeezed together backstage while stylists darted around like frantic birds trying to repair outfits seconds before filming.
Kim had nearly stumbled while stepping down from one of the platforms, and Ryujin caught him immediately, one arm wrapping securely around his waist to steady him before laughing and keeping him there for several seconds longer than necessary while teasing him for being clumsy.
Again, harmless.
Again, everyone laughed.
Again, comments flooded endlessly afterward.
“WHY DOES RYUJIN LOOK MORE COMFORTABLE WITH KIM?”
“PATJI IS THIRD WHEELING HIS OWN SHIP.”
“RYUJIN FLIRTS WITH EVERYONE EXCEPT HIS ACTUAL PARTNER.”
That one stayed with Patji.
Especially because he began noticing things after that.
Not actual betrayal.
Never betrayal.
Ryujin always came back to him at the end of schedules, always searched for him first in crowded rooms, always texted him goodnight no matter how exhausted he was, always reached for his hand beneath tables where cameras could not see.
But Ryujin was naturally affectionate.
Naturally charming.
Naturally magnetic.
And Patji…
Patji froze whenever cameras focused on him too long.
Whenever Ryujin suddenly touched him in public, his entire brain short-circuited into static because despite being officially together now, despite kissing Ryujin in private with trembling hands and flushed cheeks, despite hearing “I love you” whispered sleepily against his neck at two in the morning, he still became unbearably shy under public attention.
So while Ryujin laughed easily and touched people comfortably and flirted for entertainment without thinking twice, Patji stood beside him stiffly smiling, terrified of doing the wrong thing.
And people noticed.
God, people always noticed.
The breaking point came during one particular variety show recording.
The cast had been chaotic from the very beginning, shouting over one another while competing in ridiculous games that barely followed any actual rules, and at some point Ohm had dramatically collapsed into Ryujin’s lap after losing one of the rounds, throwing his arms around Ryujin’s shoulders while whining loudly for sympathy.
Ryujin burst into laughter immediately, one hand instinctively supporting Ohm’s waist so he would not fall sideways off the chair.
The studio practically exploded.
The hosts screamed.
The actors clapped like wild seals.
Even Ohm himself was laughing uncontrollably.
Meanwhile Patji sat only two seats away feeling something cold and awful unfurl inside his chest.
Because the cameras caught everything.
Because Ryujin looked beautiful while laughing like that.
Because the audience loved it.
Because comments afterward became unbearable.
“RYUJIN’S CHEMISTRY WITH OHM?????”
“PATJI LOOKS SO AWKWARD NEXT TO HIM.”
“DO THEY EVEN ACTUALLY DATE?”
“RYUJIN LOOKS MORE ALIVE WITH EVERYONE ELSE.”
Patji stared at that last comment until the words blurred.
Then he locked his phone.
Then unlocked it again.
Then read more.
It became a disgusting habit after that, almost compulsive in the cruelest way possible, scrolling through comments that carved holes into him piece by piece while telling himself to stop after every single one.
And the worst part was that none of it made him angry at Ryujin.
It made him angry at himself.
Because maybe the fans were right.
Maybe he really was too stiff.
Too quiet.
Too difficult to read.
Maybe Ryujin looked happier with others because others knew how to match his energy properly while Patji stood there like a statue trying not to combust whenever Ryujin casually touched his waist in public.
The thoughts worsened slowly.
Poison spreading drop by drop.
During events Patji started paying painful attention to every interaction Ryujin had with others, every laugh, every playful touch, every lingering glance exaggerated by fan cameras and edited clips online afterward.
Meanwhile he became hyperaware of himself.
How awkward his hands looked.
How hesitant he seemed during fanservice.
How his smile always turned shy and small instead of bright and confident.
How Ryujin initiated nearly everything between them publicly.
One night after a long schedule, Patji stood in front of his bathroom mirror staring at himself with exhausted eyes while replaying clips from an event earlier that day.
Ryujin had looked stunning.
Effortless.
Radiant.
Patji looked nervous beside him.
Again.
His chest tightened painfully.
He whispered quietly to his reflection, voice rough with self-disgust, “Why can’t you just act normal around him?”
The silence afterward felt enormous.
Heavy.
Like standing underwater.
And what hurt most was that Ryujin still loved him exactly the same.
Maybe even more than before.
Ryujin still pulled him close whenever they were alone, still buried his face into Patji’s shoulder after exhausting rehearsals, still called him beautiful so casually it made Patji’s ears burn every single time, still looked at him with enough tenderness to melt entire cities.
But lately Patji had started pulling away without realizing it.
Tiny things at first.
Smaller smiles.
Less initiating.
More excuses about being tired.
And Ryujin noticed immediately.
Because Ryujin noticed everything about him.
One evening after filming ended particularly late, the two of them finally escaped into Ryujin’s car while rain hammered softly against the windows outside, turning the city lights into smeared rivers of gold and red beyond the glass.
The silence between them stretched strangely.
Not comfortable.
Not painful yet either.
Just… fragile.
Ryujin glanced sideways from the driver’s seat after several minutes, fingers tightening slightly around the steering wheel before he asked quietly, “Did I do something wrong recently?”
Patji’s heart stumbled instantly.
