Chapter 3 #2
I'd forgotten what it felt like to want something as badly as I wanted Rune. It terrified me.
The briefing was at 8:00 AM.
I arrived at 7:58 with coffee and three hours of fractured sleep. I remembered Rune saying his real name. The way he'd looked at me. The admission that he'd counted too.
Kang's suite was a command center. Laptop open, footage queued. Do-hyun by the window with his tablet. Soo-jin in the far chair, immaculate despite the early hour.
Rune arrived last with Soyeon. Black jeans, a hoodie, hair styled, and makeup applied. Performance costume rebuilt. He looked nothing like the exhausted man from six hours ago.
Our eyes met. His gaze held mine for three seconds before sliding away.
"Sit," Kang said.
Rune took the couch. I positioned myself where I could see everyone.
Kang turned his laptop to face us. "The threatening messages targeting Rune stopped three days ago, six hours before Griffin joined."
Soo-jin leaned forward. "That suggests his arrival had an impact."
"Or," I said, "whoever sent them achieved their aim and changed tactics."
Kang nodded. "The silence isn't likely a resolution. It's repositioning to the breaches of physical access. Four incidents in three days. Expired credential. A photographer outside designated areas. Last night, someone accessed Rune's hotel room."
Soo-jin's expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. Brief calculation. "Was anything taken?"
"No," Rune said quietly. "But someone sat on my bed."
"Did Griffin find evidence of forced entry?"
"Likely a cloned keycard," I said.
"And we've eliminated mundane explanations? Housekeeping?"
"At eleven-thirty PM without turning down the bed?" I kept my voice level. "With the door left ajar?"
Soo-jin nodded slowly. "I'm ensuring we've eliminated alternatives before escalating."
"This is a threat assessment," Kang said flatly. "Someone is testing how close they can get."
Do-hyun spoke. "I've been tracking credential and access patterns independently." He looked at Kang, then at me. Not at Soo-jin. "The timing follows a specific pattern. I can brief you both later."
Soo-jin set his phone down deliberately. "Is there a reason I'm not included?"
"You're managing tour logistics," Do-hyun said evenly. "This is granular security analysis."
The deflection was smooth and intentional.
"Griffin," Kang said, "you're staying on Rune's detail. Enhanced proximity. If he reports anything, you respond immediately."
"Understood."
Soo-jin adjusted his position. His voice remained measured. "I'm not opposing Griffin's presence. I'm asking whether concentrating specialized resources on one member creates vulnerability for others."
"Jinwoo has coverage," Kang said. "As do Taemin and Minjae."
"But Griffin is a specialist. Having him focused entirely on Rune suggests Rune is the primary target." Soo-jin paused. "Do we have confirmation?"
"That's my assessment," I said. "He is the focus of the patterns," I said.
"Why?" Soo-jin's gaze moved to Rune. Something shifted in his expression—concern layered over something harder. "What makes Rune specifically vulnerable?"
Silence.
Rune's breathing changed. His hands curled.
"Fame makes everyone vulnerable," Kang said. "We address behavior, not motive."
Soo-jin nodded. Looked at his hands. When he looked up, his expression was carefully neutral.
"I'm thinking about sustainability. High-pressure tours are exhausting.
Adding constant security concerns, feeling perpetually watched, navigating complex interpersonal dynamics when boundaries might be. .." He paused. "Unclear."
The pause was surgical.
My pulse spiked.
"We've all seen situations where proximity breeds attachment.
Where professional distance becomes difficult under sustained pressure.
" He looked at me. "I'm not suggesting that's happening.
I'm noting that intense focus—particularly from security personnel who may become invested in their principals—can create complications affecting the entire group. "
Rune's knuckles went white.
"Griffin has maintained appropriate standards," Kang said, with an edge in his voice.
"I'm sure." Soo-jin smiled slightly. "I'm thinking about Rune's well-being. The pressure of being singled out. Of feeling responsible if something distracts from the tour's success."
The implication was clear: if complications arose, Soo-jin would blame Rune.
Do-hyun cleared his throat. "Rune's been professional throughout. So has Griffin. I've observed their interactions. No evidence of complications."
Soo-jin's gaze snapped to Do-hyun. For half a second, something cold flashed. Then it smoothed away.
