Autumn is a second spring

156. Live 3.0

Boun followed Prem down the corridor and into the room, his steps slow and slightly unsteady. The congratulations had finally died down—staff crowding around them with smiles, hugs, teasing remarks, and more than a few happy tears. Everyone had seemed elated, buzzing with excitement, as if the entire world had just tilted in a brighter direction.

Everyone except Boun.

Even now, as the door closed behind them, his mind felt numb, as though the proposal had happened to someone else. The image of Prem on one knee, the velvet box, the ring sliding onto his finger—it all felt surreal, like a scene from a drama he had watched too many times but never expected to star in.

Prem stood near the window, phone pressed to his ear, his voice low and warm as he spoke to their parents. He was smiling, nodding occasionally, reassuring, promising. He looked... happy. At least, that was how it seemed on the surface.

Boun sat down on the edge of the couch, staring at his hands. The ring glinted under the lights, solid and real. Everyone outside was celebrating, laughing, already talking about wedding plans. But inside Boun's chest, confusion churned restlessly.

Nothing made sense.

Prem ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. When he turned, he immediately noticed Boun's expression—dazed, unsettled, eyes unfocused.

"What's wrong?" Prem asked gently.

The question slipped something loose inside Boun.

"No one told me," Boun blurted out.

Prem frowned slightly. "Told you what?"

Boun looked up at him, words tumbling out before he could stop them. "No one told me the script was changed. I was told we were supposed to deny everything on the live. Completely deny our relationship. That was what I prepared myself for." His voice shook. "But what happened today... it was the exact opposite. And no one told me about the proposal either."

The room went very still.

Prem froze.

His hands trembled faintly at his sides, though he clenched them quickly, as if trying to steady himself. His face remained calm—too calm. There was no anger, no raised voice, no visible reaction at all. Only his eyes changed, sharpening painfully, dark with something raw and wounded.

"I see," Prem said quietly.

He took a breath, swallowing hard, then extended his hand toward Boun. "Give me the ring."

Boun blinked, his heart dropping into his stomach. "What?"

Prem's jaw tightened. He forced the words out carefully, each one cutting deeper than the last. "If you accepted it thinking the proposal was part of the script... then you should return it."

It was like a switch flipped inside Boun's head.

The truth hit him all at once—clear, brutal, undeniable. This hadn't been staged.

Prem had been serious. Completely, terrifyingly serious.

And Boun had doubted him.

He saw it then—the pain Prem was desperately trying to hide, the hurt flickering behind his composed exterior. Shame flooded Boun's chest, hot and suffocating. He opened his mouth to speak, to explain, to take it all back—

"Dada! Dami!"

The door burst open before he could say a word.

Bew came running in, laughter ringing through the room, his face glowing with unrestrained joy. He barreled straight into Prem, nearly knocking the air out of him.