“What?”
“You’ve been distant,” Ryujin said softly, eyes still fixed ahead on the road, his voice lacking its usual playful warmth in a way that immediately made guilt twist violently through Patji’s stomach. “You barely look at me during schedules anymore, and whenever I touch you lately, you tense up like you want me to stop.”
Patji opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because how could he explain this without sounding pathetic?
How could he admit that fan comments were eating him alive?
How could he confess that every harmless interaction Ryujin had with others made jealousy crawl under his skin until he hated himself for feeling it?
Ryujin finally looked over at him fully when the silence dragged too long.
And the concern in his eyes almost shattered Patji completely.
“Pat,” Ryujin murmured quietly, “talk to me.”
Patji turned toward the rain-streaked window instead because suddenly looking at Ryujin hurt too much.
Outside, neon lights bled across the wet streets like fractured stars drowning in puddles.
Inside the car, his chest felt unbearably tight.
And for the first time since becoming official together, Patji genuinely wondered if loving Ryujin this much was eventually going to break him apart from the inside.
The night of the event arrived wrapped in gold light and luxury so dazzling it almost felt unreal, the kind of night where every polished surface reflected diamonds and camera flashes until the entire venue looked submerged beneath glittering water, and every actor under Domundi’s name seemed sculpted out of perfection itself as stylists hurried through hallways carrying garment bags and makeup palettes while managers barked schedules into phones with growing panic.
Patji had been awake since dawn.
Not because of rehearsals.
Not because of schedules.
Because he had spent nearly three hours staring at himself in the mirror before the makeup artists even arrived.
Three hours of changing shirts.
Three hours of comparing old event photos.
Three hours of reading comments he knew he should not have opened again.
“Ryujin needs someone softer beside him.”
“Patji is handsome but they don’t visually match.”
“He looks too intimidating next to Ryujin.”
“Imagine Ryujin with someone cute like Namping or Otto.”
“Kim and Ryujin would visually suit each other better honestly.”
The words had nested somewhere ugly beneath his ribs.
And tonight, for the first time in his life, Patji genuinely tried to become someone else.
“Can you make my makeup softer?” he asked quietly while sitting beneath the harsh vanity lights backstage, fingers nervously twisting together in his lap as the makeup artist blinked in slight confusion. “Maybe less sharp here,” he continued softly while pointing near his eyes, “and maybe make me look… prettier?”
The makeup artist smiled warmly without realizing how serious Patji was.
“You already are pretty.”
Normally that compliment would have made him laugh shyly.
Tonight it only made his throat tighten.
“No,” Patji whispered carefully, avoiding his own reflection in the mirror. “I mean softer.”
Gentler.
Smaller.
More lovable.
The transformation ended up subtle enough that most people would never notice intentionally, but Patji noticed every single difference immediately once the final touches were complete, because the makeup softened the angles of his face just enough to make him appear less intimidating beneath the lights, his lips slightly rosier, his eyes larger somehow, his entire appearance carrying a quieter vulnerability than usual.
And when he finally stepped out from the dressing room wearing the fitted black suit tailored perfectly against his frame, silver jewelry glinting beneath warm corridor lighting while strands of carefully styled hair brushed delicately against his forehead, the reactions were immediate.
“Oh my god.”
“Patji?”
“You look insane tonight.”
“Seriously, you look beautiful.”
The compliments came from everywhere all at once as actors passed him backstage, some genuinely stunned enough to stop walking completely.
Namping gasped dramatically while clutching his own chest and yelling loud enough for nearby staff to laugh.
“You literally look like the main character in a heartbreak movie,” Namping declared while circling him once with wide eyes. “What is this face? Why are you glowing like that?”
Kim immediately agreed while fixing Patji’s collar gently.
“No seriously,” Kim said softly, smiling warmly at him through the mirror reflections backstage, “you look really, really pretty tonight.”
Pretty.
That word again.
This time it landed somewhere fragile inside Patji’s chest.
Then came Otto.
Otto had always been one of the closest people to him in the company, someone naturally affectionate and emotionally perceptive in a way that made hiding feelings around him nearly impossible sometimes.
The moment Otto saw him, he froze completely mid-step.
Then his eyes widened.
Then he walked over immediately with genuine disbelief painted across his face.
“Pat,” Otto breathed out softly, almost stunned, “you look… wow.”
Patji laughed quietly from embarrassment, lowering his gaze instinctively while Otto continued staring at him with obvious sincerity.
“No, I’m serious,” Otto insisted while gently fixing one strand of hair near Patji’s forehead with almost brotherly tenderness. “You look unbelievably beautiful tonight.”
And for one tiny moment, warmth bloomed inside Patji’s chest.
Because maybe tonight would be different.
Maybe tonight Ryujin would look at him the way he used to in the beginning.
Maybe tonight Ryujin would see him.
The thought carried him through the next several minutes while actors gathered together before the red carpet entrance, the atmosphere buzzing chaotically with expensive perfume, laughter, clicking cameras, and endless chatter.
Couples stood together naturally.
Effortlessly.
Keng kept leaning down toward Namping while teasing him about checking his appearance every thirty seconds.
