Morning didn't ease them back into reality. It dropped them into it.
William woke to the sound of his phone vibrating repeatedly against the table. Not one notification but dozens of them.
He didn't reach for it immediately.
For a moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the quiet of the apartment—feeling Est still asleep beside him, close, warm, undisturbed.
It almost felt like they had more time. Almost. The phone buzzed again.
William exhaled slowly and reached for it. Messages flooded the screen.
Manager: Call me ASAP.
PR Team: We need to align responses before press today.
Production: Schedule adjusted. Media added after shoot.
And then— articles. Photos; The bridge, The studio exit, A zoomed-in frame of William's hand around Est's wrist.
A narrative was already forming. Not confirmed. But building.
William's jaw tightened slightly.
Beside him, Est stirred. "…Morning?" he mumbled, voice still heavy with sleep.
William set the phone down. "Morning."
Est shifted, blinking slowly as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He glanced at William, then at the phone. "…Bad?"
William didn't sugarcoat it. "It's bigger."
Est let out a quiet breath. "Of course it is."
He leaned back against the couch, staring at nothing for a second. Then— "Okay."
William looked at him. "That's it?"
Est shrugged slightly. "What else am I supposed to do? Panic?"
William watched him carefully. "You don't seem surprised."
Est huffed softly. "I told you yesterday—it's only going to get bigger."
A pause.
Then Est looked at him again, more serious now. "But I meant what I said too."
"About what?" William asked quietly.
"Not pretending with you."
William held his gaze. "Good."
Because neither of them were backing down now.
Est stretched slowly, the blanket slipping slightly as he shifted closer without thinking—like it was instinct now. Like it was normal.
Est rested his head lightly against William's shoulder again. "Let's not move yet," he murmured.
William glanced at the window. "We have to leave soon."
"I know." But he didn't move either.
Instead, his hand found Est's wrist again—this time slower, softer than the night before. His fingers rested there, not gripping, just… there. A quiet contrast.
Est noticed. His gaze dropped to their hands. "…You do that a lot," he said.
William's thumb brushed lightly against his skin. "What?"
"That." Est lifted his wrist slightly between them. "Like you're making sure I'm still here."
William didn't answer immediately. Because it wasn't wrong. "…Maybe I am," he admitted.
Est looked at him properly now. No teasing. No deflection. "You think I'm going somewhere?"
William shook his head once. "No."
"Then why?"
"Because everything else keeps trying to pull us apart."
The honesty in it was quiet. But it landed. Est didn't respond right away.
Instead, he shifted closer again—this time more deliberately, his hand sliding from his own wrist to William's, fingers intertwining fully. "If I wanted to leave," Est said softly, "I wouldn't still be here."
William's expression softened. "I know."
"Then trust that."
William nodded slightly. "I do."
A small silence followed—but this one felt clearer.
Less uncertain. Est tilted his head, studying him. "You're already thinking about today, aren't you?"
William exhaled quietly. "Yeah. The questions. The press. The way everyone's going to look at us."
Est let out a soft breath, leaning back slightly but not letting go of his hand. "Then let's decide something now."
William frowned faintly. "What?"
Est sat up a little more, pulling the blanket around his shoulders, but still facing him. "No overthinking once we step out that door."
William raised an eyebrow. "That's unrealistic."
"I'm serious," Est insisted. "We already know what they're going to do. We don't need to keep running scenarios in our heads."
William watched him. "And what do we do instead?"
Est's expression shifted—more certain now. "We stay on the same page." A beat. "No surprises."
William nodded slowly. "Okay."
The tension didn't disappear. But it settled. Into something steadier. Something shared.
After a moment, Est let out a small sigh and flopped back slightly against the couch again. "…We should actually get up now."
William didn't move. "Yeah."
Another pause. Neither of them moved.
Est peeked at him. "You're not moving."
"Neither are you."
"That's because I'm waiting for you to move first."
William smirked faintly. "That's not how this works."
Est rolled his eyes—but smiled. "Fine."
He pushed himself up slowly, running a hand through his hair again, then pausing when he noticed William still watching him. "What?"
William shook his head. "Nothing."
Est narrowed his eyes slightly. "You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"That look."
William stood up now, closing the distance between them in a few steps. "This look?" he asked quietly.
Est didn't step back. "…Yeah. That one."
William reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair away from Est's face. "You're overthinking it."
Est's lips curved faintly. "No. I think I'm reading it exactly right."
William didn't deny it. Instead, he leaned in just slightly— Close enough that their foreheads nearly touched. "Then don't overanalyze it," he murmured.
Est huffed a soft laugh. "You're asking the wrong person."
"Probably."
A small pause. Then Est closed the last inch of space between them. A brief kiss.
"We've got this," Est said quietly when they pulled back.
William nodded. "Yeah."
....
The drive felt different from the night before. Quieter—but heavier.
The city was fully awake now. Traffic packed the streets. Pedestrians filled sidewalks.
And outside the studio? It was worse.
Cameras lined the entrance. Fans pressed against barricades. Reporters stood ready.
Est stared out the window as they approached. "…That's new."
William's grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "They're expecting something."
"From us."
"Yeah."
Est leaned back in his seat, exhaling slowly.
William glanced at him briefly. "You okay?"
Est nodded once. "Yeah. I just… don't want to mess this up."
William frowned slightly. "You won't."
"You don't know that."
William's voice was steady. "I do."
Est looked at him. Something about the certainty in William's tone grounded him again.
"Stay close," William added quietly.
Est smirked faintly. "You really like saying that."
William didn't smile."Because I mean it."
They didn't even make it to the set first.
A production assistant intercepted them in the lobby. "They moved the press segment earlier," she said quickly. "Conference room. Now."
William and Est exchanged a look. No time to prepare. No time to plan.
Just like that— They were walking into it.
The conference room was already full. Cameras set up in rows. Microphones lined across a long table at the front. Reporters seated, waiting. Watching.
The moment William and Est walked in, the room shifted. Every lens turned toward them. Every whisper stopped.
"Please, take your seats," someone from PR said quietly.
They sat side by side. Close—but not too close. Professional. Controlled.
The lights felt hotter here. Brighter.
A moderator stepped forward. "Thank you all for coming. We'll start with a few questions—"
The first hand shot up immediately. "Is the photo from the bridge real?"
No buildup. No hesitation. Straight to it.
Est's fingers curled slightly against his knee.
William spoke first. "We're not commenting on speculation."
Another voice cut in. "Then what about the studio footage? The way you interacted—"
"That was taken out of context," William replied calmly.
More hands. More voices.
"Are you denying a relationship?"
"Is this part of a promotional strategy?"
"Fans feel misled—"
The questions came faster now. Sharper.
Est felt it building—the pressure, the noise, the way the room seemed to lean in waiting for something to break.
William's hand shifted slightly on the table. Not obvious. But close enough that Est could feel it. A quiet anchor.
Est took a breath. Then leaned slightly toward the microphone. "We understand why people are curious," he said, voice steady despite everything. "But not everything needs to be explained publicly."
The room stilled for half a second. That wasn't denial. But it wasn't confirmation either. It was something else.
A boundary.
William glanced at him. Then added— "We're here to talk about the project."
His tone was calm. Firm. Final.
The moderator quickly stepped in. "Next question about the series, please."
The tension didn't disappear. But it shifted. The line had been drawn.
When it finally ended, they didn't linger. PR ushered them out quickly through a side hallway. The moment the door closed behind them— The noise dropped.
Est exhaled sharply. "…That was worse than I expected."
William nodded slightly. "You handled it well."
Est let out a small laugh. "I didn't answer anything."
"You didn't need to."
They walked down the hallway slowly now.
Est glanced at him. "You didn't deny it."
William didn't look at him right away. "No."
Est's breath caught slightly. "…That's going to make things worse."
"Probably."
A pause.
Then William finally looked at him. "But I'm not going to lie about something that matters."
The words landed quietly.
Est studied him for a long moment. Then— A small smile. "Yeah," he said softly. "I guess we're really doing this."
William's expression softened. "Yeah."
They didn't touch. Not here. Not yet. But as they walked back toward the set— Closer than necessary.
Shoulders brushing just slightly. In a way that looked accidental. But wasn't. Because now— It wasn't about hiding completely.
And it wasn't about revealing everything either. It was about balance. About choosing what belonged to them— And what didn't.
And as the studio doors opened again, pulling them back into lights, cameras, and expectation— They didn't pull apart. Not really.
Because even under the spotlight— They were still on the same side.