The rehearsal hall thrummed with a fierce, focused energy, thick with the scent of anticipation. Jaemin stood at the podium, a figure of total control and raw passion. Each flick of his wrist was a command, each turn of his body a story. He pushed the musicians relentlessly, demanding a level of emotional truth that left them breathless.
The defiant roar of Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5 ripped through the stillness, a thunderous, guttural cry that vibrated through the floor and into the bones of every person in the room. This was not a pleasant melody; it was a guttural cry of protest, a challenge flung into the face of adversity. The brass section, gleaming and polished, cut through the tension with brazen, biting chords, a sonic mirror of the media's relentless, hostile buzz.
From the first chair, Kang Do-hyun was Jaemin's silent partner, his gaze fixed on the conductor. He anticipated every turn, every subtle shift in tempo, his bow moving in perfect sync with Jaemin's hands. Their connection was a solid, unwavering foundation for the rest of the orchestra, a quiet, unspoken dialogue that transcended sound. It was more than a performance; it was a testament to their combined will.
When Jaemin finally lowered his hands, a triumphant exhaustion settled over the room.
"Let's take twenty minutes," Jaemin announced, his voice a little hoarse. He met Do-hyun's eyes, a flash of shared triumph passing between them, before he walked away from the podium. As some of the musicians filed toward the break room for coffee and a snack, others preferred to stay, flexing tired fingers and stretching out the tension in their cramped backs.
The room erupted in a chatter of excited exhaustion.
"My fingers are about to fall off," Han Chaewon groaned, flexing her hands. "He's a madman. A brilliant, brilliant madman."
"I thought my lungs were going to burst," Hwan Se-jin laughed, fanning himself with a sheet of music. "But… did you hear that? The finale? It sounded incredible."
"Exactly!" Yoon Hyeonwoo exclaimed. "You know, when we started, I thought it was just the Gala. A one-off. But the energy in here… it's different. It's like we're actually a team, not just a bunch of people playing instruments."
A hush fell over the group as the conversation shifted. "Okay, but can we talk about the tension?" whispered Kim Seojun excitedly. "Between Conductor-nim and Kang Do-hyun sunbae-nim? I'm not saying anything, I'm just saying! Do you see the way they look at each other all the time?"
"Kang Do-hyun-nim really doesn't take his eyes off Conductor-nim for a single moment!" Jung Eunji leaned in to add on. "I really don't think it's just about the music at this point!"
"I don't get it with you kids poking into other people's business all the time," Yoon Hyeonwoo sniffed, but continued before the rest could brush him off, "BUT… I've also noticed that Kang Do-hyun-nim always makes sure that there's a bottle of water on the podium for the Maestro. He never did anything of the sort for any of our previous conductors."
"It's totally a romance!" Jung Eunji sighed, a dreamy smile on her face. "Like something out of a classic symphony—a beautiful fairytale."
Han Chaewon, who had been listening quietly as she tinkered with her violin, finally snorted, a laugh bubbling up.
"What's so funny?" Kim Seojun asked, affronted.
"I'm not sure about a 'beautiful fairytale'," Han Chaewon said slyly, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. "You all really need to be more observant! Didn't you see?"
"See what??"
"What is it??"
"What did you see??"
Grinning like she held the most expensive secret in the world, Chaewon leaned close to Eunji and whispered something in her ear. The others watched in bewildered silence as Eunji's face blanched, then abruptly blushed a furious shade of tomato.
"A… a HICKEY?" she squeaked.
A collective gasp went through the group. "NO. Are you serious?!" Kim Seojun exclaimed, his face a conflict of pure joy and utter disbelief.
Chaewon nodded. "When he was turning aside to instruct the cellos, I swear to all that's holy, I saw something on the side of his neck when his collar shifted!"
"WHAT??!!" Seojun looked like he was going to burst into tears.
Almost in unison, every single head in the room whipped toward the empty podium. But the targets of their speculation and gossip had long since exited the room.