Tle had an arm securely wrapped around Firstone’s waist while listening to him ramble excitedly about something incomprehensible.
North and Otto stood pressed shoulder to shoulder while quietly laughing together.
Net absentmindedly adjusted JJ’s necklace.
Latte kept his hand resting comfortably against Kim’s lower back.
Copper and Fifa were already bickering playfully.
Zee stood behind Nunew with his arms loosely around his waist.
Max and Nat looked so naturally intertwined they barely seemed aware of the cameras anymore.
Tutor kept making Yim laugh hard enough to nearly ruin his lipstick.
And then there was Ryujin.
God.
Ryujin looked devastating tonight.
Black velvet suit.
Silver rings glimmering against elegant fingers.
Dark hair slightly tousled in that unfair effortless way only Ryujin could achieve.
He was standing near the center of the group laughing at something Firstone said, head tilted back slightly while cameras flashed endlessly around him like bursts of lightning.
Patji’s breath caught instantly.
Because even now, even after all the hurt festering quietly inside him, Ryujin still had the ability to make his entire chest ache with love so intense it frightened him.
Patji waited.
Surely Ryujin would look over eventually.
Surely he would say something.
Anything.
You look beautiful.
You look amazing.
Come here.
Mine.
Anything.
But Ryujin only smiled distractedly while speaking to staff members, then turned toward Kim briefly to compliment his accessories, then laughed again when Ohm made some stupid joke nearby.
Not once did he comment on Patji’s appearance.
The warmth inside Patji slowly began cooling into something hollow.
Maybe he looked ridiculous.
Maybe everyone else only complimented him because they were friends.
Maybe Ryujin noticed immediately that Patji was trying too hard tonight.
The thought made embarrassment crawl viciously beneath his skin.
Then the red carpet began.
The outside world exploded into chaos the second the doors opened.
Fans screamed behind barricades loud enough to shake the air itself while camera flashes burst relentlessly across the carpet in blinding waves of white light, reporters shouting names one after another as actors stepped forward in pairs beneath towering screens displaying Domundi’s logo.
Patji tried to stay composed.
Smile softly.
Stand elegantly.
Do everything properly.
Yet his attention kept drifting helplessly toward Ryujin beside him.
Toward the easy confidence in his posture.
Toward the way cameras adored him naturally.
Toward the way he laughed comfortably while interacting with everyone around him.
Then came the group photo.
All pairings gathered together beneath a massive backdrop glittering beneath chandelier lighting while photographers shouted instructions from every direction at once.
“Closer together!”
“Look here!”
“Arms around each other!”
“Couples pose!”
And immediately, naturally, everyone shifted toward their partners.
Back hugs.
Waist touches.
Hands against shoulders.
Comfortable intimacy blooming everywhere beneath the flashing lights.
Patji swallowed hard.
Then slowly, carefully, he lifted his hand toward Ryujin’s shoulder.
It was such a small movement.
Tiny.
Almost nothing.
But for Patji it felt enormous because public affection still terrified him despite everything, and this was him trying, genuinely trying, to become someone Ryujin could proudly stand beside without fans mocking their chemistry.
His fingers barely hovered inches away from Ryujin before it happened.
Ryujin shifted.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
A small unconscious step sideways while turning toward one of the photographers calling his name.
But the movement created distance instantly.
And Patji froze completely mid-air.
His hand remained suspended there for one horrible second before he lowered it slowly back to his side.
No one noticed.
Or at least no one reacted.
The photographers kept yelling directions.
Fans kept screaming.
Cameras kept flashing violently.
But inside Patji’s chest something cracked so quietly it almost felt gentle.
Like thin ice finally giving way beneath too much weight.
Because suddenly all the comments came rushing back at once.
Ryujin has more chemistry with everyone else.
They don’t even look close.
Patji looks awkward.
Ryujin needs someone softer.
Someone prettier.
Someone easier to love publicly.
Heat rushed behind Patji’s eyes instantly.
He wanted to disappear.
No.
Worse.
He wanted Ryujin to turn around immediately, pull him close, notice the hurt on his face, tell him it was accidental.
But Ryujin did not notice.
And maybe that hurt most of all.
So Patji smiled instead.
A perfect smile.
Bright enough for cameras.
Pretty enough for fans.
Convincing enough that nobody would ever know his heart was bleeding out quietly beneath the polished fabric of his suit.
Photographers praised them endlessly afterward.
Fans screamed their names.
Social media exploded with clips and edits within minutes.
And standing beneath all those flashing lights while laughter echoed around him like distant static, Patji suddenly felt lonelier beside Ryujin than he had ever felt alone.
Backstage after the event felt like the aftermath of a storm made entirely out of adrenaline and glitter.
Staff members hurried across corridors carrying clipboards and garment bags while actors collapsed dramatically onto couches with exhausted laughter spilling from every direction, the air thick with expensive perfume, sweat beneath stage makeup, and the dizzy electric high that always followed successful events of this scale.
Everyone was loud.
Everyone was glowing.
Managers congratulated actors one after another while phones buzzed endlessly with articles, trending hashtags, fan edits already flooding social media less than thirty minutes after the red carpet ended.
And in the middle of all that noise, Patji felt unbearably invisible.
