Shattered Mask

Chapter 13

When Pon and Sailub returned to the rehearsal room, the atmosphere had shifted. The tension from earlier had dissolved, and the cast was already busy stretching and preparing for the upcoming practice. As soon as they entered, Benz made a beeline toward Pon, concern etched on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?" Benz asked softly.

Before Pon could fully answer, the director called for everyone to start the rehearsal. Pon managed a quick, reassuring smile toward Benz, murmuring, "I'm fine," before hurrying to join the others. He didn't want anyone worrying about him, especially since they had work to focus on.

The rehearsal began, and Pon tried his best to keep up. But his head felt heavy, and his body was sluggish. He had forgotten about his illness, distracted by the meeting and Sailub's apology. Now, with the physical exertion, his body was reminding him that he wasn't well. Still, he pushed through, determined not to let anyone know he was feeling unwell.

When the director finally called for a break, Pon slipped into a quiet corner, away from the others. He sat down and rested his head against the wall, trying to collect himself without drawing attention. His head was pounding, and despite the room's warmth, he was shivering.

As he tried to steady his breathing, Ping and Benz approached him. Ping noticed immediately that something wasn't right. Pon's pale face and slight shivering didn't escape his sharp gaze.

"You're shivering, even though the rest of us are sweating," Ping said, his voice soft with concern. Without waiting for Pon to respond, Ping shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Pon's shoulders. It was a simple, caring gesture, and for a moment, Pon felt grateful.

"Here," Ping added, making sure the jacket was secure around Pon. "You need to rest more, Pon."

Before Pon could even thank Ping, Sailub appeared, striding over with a dark look in his eyes. Without saying a word, Sailub reached down, removed Ping's jacket from Pon's shoulders, and tossed it aside. His glare was sharp, clearly directed at Ping.

"I've already warned you," Sailub said coldly, his voice low but dangerous.

Ping, however, merely smirked at Sailub, seemingly unfazed by the alpha's possessiveness. The tension between the two was palpable, but neither backed down.

Pon, too exhausted to react to the sudden commotion, simply let Sailub take control. His head was throbbing, and all he wanted was to rest. Sailub's grip on his arm was firm but not painful as the alpha pulled him away from the others. Pon didn't resist—he was too tired to fight it.

Sailub, still glaring at Ping over his shoulder, guided Pon out of the rehearsal area. The moment they stepped outside, Sailub softened his touch, his hand lingering on Pon's back as if to steady him.

"You're burning up," Sailub murmured, his concern evident now that they were alone. "Why didn't you tell anyone you were sick?"

Pon shook his head weakly, his vision blurring at the edges. "Didn't want to worry anyone..."

Sailub frowned, his protective instincts clearly kicking in. "You need to take care of yourself, Thana," he said softly, his earlier anger melting into worry. "Let's get you to rest." Without waiting for a response, Sailub gently guided him toward a quieter room where Pon could lie down.

Pon's head felt heavy, and he leaned on Sailub for support, feeling a sense of comfort in the alpha's presence. The earlier tension between them had faded, replaced by an unspoken understanding. Sailub might have been rough around the edges, but in moments like this, Pon could feel the genuine care beneath the surface.

And despite everything, Pon found himself relaxing, letting Sailub take care of him—even if just for now.

Sailub carefully guided Pon to a quiet room down the hallway, his grip firm but gentle. As they entered, Sailub glanced around and spotted a small couch. Without hesitation, he led Pon over and helped him sit down.