…
The area just outside the side doors had become a regular refuge during breaks, especially when Jaemin needed more quiet to recharge. While Do-hyun's presence had helped immensely in helping to stabilise him during his heat, his body was still weaning off the suppressants he had been so heavily dependent on for the last few years, and there were occasional spikes that threw him off balance and made him easily fatigued.
Now, he sat on the bench, taking deep breaths. Do-hyun joined him, a bottle of water in hand.
"You're pushing them hard," Do-hyun said, offering the water.
Jaemin thanked him and took a long drink, feeling the coolness trickle down his throat. "We're running out of time," he said quietly.
Do-hyun watched him closely before carefully commenting, "We're not trying to jump in for this season, and the next one's still half a year away."
Jaemin sighed, running a hand over his face. "If only it were that simple. The headlines are feeding off the anonymous comments and getting bolder, and the board is starting to ask questions. Asking if I'm really that capable, if I'm a good fit for the long term."
Do-hyun's brow creased. "Won't Manager Park answer for you?"
"He has been, but…" Jaemin hesitated, not daring to meet Do-hyun's eyes as he explained softly, "It's making me question myself. What if they're right? What if I'm not good enough? There's a possibility that Choi Seungcheol isn't involved in any of this mess and it's really just what the audience believes."
Do-hyun's face tightened, even as he bent to kneel in front of Jaemin.
Jaemin's eyes widened, then darted to the door. "Kang Do-hyun, not here…!"
Do-hyun paid no heed. "Listen to me," he said, his hands coming up to gently cup Jaemin's face. "The world may doubt you, but the people who matter don't. I don't. The orchestra doesn't. We believe in you, and we're the ones following you. That's all you need to focus on right now."
A small smile touched Jaemin's lips, but was quickly eclipsed by a worried frown. "If Choi Seungcheol is really the one behind all this… this will only be the beginning. He can be ruthless to get whatever he wants."
"I believe you." Do-hyun's reply was simple. "Just focus on doing your best with the music. Like you said, it's how we'll answer. Let Manager Park and me handle everything else."
Searching within the warm depths of the alpha's gaze, Jaemin finally nodded. Do-hyun gave him a crooked smile, and was just about to lean in to steal a quick kiss when Kim Seojun's voice, cracking with hysteria, called out from within the rehearsal hall:
"Conductor-nim?! Conductor-nim!! I need—Can I please ask you something?!? About my part, I mean, I mean the score, the score, my part in the score!!"
"What the heck is he on about?" Do-hyun grumbled, unhappy about having their moment interrupted. But Jaemin just laughed, and stood before Do-hyun could take any more liberties in such a dangerous place.
"Well, we should probably keep our personal and work lives separate anyway… Kang Do-hyun-ssi," he added pointedly, but with affection in his eyes.
"Oh, is that how you want to play it?" Do-hyun's eyes took on that bright glint they always had when he perceived a challenge. He jumped to his feet and stood with shoulders squared, hands clasped behind his back. "If that's the case, Conductor-nim, then I regret to inform you that you have been exceedingly unprofessional."
"What?" Jaemin sputtered. "I never did—That was all you just now, I even—"
The glint in Do-hyun's eyes grew, even as he sighed solemnly. "Coming to rehearsal with the evidence of your amorous activities on full display to all your colleagues in the orchestra… I'm certain that more than qualifies as unprofessional behaviour."
"Evidence of amorous…?" Jaemin looked utterly lost for a moment, until Do-hyun gave a playful but pointed gesture towards the side of his own neck, eyes flashing.
In an instant, Jaemin's breath hitched, and a hot flush crept up his face as his hand flew up. He fumbled with the collar of his shirt, hastily pulling it up to conceal the purpling mark. "I… I told you, not to—it was—not…!!" The flustered smell of his embarrassment filled the air.
Do-hyun's laugh was a low, warm rumble, full of delight as he leaned in close, careful not to touch Jaemin except for the whisper ghosting warmly against the shell of his ear:
"Nah, I'm pretty sure that wasn't what you said when I left that there… hmm, Conductor-nim?"
The orchestra got to have their break extended by another fifteen minutes before their conductor was able to stand in front of them again with some measure of composure.