The pairings slowly gathered together in one of the larger backstage rooms while stylists fixed last-minute touchups and staff handed out water bottles like survival rations after battle.
Someone yelled, “Group photo again!”
Immediately chaos erupted.
Firstone climbed halfway onto Tle’s back laughing hysterically.
Kim nearly spilled his drink because Latte kept poking his side repeatedly.
Namping and Keng argued dramatically over who looked better in the photos while everyone booed them affectionately.
Near the center of it all, Ryujin laughed so brightly it almost hurt to look at him.
And that was the problem.
He looked fine.
Perfectly fine.
As if nothing had happened.
As if Patji’s hand had not frozen mid-air beneath those camera flashes.
As if Patji had not spent the remainder of the event feeling like his ribs were splitting open from the inside every time another couple naturally leaned into one another beside them.
Ryujin smiled at jokes.
Ryujin talked easily with everyone.
Ryujin looked radiant beneath the warm backstage lighting while fixing the rings on his fingers absentmindedly between conversations.
And not once did he look toward Patji.
Not once.
It should not have hurt this much.
That thought kept repeating inside Patji’s head like a curse while he stood near the edge of the room clutching a water bottle he had not touched once.
Maybe Ryujin genuinely did not realize.
Maybe it had been accidental.
Maybe Patji was overreacting.
But then why did it feel like someone had reached directly into his chest and squeezed until breathing itself became painful?
“Everyone together!” someone shouted loudly.
Immediately the actors gathered closer in one chaotic cluster while staff members prepared phones and cameras.
Then came the chant.
The stupid celebratory Domundi chant they always screamed after successful events.
Everyone shouted it together loudly enough to shake the room with laughter following immediately afterward.
And Patji could not do it.
He could not stand there another second pretending he was okay while something inside him quietly crumbled apart.
So before anyone could notice, he stepped backward carefully.
Slowly.
Smoothly.
A practiced escape.
Years in the industry had taught him how to disappear gracefully.
Another laugh burst from the center of the room.
Ryujin’s laugh.
Patji felt his throat tighten violently.
Then he turned away completely and walked out.
The corridor outside felt colder immediately.
Quieter.
But not enough to stop the pressure building behind his eyes.
Patji kept walking quickly, his polished shoes echoing sharply against the floor while his breathing turned uneven beneath the suffocating tightness in his chest.
Don’t cry.
Not here.
Not now.
Please not now.
He barely made it inside the restroom before his composure shattered completely.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Silence.
Bright white lighting.
Cold marble counters reflecting back the image of someone he barely recognized anymore.
And then the first tear fell.
One single tear slipping silently from beneath his lashes before landing against the sleeve of his blazer.
That was all it took.
Suddenly his entire body folded inward like something collapsing under too much weight.
A broken sound escaped his throat before he could stop it.
Then another.
Then he was crying so hard he physically could not breathe properly anymore.
Patji stumbled toward the corner near the sinks before crouching down completely, arms wrapping desperately around his knees while sobs tore violently from his chest one after another, ugly and shaking and painfully raw in a way he never allowed himself to be around anyone.
Everything hurt.
God, everything hurt.
His chest.
His throat.
His pride.
His heart most of all.
Because maybe everyone was right.
Maybe he really did not suit Ryujin.
Maybe Ryujin deserved someone softer and easier and brighter, someone who knew how to naturally match his energy instead of shrinking under cameras like a coward every single time.
Someone cute like Namping.
Gentle like Otto.
Pretty like Kim.
Not Patji.
Never Patji.
Patji buried his face harder against his arms while sobs wracked through him uncontrollably.
“I’m trying,” he whispered brokenly to absolutely nobody, voice cracking apart beneath another wave of tears. “I’m trying so hard.”
But apparently it still was not enough.
The loneliness of that realization hollowed him out completely.
Because despite being officially loved by Ryujin, despite hearing affectionate words whispered privately in dark rooms and quiet mornings, lately Patji felt more emotionally abandoned than he ever had before becoming his partner.
And the worst part was that he hated himself for even feeling hurt.
Ryujin had done nothing truly wrong.
Nothing unforgivable.
Nothing malicious.
Yet somehow Patji still ended up here crying on a restroom floor while everyone else celebrated outside.
His shoulders shook violently beneath another sob.
Then suddenly the restroom door opened.
Patji froze instantly.
Panic shot through him so fast it made him dizzy.
He scrambled to his feet immediately before turning away toward the mirrors, wiping frantically at his face with trembling hands while trying desperately to steady his breathing.
Please.
Please let it be staff.
Please let them leave.
Soft footsteps echoed behind him.
Then came a careful voice.
“Patji?”
Otto.
Of course it was Otto.
Patji’s stomach dropped instantly.
He lowered his head further while rubbing aggressively at his eyes, praying the lighting hid enough of the damage.
“Yeah?” he croaked out weakly.
The single word sounded horrible.
Not even remotely normal.
Silence lingered behind him for a moment.
Then Otto spoke again, quieter this time.
“Are you okay?”
Patji swallowed painfully.
“Yeah.”
A lie so fragile it practically disintegrated mid-air.
Otto clearly did not believe him.
Patji heard the soft shift of fabric before gentle fingers settled carefully against his shoulder.
