The sun hadn't even fully risen when a team of stylists arrived at the mansion. Today was the first official press conference since the "private" wedding, and the world was starving for a glimpse of Kim Taehyung's wife.
"Make her look like she belongs next to him," the head stylist commanded.
Y/N sat still as brushes and sponges blurred across her face. She felt like a doll being prepped for a shelf. When she finally stepped out, she wore a silk cream dress that cost more than her entire year's tuition. Taehyung was waiting by the car, checking his watch. He looked up, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. For a split second, his cold gaze softened, but he quickly masked it.
"Don't speak unless I nod," he said, opening the car door. "And for God's sake, keep your hand in mine. The fans look for any sign of distance."
The moment they arrived at the venue, the noise was deafening. Thousands of fans screamed, and the rhythmic clicking of cameras sounded like gunfire. Y/N felt a wave of panic, her breath hitching. Suddenly, a large, warm hand slipped into hers, squeezing firmly.
"Smile, Y/N," Taehyung whispered, leaning close to her ear so it looked like an intimate moment. "The world is watching."
Throughout the interview, Taehyung was the perfect gentleman. He spoke of "fate" and "finding peace" with her. Y/N played her part, nodding and smiling, but her heart ached. Every time he squeezed her hand or looked into her eyes with "love," she had to remind herself it was just a performance for the lens.
The high of the press conference crashed the moment they returned home. Taehyung dropped her hand as if it burned him and headed straight for his private studio, not saying a word.
Y/N changed out of the expensive dress and sat at the kitchen island, pulling out her medical textbooks. The contrast was jarring—one hour she was a global icon's wife, the next she was a student struggling with anatomy notes.
An hour later, Taehyung emerged, looking stressed. He headed for the fridge, ignoring her until he saw the books spread across the table.
"You're still doing that?" he asked, grabbing a bottle of water.
"My exams don't care if I'm married to a celebrity, Taehyung," Y/N replied without looking up. "I'm not going to throw away my career just to be your shadow."
Taehyung leaned against the counter, watching her. "You're stubborn. Most people would be out spending my credit card right now, not studying 'Pathology'."
"Maybe I'm not 'most people,'" she said, finally meeting his eyes. "And maybe if you stopped looking at me as an obligation, you'd see that."
A heavy silence filled the room. For the first time, Taehyung didn't have a sharp comeback. He looked at the tired circles under her eyes and the smudge of ink on her thumb. Just as he seemed about to say something human, his phone buzzed.
"The manager is calling," he muttered, his wall sliding back into place. "There's a scandal with a co-star I need to bury. Stay in the house tonight. I don't want you photographed while this is blowing over."
He walked out, leaving Y/N alone in the vast, quiet kitchen. She realized then that in his world, even the truth had to be hidden if it didn't fit the script.
Next chapter Preview....
the media captures Y/N in a "compromising" situation with another man—who happens to be the patient she is trying to save.