Zane woke up exhausted.
Not the kind of exhaustion that came from a hard fight or an extra hour at the gym. This one was different. It clung to his skin, pressed against his skull, made his limbs feel heavier than usual. He stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, sunlight slipping through the thin gap in his curtains, painting a pale line across the white paint.
He hadn't slept well.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw two things.
Adrien.
And that interview.
He rolled onto his back and exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.
Adrien in the boxers. Adrien's composed face. Adrien's quiet smile at the restaurant. Adrien's text — good 😤 — like he was trying to act unimpressed but couldn't quite hide it.
Then it shifted.
The flashing camera lights. The microphone shoved too close to his face. The question.
Are the rumors about you being gay true?
His jaw tightened.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, fingers pushing through his messy dark hair. His muscles were sore from last night's training, but the ache in his chest was worse.
His phone buzzed on the bedside table.
His heart jumped.
For one stupid second, he thought — Adrien.
He reached for it too quickly.
Unknown number.
His brows furrowed.
He opened the message.
"Really bitch?"
Zane stared at the screen.
"What the hell?" he muttered.
Another vibration buzzed against his palm, but before he could process it, his mother's voice called from downstairs.
"Zane! Breakfast!"
He swallowed, locking the phone. He'd deal with it later.
He dragged himself out of bed and pulled on a gray hoodie and sweatpants before heading downstairs.
The smell of eggs and toast filled the house. His mom was standing by the stove, humming softly. She turned when she heard him.
"There's my champion," she said with a warm smile.
He forced a grin. "Morning."
She placed a plate in front of him at the table. "You looked tired on TV."
He froze slightly. "You saw it?"
"Of course I did. The whole country did." She sat across from him. "You did well."
He nodded, picking up his fork. He didn't ask which part she saw. The match? The interview?
He didn't want to know.
Meanwhile—
Adrien woke up slowly, sunlight spilling across his penthouse bedroom.
He didn't move for a long moment.
He sat upright eventually, crossing his legs beneath him on the bed. His room was quiet — too quiet — and for once, he wished there was noise to drown out his thoughts.
He reached for his laptop on the nightstand and opened it.
Notifications flooded the screen.
Mentions. Tags. Articles.
His jaw tightened slightly.
He clicked the link from the sports channel that streamed the match.
Breaking news.
Zane Calloway addresses rumors about his sexuality following viral speculation.
Adrien's fingers stilled on the keyboard.
He clicked.
The video loaded.
It wasn't a formal interview. It was rushed. Chaotic. Paparazzi flashing cameras as Zane made his way toward his car after the match.
The microphone appeared from the side.
"Zane! Zane! Are the rumors about you being gay true?"
Zane froze.
Adrien's stomach tightened.
He hadn't noticed it yesterday. The hesitation. The flicker in Zane's eyes.
Zane cleared his throat.
"No. They're not."
Adrien didn't blink.
"I've said before I experimented in the past. I was bi. But right now? I'm a hundred percent straight."
The words echoed.
Hundred percent straight.
The paparazzi pressed further.
"What about the pictures of you with other men?"
"That was before," Zane said quickly. "That was different. I'm straight."
He got into his car immediately after.
The video ended.
Adrien stared at the screen.
He didn't move.
He didn't blink.
He just stared.
He hugged the pillow beside him tightly against his chest without realizing it.
A hundred percent straight.
He didn't know what he expected.
But it still felt like something inside him cracked quietly.
His phone rang suddenly.
He flinched.
Caller ID: Mother 🩶
He closed the laptop with a soft snap and inhaled before answering.
"Hello, mother."
Her voice flowed smoothly through the speaker, polished and controlled.
She spoke about fashion week preparations. About his Korean classes. About how important networking would be this season.
Adrien responded automatically, voice calm and collected.
Then—
"Ji-Won told me you've been distant," his mother added lightly.
Adrien's jaw clenched.
"She feels you don't spend enough time with her."
He stared ahead blankly.
"I'm in my final year," he said evenly. "I have responsibilities. My schedule is packed. I spend enough time with Ji-Won."
"She is my friend's daughter," his mother reminded gently. "At least take her on a date this weekend."
He wanted to end the call.
He wanted to say no.
Instead—
"…Fine."