The contact made him stiffen immediately.
Not because he disliked it.
Because he was one wrong touch away from completely breaking apart again.
“Pat,” Otto said softly, concern thick in his voice now, “please look at me.”
Patji shut his eyes tightly.
He could feel tears threatening again already.
“No,” he whispered shakily. “I’m okay, seriously.”
“You’re crying.”
“I’m not.”
Another lie.
A pathetic one.
Otto’s hand squeezed his shoulder carefully.
“Patji.”
The tenderness in Otto’s voice nearly destroyed the last scraps of composure Patji had left.
He shook his head quickly while staring at the sink.
“Please just leave me alone.”
“No.”
Patji’s breath hitched slightly.
Otto rarely sounded firm.
But this time there was no hesitation whatsoever in his voice.
“I’m not leaving you here like this.”
Patji bit down hard against the inside of his cheek because he could already feel himself unraveling again.
“Otto, please,” he whispered desperately, voice trembling harder now. “Please don’t look at me right now.”
But Otto gently stepped closer anyway.
Then carefully, slowly, he turned Patji around.
The second their eyes met, Patji lost the battle completely.
Another sob broke violently from his chest.
His entire face crumpled apart in humiliation and grief as fresh tears spilled uncontrollably down his cheeks.
Otto looked devastated instantly.
“Hey, hey…” Otto murmured softly, panic and heartbreak mixing together in his expression the moment he saw how hard Patji was crying. “Baby, what happened?”
And before Patji could even attempt to apologize for falling apart like this, Otto pulled him into a hug immediately.
Warm.
Safe.
Instant.
Patji broke completely in his arms.
A shattered sound escaped him as he grabbed desperately onto Otto’s blazer with trembling fists, clinging to him like someone drowning reaching for air after being underwater too long.
Because God.
He had felt so unbearably untouched lately.
So unseen.
So emotionally starved despite constantly standing beside the person he loved most.
Otto wrapped both arms securely around him without hesitation while one hand moved gently against the back of his head.
“It’s okay,” Otto whispered softly, voice aching with concern. “Cry if you need to cry.”
And Patji did.
He sobbed against Otto’s shoulder so hard his knees nearly gave out again, tears soaking into expensive fabric while every ugly insecurity he had buried for weeks finally erupted all at once.
Otto kept holding him tighter each time another broken sound escaped his throat.
Finally, after several minutes of shaking sobs, Otto asked quietly once more, “Pat… what’s wrong?”
Patji’s fingers tightened helplessly against Otto’s blazer.
Then, through uneven breathing and tears that would not stop falling, he whispered the words that had been poisoning him from the inside for weeks.
“I’m such a failure.”
Otto kept holding him long after the worst of the sobbing subsided.
Not rushing him.
Not forcing answers out of him.
Just standing there beneath the cold restroom lighting with both arms wrapped securely around Patji while one hand moved slowly against his back in gentle repetitive motions, grounding him each time another shaky breath threatened to spiral back into crying again.
The warmth of it nearly hurt.
Because Patji had not realized how desperately he needed someone to hold him without expectations attached until this exact moment.
Outside the restroom, muffled laughter and distant celebration still echoed faintly through the walls.
Inside, it felt like the entire world had narrowed into grief and trembling hands and the unbearable ache lodged inside Patji’s chest.
Otto eventually pulled back only enough to look at him properly.
His expression immediately tightened with pain at the sight in front of him.
Patji’s makeup had started smudging slightly beneath swollen eyes, lashes still wet with tears while his breathing came unevenly, shoulders trembling occasionally from leftover emotion he could no longer fully suppress.
And somehow, heartbreakingly, he still looked beautiful.
Not polished-beautiful.
Not camera-beautiful.
Human beautiful.
The kind born from raw vulnerability.
“Talk to me,” Otto said quietly, voice soft enough to feel almost fragile. “Please.”
Patji lowered his gaze instantly.
Because now that the words were threatening to leave his mouth, he suddenly wanted to bury them again.
They sounded pathetic.
Embarrassing.
Small.
Otto waited patiently.
Finally Patji laughed weakly through the remnants of tears, though the sound carried absolutely no humor inside it.
“I think something’s wrong with me.”
Otto frowned immediately.
“Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true,” Patji whispered shakily, fingers tightening helplessly around Otto’s sleeves as if he needed something stable to hold onto while speaking. “I keep getting jealous over stupid things and I hate myself for it because Ryujin isn’t even doing anything wrong.”
Otto stayed silent.
Listening carefully.
Patji swallowed hard before continuing, voice trembling more with every word.
“He’s naturally affectionate with everyone,” he murmured quietly. “That’s just who he is. He jokes around, he touches people easily, he flirts without thinking because that’s his personality and everyone loves him for it.” His lips wavered painfully. “But every time fans compare us to someone else, every time they say he has more chemistry with other people, I start thinking maybe they’re right.”
Otto’s face softened instantly with heartbreak.
“Pat…”
“I know it sounds ridiculous,” Patji interrupted quickly, shame flooding his expression now. “I know it does. I sound possessive and insecure and ugly, and I hate it because I never wanted to become this type of person.”
