Chapter 5 #2
"I believe that's what the logs will show." Kang set his jaw. "But the surge would've tripped the house breakers first. The grid went dark before the safeties kicked in and—" He stopped. "That's not how they wired the building."
Something cold settled under my ribs. "Meaning?"
"Meaning someone bypassed the fail-over sequence." Kang looked at me. "Or told the system to hesitate."
"Can I see the booth?"
"Technical director said no. Union rules. Liability." Kang shifted his weight. "He also said the operator tonight differed from the previously scheduled tech. Last-minute replacement. Someone called in sick."
"Do we know who the replacement was?"
"Venue staff. Credentials checked. He's worked in this building before." Kang's tone suggested he didn't like it any more than I did. "Everything appears legitimate."
"Appears."
"Yes."
I spoke after a moment of silence. "I want access to the booth before tomorrow's show."
"I'll arrange it." Kang glanced past me toward the dressing area. "You should know, management is asking questions."
"What questions?"
"About enhanced protocols. About whether the increased security presence is necessary. They specifically mentioned you."
"Who's asking?"
"Soo-jin. Senior management. He wants to speak with you."
I thought about Soo-jin standing in the wings. Watching. Tracking Rune's position with the same attention I gave it.
"He's here now," Kang said. "Coming this way."
Soo-jin emerged from the corridor, moving with his characteristic precision. He looked exactly as he had in the wings—perfectly composed and immaculately dressed. His expression was pleasant. Controlled.
"Griffin." He offered a slight bow. "A moment?"
Kang excused himself smoothly, leaving us alone in the corridor.
Soo-jin smiled. "The show went well. The lighting issue was unfortunate, but the recovery was professional."
"It was."
"The band handled it perfectly. They're very experienced with technical difficulties." He swiped something on his tablet. "I understand you've been consulting with Kang about the security enhancements."
"Yes."
"The threats against Rune have quieted down. This is a positive development."
"Or concerning one."
He looked directly at me. "Concerning?"
"Silence can mean de-escalation, or it can mean someone's advancing from a planning stage to action."
"You think the lighting malfunction was intentional?"
"I think it's worth investigating."
"Kang is investigating. The technical director is investigating. The venue's insurance will investigate." Soo-jin's smile remained in place. "Many people are handling this. Your role is complete for tonight, yes?"
The phrasing was careful. Polite. The message was obvious.
You can leave now.
"My role is complete when the principals are secure in their hotel," I said. "That hasn't happened yet."
"The band is in the dressing area. Kang's team is managing the transport. He has everything contained." He tilted his head slightly. "Unless you have specific security concerns that require your presence?"
I had several. I didn't trust the lighting malfunction explanation or the convenient operator replacement. The timing of the threats ending right before technical systems started failing was suspicious. Most of all, I didn't trust Soo-jin's focused attention on Rune.
Saying any of that would sound like paranoia. Overreaction. It was the instinct-over-procedure thinking that had ended my career the first time.
"Professional thoroughness," I said finally.
Soo-jin's expression didn't change. "I appreciate your dedication. However, the band needs space to decompress after performing. Too much security presence can be... intrusive. Suffocating."
"I'm not in the dressing room."
"No, but you are still here. We contracted The Guardians for threat assessment and supplemental protection. The immediate threat tonight is over. Kang's team has transport secured. Perhaps your time would be better spent preparing for tomorrow's show?"
It was a professional suggestion. Completely reasonable. It was also a dismissal.
I considered pushing back, citing the scope of my contract. "I'll clear out once Kang confirms transport," I said.
"Of course." Soo-jin's smile widened slightly while his eyes remained cold. "Professional thoroughness. I understand completely."
He walked away, footsteps precise on the concrete floor. Soo-jin was watching, and he wanted me to know. I walked back toward the preparation area.
Most of the post-show chaos had cleared. Handlers had dispersed. The corridor was quieter, with voices coming from the dressing rooms in muffled bursts.
Taemin emerged wearing street clothes, hair still damp from a quick shower. He saw me and grinned.
"Griffin. You're still here."
"Making sure everything's secure."
"Mm. Secure." He moved closer and lowered his voice. "That lighting thing was scary. Rune tried to hide it, but he tensed when everything went black."
"You joined him immediately."
"Of course. He was alone." Something showed beneath Taemin's playfulness. "We protect each other. Have done that since way before you. Before Kang. Since our debut."
"I should go," I said.
"Or should you stay?"
Before I could answer, Minjae appeared in the doorway behind Taemin. "Are you bothering Griffin again?"
"Always. It's my job."
Minjae rolled his eyes, but his expression was fond. He looked at me. "The lighting thing tonight, will it happen again tomorrow?"
"Not if I can prevent it."
"Good. Rune says it was only a technical failure, but I think it was wrong."
"It was wrong."
"That's what I thought." He glanced back toward the dressing room. "He's still in there. Alone. He always takes longer to come down after shows."