"Good," she replied warmly. "I'm proud of you."
The call ended.
Adrien lowered the phone slowly and exhaled heavily.
His room suddenly felt suffocating.
Back at the Calloway house—
Zane was halfway through breakfast when the sports channel replayed last night's match highlights.
He barely paid attention until the segment shifted.
Exclusive clip from last night's post-fight interview.
His stomach dropped.
The TV replayed it.
The question.
His pause.
His denial.
He felt like he was watching someone else.
Like it wasn't him.
Like it wasn't his voice saying those words.
"I'm a hundred percent straight."
His appetite vanished.
His phone buzzed again.
He looked down.
Same unknown number.
"Answer me asshole or I'll publish those pics of you kissing that dude at the club… that OnlyFans model."
The world tilted.
The TV felt too loud suddenly.
He grabbed the remote and turned it off immediately.
Silence filled the room.
His breathing grew heavier.
OnlyFans model.
The club.
The kiss.
His mind flashed back.
It had been 3 or 4 weeks ago.
Music blasting. Sweat and alcohol thick in the air. Cameras everywhere but no one paying attention.
He'd met his ex
One drink turned into two.
One laugh into a hand on his waist.
He didn't even remember who leaned in first.
He just remembered the kiss.
And someone taking a picture.
His stomach twisted.
His sponsor.
The Camille Group.
The contracts.
The ads.
The money.
His mom.
Everything could collapse.
"Zane?"
His mother's voice snapped him back.
He stood abruptly. "I— I need air."
He grabbed his phone and rushed upstairs, locking his bedroom door behind him.
His hands trembled slightly as he typed.
Who is this?
The reply came instantly.
You know who it is. You lied.
He swallowed.
Another message.
I want 50k or those pics go viral.
His chest tightened painfully.
Fifty thousand?
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall.
He couldn't breathe properly.
If the photos surfaced now — right after he denied everything — he would look like a liar. A fraud.
Sponsors hated scandals.
Especially contradictory ones.
And if they believed he lied deliberately?
Contracts terminated.
Future deals gone.
His phone vibrated again.
Clock's ticking.
Zane pressed his palms to his eyes.
He shouldn't have denied it.
But he panicked.
He thought about Camille.
He thought about Adrien.
He thought—
Adrien.
His chest constricted again.
Adrien saw it.
Of course he did.
Everyone saw it.
He reached for his phone instinctively, opening their chat.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
What would he even say?
Hey. Sorry I publicly denied being into men. By the way I might get exposed soon.
He dropped the phone beside him.
He felt sick.
Meanwhile—
Adrien stood by the large window of his penthouse, staring at the city below.
His mind replayed the video.
He told himself it didn't matter.
He told himself Zane's sexuality had nothing to do with him.
They weren't—
They weren't anything.
But still.
He picked up his phone.
Opened their chat.
Last message from Zane: you watched me?
Adrien's fingers hovered.
He almost typed something sarcastic.
Something detached.
Instead, he locked the phone and tossed it onto the couch.
"This is going too far," he murmured to himself.
He didn't know what "this" even was.
The tension.
The texting.
The way his chest tightened when Zane smiled.
The way it hurt hearing him say he was straight.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
He needed distance.
He needed clarity.
And yet—
He knew if his phone buzzed with Zane's name, he'd look.
Back in his room, Zane stared at the demand again.
50k.
He could pay it.
But what if they asked for more?
What if they leaked it anyway?
His heart pounded violently.
His phone buzzed again.
This time—
Adrien.
Zane's breath caught.
Adrien: You alive?
He stared at the message like it might disappear.
Alive.
He let out a shaky breath and typed back.
Yeah. Why?
A pause.
Then—
Just asking.
Zane's chest felt tight.
He wanted to tell him.
About the threat.
About the lie.
About how he froze because he thought about losing everything.
Instead, he typed—
Training later.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then nothing.
Zane stared at the screen for a long time.
He felt trapped.
Between the lie.
The blackmail.
And whatever was happening between him and Adrien.
Downstairs, the house was quiet again.
Up in his penthouse, Adrien leaned his forehead against the glass.
At the Calloway house, Zane sat on his bed, staring at a message that could ruin him.
And neither of them knew that the lie had already started unraveling the fragile thread connecting them.