Another tear slid down his cheek despite his obvious effort to stop crying.
“I see the comments,” he whispered brokenly. “All of them.”
Otto’s jaw tightened immediately.
Patji laughed again weakly.
“They say Ryujin needs someone softer beside him,” he continued quietly, words spilling faster now as if once the wound opened he could no longer stop the bleeding. “Someone prettier. Someone cute and easy to love publicly. Someone like Kim or Otto or Namping.” His breathing stuttered. “And then I stand next to him during events feeling like I’m built wrong somehow.”
Otto looked genuinely horrified.
“Patji, no.”
“I tried tonight,” Patji admitted softly, shame burning visibly across his face now. “That’s why I changed my makeup style. I just…” His voice cracked apart. “I wanted him to look at me.”
The confession shattered something inside the room.
Otto stared at him speechlessly for a moment.
Meanwhile outside the restroom door, hidden just beyond the slightly opened entrance after arriving moments earlier searching for Patji, Ryujin stopped breathing entirely.
Beside him, North slowly turned toward him with widening eyes.
Inside the restroom, neither Otto nor Patji noticed.
Patji kept speaking quietly, too consumed by grief to realize the world beyond his own heartbreak anymore.
“But he didn’t,” Patji whispered. “Everyone else complimented me except him.” Another painful laugh escaped him. “And then on the red carpet when I tried to touch him…” He stopped abruptly as fresh tears flooded his eyes again. “God, Otto, I felt so stupid.”
Outside the door, Ryujin physically flinched.
Like someone had struck him directly across the chest.
Because suddenly the memory replayed with horrifying clarity.
Patji’s hesitant movement toward him.
The tiny vulnerable gesture.
The way he unconsciously stepped aside while distracted by photographers shouting his name.
He remembered it now.
He remembered the exact moment.
And he remembered not noticing the devastation on Patji’s face afterward because he genuinely thought Patji had withdrawn first.
God.
God.
A sick nauseating guilt began twisting violently through Ryujin’s stomach.
Inside the restroom, Otto gently wiped another tear from Patji’s cheek.
“Listen to me carefully,” Otto said firmly now, voice stronger despite the ache in it. “None of those comments are true.”
Patji shook his head immediately.
“But what if they are?”
“They’re not.”
“What if Ryujin really would look happier with someone else?”
“Patji.”
The sharpness in Otto’s tone finally forced Patji to look at him.
Otto’s eyes looked almost angry now.
Not at him.
At the pain eating him alive.
“Do you know how Ryujin talks about you when you’re not around?” Otto asked quietly.
Patji froze slightly.
Otto continued before he could respond.
“That man is disgustingly in love with you,” he said with complete certainty. “Half the company is tired of hearing about how cute you are when you’re sleepy, or how pretty you look when you’re focused, or how your laugh is his favorite sound in the world.”
Outside the door, Ryujin shut his eyes briefly.
Because every word was true.
Every single one.
Otto stepped closer again, both hands now resting carefully on Patji’s shoulders.
“You are not hard to love,” Otto said softly but firmly. “You are not ugly for feeling jealous. You are not failing him. You’re just hurting quietly because you love someone deeply and you’re scared of losing them.”
Patji’s lips trembled violently.
Then finally, barely above a whisper, the truth slipped out.
“I think I’m too in love with him.”
Silence followed immediately afterward.
Heavy.
Achingly raw.
Patji lowered his head again as tears slipped silently down his face.
“I love him so much it actually hurts sometimes,” he admitted shakily. “And lately I keep feeling like I’m watching him drift toward everyone except me.”
Outside the restroom, Ryujin felt something inside him cave in completely.
Because all this time he thought Patji needed distance.
He thought the stiffness, the hesitation, the pulling away lately meant Patji was becoming uncomfortable with public affection, overwhelmed by Ryujin’s intensity, maybe even regretting becoming official together in the first place.
So Ryujin tried giving him space.
Tried easing back.
Tried not to overwhelm him.
And instead he accidentally abandoned him emotionally so badly that Patji ended up crying in a restroom believing he was unlovable.
The realization hit with enough force to make Ryujin feel physically sick.
Beside him, North glanced toward the restroom door before leaning closer carefully.
His voice dropped almost to a whisper.
“You need to fix this now.”
Ryujin still could not move.
Inside the restroom Patji buried his face into his hands again while whispering shakily, “I feel pathetic.”
“You’re not pathetic.”
“I am,” Patji insisted brokenly. “I’m jealous of harmless interactions. I overthink everything. I cry over comments from strangers online. What kind of partner does that make me?”
“The kind that’s terrified because he cares too much,” Otto replied immediately.
Patji shook his head weakly.
“No,” he whispered. “The kind Ryujin deserves wouldn’t make everything difficult.”
That sentence nearly shattered Ryujin completely.
North looked at him seriously now.
“React on time,” he murmured carefully. “Or one day he’s genuinely going to believe he’s better off letting you go.”
And suddenly Ryujin realized with horrifying clarity that Patji was already halfway there.
The mini-event venue looked like something built out of longing.
