The flowerbed - Aespa's Giselle x M!Reader

The quiet whispers

The weeks following aespa's daesang win were a blur of activity. Interviews, variety show appearances, fan signs - it seemed like every waking moment was filled with promotions and celebrations for their latest album. The girls were thriving under the attention, their hard work and talent finally receiving the recognition it deserved.

But amidst the whirlwind, I was quietly falling apart.

It started with a phone call from home, my sister's voice trembling as she delivered the news. Our father, the steady presence who had supported my unconventional career path, had suffered a stroke. He was stable but facing a long recovery, and my family needed me.

I couldn't leave, not now. Not with aespa's schedule packed to the brim, each event crucial to maintaining their momentum. They needed their manager, focused and present. I couldn't burden them with my personal crisis.

So I bottled it up, pushing the worry and guilt down, throwing myself into work with a manic energy. Early mornings, late nights, endless logistics - I filled every spare moment with tasks, leaving no room for the gnawing fear in my gut.

But the cracks were starting to show.

"Manager-nim?" Ningning's voice broke through my haze as I stared blankly at my laptop screen. "Are you okay? You look... tired."

I blinked, forcing a smile. "Just focused on finalizing the schedule for next week's music show."

She frowned but didn't push, turning back to her own practice. Across the room, I caught Giselle's concerned gaze, but I quickly looked away, burying myself in emails.

The days blurred together, exhaustion and worry taking their toll. I started making mistakes - small at first, a misplaced file here, a forgotten appointment there. But then came the disastrous radio interview, where I mixed up the call time and left the group scrambling.

"We barely made it," Karina said afterward, her usual composure strained. "The hosts weren't happy about the delay."

"I'm sorry," I apologized, my heart sinking. "I don't know how I mixed up the times."

Winter's gaze was sharp, her frustration evident. "This isn't like you, Manager-nim. What's going on?"

"Nothing," I insisted, avoiding her eyes. "Just a bit tired. It won't happen again."

Ningning frowned, her usual bubbly demeanor subdued. "But you've been 'just tired' for days now. Is everything okay?"

I forced a smile, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. "Everything's fine. Let's just focus on the next schedule."

As we headed to the van, I caught Giselle's concerned gaze. She fell into step beside me, her voice low.

"They're worried about you," she murmured. "We all are. You've been off lately."

I swallowed hard, my walls threatening to crumble under her gentle inquiry. "I'm handling it," I managed, my voice rougher than I intended.

Her hand brushed mine, a fleeting touch of support. "You don't have to handle it alone," she whispered, before climbing into the van.

But I did. I had to. I couldn't let my personal crisis derail everything they'd worked so hard for.

So I pushed it down, ignoring the concerned glances, the growing tension within the group. I couldn't afford to fall apart, not when they were counting on me.

I retreated further into work, ignoring the concerned glances, the gentle inquiries. I couldn't afford to fall apart, not when they were counting on me.

But my body had other plans.

It was during a late-night rehearsal, the girls running through choreography for an upcoming performance. I was running on fumes, subsisting on coffee and willpower. The practice room swam before my eyes, my head pounding in time with the music.