between the spolight - purinz ✧

unbreakable.

yunjin's pov —

the rumors hit like a silent storm, creeping into every corner of our lives without warning. it was little things at first—a whisper here, a sidelong glance there—but soon, the weight of it felt unbearable. i could see it in chaewon, the way her gaze lingered on her phone, her easy laugh growing quieter as each day passed. the rumors had found her, and i knew exactly where they'd come from.

it was giselle. her handiwork was obvious, slicing through the peace we'd built like a hidden knife. when chaewon first looked at me with that quiet hurt, i felt a surge of anger, fierce and protective. we had been careful for so long, keeping our relationship out of the spotlight—not just for privacy, but to protect this thing we'd built, something that felt real and ours in a world where so much was taken for public consumption. but giselle was forcing us into a corner, and i couldn't let her hold that kind of power over us.

sitting across from chaewon in her dorm that night, i took her hand. "chaewon, i think we should go public."

she looked up, startled, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and caution. "you want to go public?" she asked softly.

"every time we try to keep this private, it only gives giselle more power to twist things," i said, taking a steadying breath. "what if we took control? showed everyone that we're stronger than any rumors she can throw our way?"

she was quiet for a moment, her eyes searching mine before her gaze hardened with that same determination i loved so much. "if we're in this together, i'm ready for whatever comes next."

the next morning, we requested a meeting with the company to break the news. chaewon and i sat side by side, fingers just barely brushing on the table. the executives exchanged glances as we told them, their faces quickly turning from surprise to disapproval.

"this is risky," one of them finally said, his voice controlled but hard. "for you both, and for your career. frankly, it's a risk we aren't comfortable with."

i braced myself, but the intensity of their reaction still hit like a blow.

"if you two go public," another executive added, "there will be backlash. from fans, from the media, even from within the company. this will change things for your career, and for you. are you prepared for what that means?"

chaewon nodded, her expression resolute, but my heart sank. i knew what they were hinting at—how close we were to crossing a line they wouldn't forgive.

"look, this is our story," i said firmly. "no one else should have the power to control it, least of all someone spreading lies to hurt us. we're willing to face what comes with that decision."

they looked at each other, then back at us, eyes unreadable. one of them finally leaned forward, voice low and controlled. "if you make this public, you risk everything. we need to be clear about that—your place here, your careers. it's your choice, but we can't guarantee there will be a way back."

their warning hung in the air, the weight of it making it hard to breathe. but when i looked over at chaewon, i felt the certainty return. this was something we had to do, no matter what we stood to lose.

that night, we were sitting side by side in my room, the soft hum of the city filling the quiet as i held my phone. my heart pounded, fingers hovering over the screen, but chaewon took my hand, steadying me with her presence. with one final, bracing breath, we pressed "post" together.

the reaction was instant. comments flooded in, fans were polarized, and i could feel the tension in every message from our managers. some fans expressed support, others felt betrayed, and the media took off with the story, spinning it as a scandal and questioning our dedication. the company's silence was deafening, and i knew this was a test. their approval was a distant memory, their threat still hanging heavy over us, a reminder that this could be the end.

but as i stood beside chaewon, reading through the waves of reactions together, i knew that whatever happened next, we'd face it together. the weight of secrecy, of hiding who we were, had lifted. it was terrifying, yes—but it was real.

the company might not understand, and maybe they never would. but for the first time, our story was ours alone, a bond giselle—or anyone—could never break.