Chapter 63
The silence of the luxury suite in Milan had been replaced by the hum of the Incheon International Airport arrival terminal, but for Haru, the transition felt less like a homecoming and more like a crash landing. The flight back had been a blur of altitude-induced headaches and the lingering scent of Raiven's cedarwood cologne on his hoodie.
Before he had even boarded, his phone had vibrated - a call from Jae-wook. The idol's voice had been a low, grounding rumble, informing Haru that the Re-Draft private jet had touched down at their next tour stop.
"I'm here," Raiven had whispered, the background noise of a busy tarmac muffling his words. "Stay safe. Text me the second you land."
That short, three-minute conversation had been the only thing keeping Haru's heart from sinking as he watched Italy disappear beneath the clouds.
By the time Haru finally dragged his suitcase through his front door in Seoul, he was beyond exhausted. The adrenaline that had fueled him had evaporated, leaving his muscles heavy and his mind foggy. The apartment was eerily quiet. Se-hee was gone. She had sent a flurry of excited texts about a "rural immersion" content trip, documenting the traditional methods of rice farming. He admired her grit , she was probably knee-deep in a paddy field somewhere, chasing her own creative dreams.
Haru didn't even bother unpacking. He stripped off his travel clothes, tumbled into bed, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted nearly six hours.
When he finally woke, the Seoul sun was casting long, familiar shadows across his floor. He felt a strange disjointed feeling of being physically in one country while your soul is still lingering in a hotel suite thousands of miles away. He ordered a bowl of spicy noodles, needing the heat to wake up his senses. As he sat at his small table, his phone chimed.
A text from Raiven.
Haru didn't text back; he hit the video call button immediately. He needed to see him.
The screen flickered to life. Raiven was lying in bed, his dark blue hair messy against the white pillows, his eyes half-lidded and dreamy. The time difference was a cruel mistress; while Haru was starting his day, Raiven was winding down from a grueling rehearsal at a massive stadium.
"Heyy…" Raiven's voice was a sleepy purr, thick with the exhaustion of the world tour.
"Hey," Haru said softly, a smile tugging at his lips despite his own tiredness. He took a slow bite of his noodles, the steam fogging up the camera lens for a second. "Did I wake you? I can call back."
"You can wake me at any time," Raiven murmured, a small, lopsided grin forming on his face.
Haru winced, his face contorting into a playful, teasing cringe. "Ugh, stop. I didn't know you were so cheesy."
Raiven let out a tired, genuine chuckle, the sound vibrating through the phone's speaker and making Haru's chest tighten with affection. They talked for a few minutes about nothing - the weather in Seoul, the quality of the hotel pillows in Raiven's current city - but then Haru's expression shifted. He set his chopsticks down, his tone turning serious.
"I wanted to ask you something," Haru began. "Since we're... officially dating now... I think I need to tell a few people. Specifically, my agent. Just in case of an emergency."
The screen went silent for a beat. Raiven's expression sharpened, the sleepiness receding as he considered the gravity of the request. He knew the industry better than anyone. Manager Kim already knew - he had practically been the one to open the door for Haru in Milan - but Haru was in a different position. He was a rising star in a precarious agency. He needed someone on his side in case of anything.
"Sure," Raiven said finally, his voice steady. "I think that's okay. I trust your judgment, Haru."
Haru smiled, a genuine sense of relief loosening the knot in his chest. He took another slurp of his noodles, and they continued talking for another half hour- meaningless, sweet chatter that bridged the thousands of miles between them. Eventually, Raiven's responses became shorter, his breathing turning rhythmic and deep. Haru watched as the superstar finally succumbed to sleep, his face peaceful in the dim light of a foreign hotel room
Haru didn't hang up. He watched the rhythmic rise and fall of Raiven's chest through the screen for a moment. He leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to the phone screen, right over Raiven's sleeping face, before hesitantly cutting the call.
Haru arrived at the agency office with a heavy sense of purpose. He had texted Alice the night before, telling her he needed to speak with her privately about something "personal and professional." From the immediate "I'll be waiting" response, he knew she had sensed the gravity in his tone.