Soft golden lights draped across the small stage like fallen stars while pale roses and white ribbons curled around the edges of banners displaying RyujinPatji’s name in elegant lettering, the atmosphere far more intimate than the loud glamorous chaos of their usual schedules, because this event was meant specifically for their fans, for the people who had supported them from the beginning before official announcements and polished branding and carefully planned public appearances.
It should have made Patji happy.
Instead, it made his heart ache so badly he thought he might genuinely break apart before the event even started.
Because all he could think while standing backstage adjusting trembling fingers against the cuffs of his outfit was that this would be the last time.
The last event.
The last smiles.
The last time he would officially stand beside Ryujin as his partner before quietly stepping away.
He had already decided.
After tonight, he would go to the Domundi headquarters and ask to pull back from the pairing.
Not because he stopped loving Ryujin.
God.
If anything, the problem was that he loved him far too much.
Enough to destroy himself slowly trying to become someone worthy of standing beside him.
Enough to finally let him go if that meant Ryujin could eventually find someone brighter and softer and easier to love publicly.
The thought alone nearly made Patji nauseous.
But he convinced himself it was the right thing.
Because love should not feel like constant fear.
And Ryujin deserved freedom from constantly carrying someone so insecure.
“Pat.”
The voice startled him out of spiraling thoughts instantly.
Patji looked up.
And immediately forgot how to breathe.
Ryujin stood a few feet away already dressed for the event, soft cream-colored suit fitting perfectly against his frame beneath warm backstage lighting while delicate silver jewelry glimmered faintly near his throat and wrists.
Beautiful.
Painfully beautiful.
But what shattered Patji most was the expression on Ryujin’s face.
Soft.
Tender.
Focused entirely on him.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Ryujin smiled gently.
“You look nervous.”
Patji forced a small laugh.
“I always am.”
Ryujin stepped closer.
Closer.
Then suddenly his hands settled carefully against Patji’s waist.
Patji froze completely.
Because Ryujin had not touched him like this publicly in weeks.
Warmth flooded through him so suddenly it physically hurt.
Ryujin tilted his head slightly while studying his face with quiet concern.
“Relax,” he murmured softly enough that only Patji could hear. “I’m here.”
The words nearly destroyed him on the spot.
Because how was he supposed to let go of someone who still looked at him like that?
The event began moments later beneath loud cheers from fans filling the smaller venue with overwhelming warmth and excitement.
And somehow, despite everything weighing on his chest, Patji slowly started smiling for real again.
Not fake smiles crafted carefully for cameras.
Real ones.
The kind that slipped out accidentally.
Mini games turned chaotic almost immediately because Ryujin kept deliberately teasing him every chance he got, grinning victoriously each time Patji became visibly flustered beneath fan screams.
At one point they were forced to stare into each other’s eyes during some ridiculous challenge while fans counted dramatically in the background.
Patji barely survived twenty seconds before laughing nervously and hiding his face.
Ryujin looked absolutely delighted by that reaction.
“You’re too cute,” he said casually into the microphone.
The venue erupted.
Patji nearly combusted alive.
Then came question segments.
Fans asked about favorite habits.
Favorite moments together.
Things they appreciated most about one another.
And every single answer Ryujin gave sounded unbearably sincere.
“My favorite thing about Patji?” Ryujin repeated thoughtfully at one point before smiling softly toward him. “Probably how gentle he is even when nobody notices.”
Patji’s chest tightened painfully.
Another question followed.
“What’s something RyujinPatji fans don’t know about your relationship?”
Ryujin glanced sideways toward Patji again before answering quietly, “Patji takes care of people so quietly that sometimes they don’t even realize they’re being loved until afterward.”
Patji stopped breathing for a second.
Because lately he genuinely thought Ryujin no longer saw him at all.
And yet here he was describing him like something precious.
The event continued.
Laughter.
Games.
Shared glances.
Hands brushing accidentally then lingering intentionally.
At some point Ryujin’s hand returned to Patji’s waist again while listening to fans speak, entirely natural this time, thumb absentmindedly rubbing softly against fabric near his side.
Patji wanted to memorize every second.
Because it was ending soon.
The realization sat heavy beneath every smile.
Eventually staff members began signaling subtly that the event was nearing its conclusion.
Fans started whining dramatically already.
Patji swallowed hard.
This was it.
One final goodbye.
He reached automatically for his microphone to thank everyone for supporting them through the years.
But before he could speak, Ryujin suddenly stood.
The movement startled everyone slightly.
Ryujin lifted his microphone slowly.
Then quietly said, “Can I ask everyone to listen carefully for a moment?”
The room softened instantly into silence.
Patji blinked in confusion.
Then Ryujin turned toward him completely.
Not the fans.
Not the cameras.
Only him.
And suddenly Patji’s pulse started hammering violently beneath his ribs.
Because the expression on Ryujin’s face looked terrifyingly emotional.
Ryujin inhaled slowly before speaking.
“I think there’s something important I haven’t said properly in a long time.”
The room became so quiet even breathing sounded loud.
Patji stared at him helplessly.
Ryujin’s eyes never left his.
“When people first paired us together officially,” Ryujin said softly, voice steadier than the emotion visible inside his eyes, “everyone kept telling me how lucky I was.”
A nervous laugh rippled softly through the audience.
Ryujin smiled faintly.