Taemin caught Minjae's arm. "Come on. Let's give Griffin space to be thorough."
They walked away together, while Taemin said something in Korean that made Minjae laugh.
I walked toward the dressing room. The door was ajar. I knocked. "Rune?"
"Come in."
I pushed the door open. The room was small. A couch against one wall. Makeup counter and mirror. Wardrobe rack.
Rune sat on the couch, head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed. He'd changed out of the performance clothes into joggers and a t-shirt. Sweat still gleamed on his temples despite having taken a shower.
He appeared devastated. Wrung out. Beautiful.
"You're still here," he said without opening his eyes.
"Confirming security before transport."
I closed the door behind me. Rune opened his eyes and looked at me.
"That song," I said. "The solo, mid-set."
"What about it?"
"Nineteen thousand people, and you made every single one of them think you were singing to them alone."
"That's the job."
"No. The job is to convince them. You were confessing."
Rune's breathing changed, faster and shallower.
"Who were you singing to?" It was a personal question I probably should have kept to myself.
He stared at me. "You know who."
I swallowed hard. "Rune—"
He corrected me. "Yoon-jae. When it's only us, call me Yoon-jae."
I'd suddenly crossed a threshold I didn't know existed. "Yoon-jae," I said.
"Say it again."
"Yoon-jae."
He moved one step closer. "I can't stop thinking about last night and falling asleep against you. About how safe I felt and the wanting when I woke up."
"Wanting what?"
"To turn around and kiss you. To see if you'd let me."
My hands clenched at my sides. "I would have stopped you."
"I know. That's why I didn't try." His gaze dropped to my mouth. "Still, you wanted it too. You were watching me. You stopped breathing when I moved."
I couldn't lie. Not to him or myself.
"I want it," I said. The confession was like stepping off a cliff. "I want you. But—"
"But you're supposed to protect me."
"Yes."
"And you think wanting me makes that impossible."
"It makes it complicated."
"Everything about my life is complicated." He moved an inch closer. "Wanting you is the only simple thing I've known in years."
His honesty momentarily took my breath away.
"This is a mistake," I said.
"I know."
"There would be consequences."
"I know that, too." He reached up and touched my jaw with his long fingers. Tentative. Testing. "Tell me to stop."
I couldn't. His other hand joined the first, framing my face. The touch was careful, almost reverent.
"Griffin, please."
I didn't consciously decide. My body decided for me. I closed the distance between us.
The kiss was nothing like I'd imagined. Not soft or tentative.
It was desperate. Rune's mouth opened under mine immediately. I reached for his waist, pulling him closer. He gasped lightly and pressed against me.
My back hit the door. I didn't remember having moved. His fingers threaded through my hair, curling into a fist, holding me there.
I kissed him harder.
He responded instantly, a combination of heat, need, and perfect synchronization. I slipped my hands under his shirt and found bare skin. He arched into my touch, releasing a low moan from deep in his throat.
"Griffin, we can't—"
"I know."
"Someone could—"
"Yes."
His lips moved to my jaw and then to my neck. He found the pulse point and pressed harder, confirming that I was alive.
It was all a mistake. An inevitable one.
A series of sounds echoed in the corridor outside, footsteps and voices.
We froze.
Rune's forehead dropped to my shoulder. His breath came in ragged bursts. My heart hammered against my ribs.
"We have to stop," he whispered.
"Yes."
"If someone finds us—"
"They can't."
Rune bit his lip. "It's not just my career. It's yours. It's—"
He lifted his head. Our faces were inches apart. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated.
"I don't want to stop," he said.
"Neither do I."
"But we have to."
He kissed me again, slower this time. When he pulled back, his hands were shaking.
"You need to leave," he said. "Before I ask you to stay."
I forced myself to step back, tearing the thread of our connection. He watched me with an expression I couldn't read.
"Tomorrow, we can't—this can't happen again. Not like this. Not where someone could—"
I stared into his eyes. "It's impossible."
"I'm not sorry that it happened."
"Neither am I."
"You should go."
I opened the door. Checked the corridor. It was empty. I looked back at him one last time.
He had disheveled hair and swollen lips, while he gazed intently at me.
"Yoon-jae—"
"Don't." His voice was gentle. "If you say something kind right now, I won't let you leave."
I left and stopped in an empty service corridor halfway to the loading bay. Leaning against the wall, I fought to steady my breath.
My shirt tail hung out of my jeans. My pulse still raced, and I could taste him on my lips.
I tucked my shirt in, straightened the collar, and smoothed the fabric, rebuilding my professional mask. By the time I found Kang coordinating final security checks near the transport vehicles, I'd composed myself.
"Everything clear?" he asked.
"Clear."
"The band is ready to move in ten minutes," he said. "You're done for the night."
"Confirmed."
I walked to the exit. Pushing through the loading bay door into Vancouver's night air, I knew with absolute certainty that everything had just changed.