When he walked in, Alice was already at the recreation corner, the scent of fresh coffee cutting through the sterile office air.
Alice watched him over the rim of her mug, her eyes sharp. She didn't rush him. She knew Haru - from the amount of time they spent together she knew he was calculated, mature, and didn't waste words.
Finally, she set her cup down. "So. What is it? You look like you're about to confess to a crime." She was trying to lighten the mood enough for him to feel comfortable.
Haru cleared his throat, his fingers tracing the ceramic edge of his cup. As Sunghoon, he had learned that an agent was either your greatest shield or your biggest liability. He remembered a high-profile relationship he'd had in the 90s with a top-tier actress; when the media got wind of it, it had been a literal circus. Only a competent agent had saved his career.
But this was different. The world was more "accepting" in 2025, but the idol industry was a different beast entirely. Raiven wasn't just a celebrity; he was an investment, a fantasy, and a global brand. The blowback for him would be catastrophic if handled poorly.
One leaked photo, one "anonymous tip," and the global brand raiven had built could face a PR nightmare. Haru wanted to make sure that if the storm ever hit, Alice wouldn't be caught off guard.
"There is something important I wanted to inform you," Haru began, his voice dropping into that low, resonant register he used when he was playing for keeps.
"I'm listening," Alice said, her posture shifting into professional alertness.
"I'm dating someone," Haru said.
Alice didn't even flinch. She took a calm sip of her coffee.
Alice didn't flinch. She had expected this. Haru was young, handsome, and at the height of his physical appeal. She'd actually been surprised he hadn't brought it up sooner. In her mind, she was already running through a list of potential people or perhaps an influencer. As long as it wasn't a "clout-chaser" or someone who would leak photos for followers, she was prepared to manage it quietly while he was still flying under the radar.
"Mmm," she hummed. "Do I have an idea of who it is? Someone from your past? An old schoolmate?"
"No," Haru said, his voice dropping an octave.
Haru swallowed hard. The silence in the room felt heavy, the ticking of the wall clock echoing his heartbeat. He looked Alice directly in the eye, his expression stone-sober.
But the next two words out of Haru's mouth didn't just break the silence - they shattered it.
"It's Raiven."
The world seemed to stop for a fraction of a second. Alice's eyes went wide, and then, in a perfectly comedic but horrifying moment of physical comedy, she choked. A spray of coffee hit the table as she began to cough violently.
Haru scrambled forward, grabbing a stack of napkins and handing them to her as she gasped for air, dabbing frantically at her blouse and her mouth.
"Is this a prank?" she managed to wheeze out, her face flushed red as she stared at him, searching for even a hint of a smile.
"It's not a joke, Alice," Haru said, his voice firm and grounding. "We just started dating. Officially."
"You are serious?!" Alice's voice was a hushed, frantic scream. She leaned back into the sofa, the napkins clutched in her hand like a white flag. "Raiven? Re-Draft's Raiven? The man who has never had a single dating rumor stick in seven years? That Raiven?"
"Yes."
The coffee she had spilled was the least of her worries. Her brain was already calculating the sheer magnitude of what Haru had just dropped in her lap.
Raiven wasn't just a celebrity; Raiven was one of the most high-profile, high-demand artist in the country.
"I'm serious," Haru affirmed.
Alice rubbed her temples, her brain clearly working at warp speed to calculate the risk-to - reward ratio of this revelation.
Alice let out a long, shaky breath and sank deep into the sofa, her head thumping against the backrest. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing through the implications. If this got out, it wouldn't just be a scandal - it would be a cultural earthquake.
She looked at him, seeing the quiet, steady resolve in his eyes, the same resolve that made him such a captivating actor.
as she looked at him - the man who was supposed to be her "easy" project , and realized that her life was about to become very, very complicated.
"We have to tackle this with optimum care," Alice whispered, her professional brain finally kicking back into gear. "If we play this wrong, it's not just a scandal. It's the end of both your careers before yours has even truly begun."
And Alice, despite her shock, was already beginning to draw the blueprints on possible scenarios and how to handle them.