“But I don’t think anyone understands just how lucky.”
Patji felt his throat tighten instantly.
Ryujin continued quietly.
“I’ve met countless people through this industry. Amazing people. Beautiful people. Talented people.” His gaze softened impossibly further while looking at Patji. “But nobody has ever made me feel as safe, cared for, understood, or loved as him.”
Patji’s vision blurred immediately.
Fans were already crying.
Ryujin stepped closer slowly.
“I know lately I haven’t been good enough at showing him how important he is to me,” he admitted softly, voice beginning to crack slightly now. “And that’s my fault.”
Patji’s breath caught sharply.
Ryujin smiled sadly.
“But if there’s one thing I need everyone here to understand tonight…”
His eyes glistened visibly beneath stage lights now.
Then finally he whispered:
“There is nobody else I could ever want beside me except Patji.”
Patji teared up instantly.
No control.
No stopping it.
Just sudden overwhelming emotion crashing directly through him all at once while the venue exploded into deafening screams around them.
Ryujin looked at him gently through all the noise.
And somehow that look alone said everything.
The event ended chaotically afterward because fans were crying, staff members were emotional, and Patji genuinely could not speak properly anymore without his voice shaking.
But underneath all that emotion still lingered fear.
Because public words were beautiful.
Yet Patji still carried weeks of hurt inside him.
So after the event ended and they finally entered the quieter hallway leading deeper into the building, Patji lowered his head and kept walking silently.
Until fingers suddenly wrapped carefully around his wrist.
Patji stopped instantly.
Ryujin gently pulled him away from the main corridor toward a quieter side hallway dimly lit by warm overhead lights, distant noise from staff and fans fading into muffled echoes far away.
The moment they were finally alone, silence wrapped around them tightly.
Patji’s heart pounded painfully.
Ryujin stared at him for several seconds before speaking quietly.
“I know.”
Patji blinked.
“What?”
Ryujin swallowed once.
“I know how you’ve been feeling.”
Patji immediately shook his head.
“No, Ryujin, it’s okay, you didn’t do anyth—”
“I hurt you.”
The interruption came softly.
Firmly.
Patji froze.
Ryujin stepped closer slowly.
“I didn’t realize what was happening because I thought you needed space from me,” he admitted quietly, guilt visibly written across his expression now. “I thought I was overwhelming you lately, so I pulled back a little.” His voice cracked faintly. “And instead I made you feel alone.”
Patji’s eyes burned again immediately.
“You don’t understand,” he whispered shakily. “I’m just insecure and jealous and—”
Ryujin moved suddenly.
One hand slid firmly around Patji’s waist before pulling him closer until barely inches remained between them.
Patji inhaled sharply.
Ryujin looked directly into his eyes.
“Listen to me carefully,” he murmured softly.
The intensity in his voice made Patji completely still.
“There is nothing in this world more precious to me than you.”
Patji’s breath trembled instantly.
Ryujin’s thumb brushed gently against his waist.
“I don’t want softer,” he whispered. “I don’t want easier. I don’t want anyone else laughing beside me or standing beside me or loving me beside me.” His eyes glistened again. “I want you.”
Patji silently started crying.
Not violently this time.
Just quiet tears slipping helplessly down his cheeks.
Ryujin smiled sadly at the sight before carefully brushing them away.
“You know what I see when I look at you?” he asked softly. “I see the person who remembers when I’m tired before I even say anything. The person who quietly takes care of everyone around him without asking for attention back. The person I search for first in every room without even thinking anymore.” His voice lowered further. “I see home.”
Patji broke.
A small wounded sound escaped him before Ryujin immediately pulled him into a tight embrace.
Warm.
Secure.
Desperate.
Patji buried his face into Ryujin’s shoulder instantly while clutching tightly onto the back of his suit as if terrified he might disappear.
Ryujin held him even tighter.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against Patji’s hair. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
Patji shook his head weakly against him.
Ryujin chuckled softly then, emotional and breathless all at once.
“You really thought I’d ever want freedom from you?” he murmured gently. “That’s actually insane.”
Patji let out the smallest watery laugh.
Finally they pulled apart slightly.
Just enough to look at each other.
Patji’s cheeks were wet.
Ryujin looked emotional too.
Then suddenly Ryujin leaned forward and kissed him.
Patji froze completely in shock for half a second before melting instantly beneath the warmth of it.
The kiss started soft.
Tender.
Careful.
Then Ryujin’s hand tightened slightly against his waist as something more desperate slipped through.
Weeks of fear.
Miscommunication.
Longing.
Relief.
The kiss deepened shakily as if Ryujin was trying to pour every unsaid feeling directly into Patji’s mouth before he could ever doubt himself again.
Patji’s fingers curled tightly into Ryujin’s suit while kissing him back with equal desperation now, tears still clinging faintly to his lashes as all the ache inside him finally began unraveling into something warm instead of painful.
Ryujin kissed him like someone terrified of losing him.
And Patji kissed him like someone finally realizing he had been loved all along.
Outside the hallway, the world remained loud and chaotic and glittering.
But inside that quiet hidden corner, wrapped safely in Ryujin’s arms with his heartbeat finally steady again, Patji felt something inside him heal softly back together.