"Of course," Soo-jin said. "I'm simply managing risk. Protecting the group's image. Ensuring our focus stays on what matters."
"Noted," Kang said. "Griffin stays. Enhanced protocols. Briefing again tomorrow."
Soo-jin left without hurry. Do-hyun lingered, typing on his tablet. When Soo-jin was gone, he looked at Kang. "I'll send you both the access data by noon."
He left.
Rune stood. Looked at me with an unreadable expression, then left with Soyeon.
Kang waited.
"He knows," he whispered. "That you're attracted to Rune. That Rune trusts you specifically. Soo-jin doesn't accuse. He implies. Plants seeds. Waits for them to grow into problems he can solve."
"I haven't crossed lines."
"I know, but you're close. And close is visible." He looked into my eyes. "Be careful. Whatever this is, it's showing. And someone is watching for it."
Rehearsal was at 2:00 PM.
I arrived early and walked the venue again. Checked corridors and wings.
My mind circled back to last night. Rune saying his real name like something forbidden. The six inches that felt impossible to cross. The admission he'd counted.
At 1:45, the band arrived.
Jinwoo was steady. Taemin bright. Minjae anxious. Rune last, hoodie up, shoulders curved.
He saw me immediately. His posture opened and straightened.
I nodded.
He nodded back.
They took the stage. The music started with uptempo, complex choreography. Half-speed and calling counts.
I tracked exits and approach positions.
I also watched Rune.
Absolute precision. Exhaustion making him ethereal, barely there, all control. Eyes closing during phrases, something genuine surfacing before the performance reclaimed him.
Halfway through the second song, he stumbled.
Nothing dramatic. His left foot slipped on a pivot. He caught himself and continued.
I watched him compensating afterwards. Weight shifted right. Protecting the left ankle.
When they broke, I crossed the stage. Something flickered across his face, awareness and desire.
"Can I talk to you?"
"Of course."
"You're hurt."
"It's fine."
"You're compensating. That makes you vulnerable. Sit down."
He hesitated. Then sat on an equipment case.
I crouched. Eye-level. Close. "May I?"
His breath caught audibly. "Yes."
I unlaced his sneaker carefully. Removed it and the sock. Ankle slightly swollen, old injury from chronic stress.
I wrapped my fingers around his ankle. Skin warm. The pulse beneath my thumb was rapid and strong.
Heat shot through my entire body. Immediate. Visceral. My awareness narrowed to where my skin met his.
I wanted to slide my hands higher. Know what reactions I could pull from him.
"How long?" Voice rough.
"A few weeks."
"You need support. Wait here."
I found the medic. Got compression tape and pre-wrap.
He sat exactly where I'd left him. Waiting. Trusting.
I knelt. "This will be tight. Tell me if it's too much."
"Okay."
Pre-wrap first, and then compression tape, a figure-eight pattern, maintaining stability.
His calf trembled, and his breathing shifted, sightly uneven.
I became hyperaware of every contact point. The warmth. The smoothness. His body responded with tells he couldn't control.
My body reacted too. Pulse elevated. Skin extra-sensitive. Tightness low in my stomach.
I forced focus. Finished the wrap. Released him before I could do something we'd regret.
"How does that feel?"
"Better. Secure."
"Stand."
He tested the weight. It was an immediate improvement.
"Thank you."
Our eyes met. His pulse was visible at his throat. Pupils dilated. Both of us restraining ourselves.
"If you're hurt, you're vulnerable," I said. "Take care of yourself."
"I will."
I stood and created distance. "Get back to rehearsal."
When he turned, the limp was gone.
My hands were still warm from his skin.
"Very thorough."
Taemin stood nearby, amused.
"He was hurt. Tactical vulnerability."
"Mm-hmm. Very tactical. The way you were looking at him, extremely tactical."
"Taemin—"
"I'm not judging. Someone should look at him like he matters instead of like equipment." He tilted his head. "But I'm watching. If you hurt him, I'll make your life extremely difficult."
"Noted."
"Good." He started away and paused. "Also? He looks at you the same way."
He left.
I stood alone, watching Rune move with renewed stability.
My hands remembered his warmth. The tremor. How his breath changed.
Someone who knew how to exploit gaps was watching us.
I had to figure out who before they used my attraction against both of us.