Shattered Glass
The fluorescent lights of the dorm hallway hummed, a constant, irritating drone that mirrored the buzzing in my head. Ever since it happened, the air felt thick, heavy with unspoken concern. I knew they were worried. Rose, Jisoo, and Jennie. Even the BTS boys across the hall, faces etched with a sympathy I didn't want to see. It was strange, they all said. Lisa, the unbreakable, the forever-smiling maknae, was…broken.
Y/N. Just the thought of his name sent a fresh wave of nausea through me. We'd kept it secret, our relationship a precious, fragile thing hidden from the prying eyes of the media and our demanding schedules. We'd built a world just for us, a bubble of stolen moments and whispered promises. And he'd popped it. So easily.
Finding him with her... the image was branded into my memory, a cruel slideshow that played on repeat in my mind. The shock, the betrayal, the utter devastation – it all crashed down on me at once. I hadn't just lost a boyfriend; I'd lost the illusion of a future I'd painstakingly crafted.
Days bled into weeks. I went through the motions, attending schedules, practicing choreography, forcing smiles for the cameras. But inside, I was hollow. The vibrant energy that usually fueled my performances felt like a distant echo. I was running on fumes, fueled by caffeine and the desperate need to keep up appearances.
One night, sleep eluded me, as it often did these days. The silence of the darkened dorm pressed in on me, amplifying the turmoil in my heart. I slipped out, drawn to the one place that usually brought me solace: the dance studio.
The echoing space was deserted, illuminated only by the faint moonlight filtering through the large windows. I sank to the floor, the cool wood a stark contrast to the burning ache in my chest. The tears came then, hot and furious, the dam finally breaking. I sobbed, raw and unrestrained, the sound bouncing off the silent walls.
"Lisa?"
I hadn't heard him come in. Hyujin-oppa. Our manager. Always calm, always supportive, the quiet anchor in the chaotic storm of our lives. He rushed to my side, his face etched with concern.
"Lisa, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"
I shook my head, unable to speak through the sobs that wracked my body. He didn't push, just knelt beside me, offering a comforting presence. His hand rested lightly on my back, a simple gesture that somehow unlocked the floodgates.
The words tumbled out, a jumbled mess of heartbreak and betrayal. I told him everything, about Y/N, about the secret relationship, about the devastating discovery. He listened patiently, his expression unchanging, offering no judgment, only a quiet understanding.
When I finally ran out of tears and words, Hyujin-oppa spoke, his voice gentle but firm. "Lisa-yah, I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that. You're strong, Lisa. You'll get through this. Don't let one person's mistake dim your light."
His words were like a balm to my wounded soul. He didn't dismiss my pain or offer empty platitudes. He acknowledged it, validated it, and reminded me of my own strength. I leaned into his support, drawing warmth from his presence.
"Thank you, oppa," I whispered, the gratitude overflowing. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
I hugged him then, burying my face in his shoulder, seeking solace in his familiar scent. He held me tightly, his embrace comforting and reassuring. But as we pulled away, something shifted. The air crackled with an unspoken energy. Our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still.
And then, it happened. A soft, hesitant touch. His lips brushed against mine, a fleeting, innocent kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through my body.
I gasped, pulling away abruptly, my heart pounding in my chest. Shock and confusion warred within me. What had just happened?
Without a word, I scrambled to my feet and fled the studio, the memory of the kiss burning on my lips.
The following weeks were awkward, to say the least. I avoided Hyujin-oppa as much as possible, ducking into hallways, making excuses to leave conversations. I couldn't face him, couldn't process what had happened in the studio.
Was it a moment of weakness? A lapse in judgment? Or was it something more? The thought terrified me. Hyujin-oppa was my manager, a trusted friend, a source of support. He was not someone I could, or should, be attracted to.
One evening, I found myself alone in the dorm kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for a late-night snack. I heard footsteps behind me and froze.
"Lisa?"
It was him. I turned around slowly, bracing myself for the inevitable conversation.
"Oppa," I mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk to you," he said, his voice low and serious. "About what happened in the studio."
My heart pounded against my ribs. "There's nothing to talk about. It was a mistake."
"Was it?" He stepped closer, his eyes searching mine. "Because I don't think it was."
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Oppa, you're my manager. This is wrong."
"I know," he said, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "But I can't help how I feel. Lisa, I've been in love with you since your debut."
The words hung in the air, stunning me into silence. He…what?
"I know it's crazy," he continued, "and I never thought I'd say anything. But seeing you so broken, seeing you hurting…it made me realize I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek. "Lisa, I know you're vulnerable right now. And I would never want to take advantage of that. But I had to tell you the truth. I'm in love with you."
His words resonated within me, stirring something deep inside. Could it be true? Could I possibly feel something for him too?
I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit, but found only sincerity and vulnerability. And then, it hit me. The way my heart skipped a beat whenever he was near. The warmth I felt in his presence. The silent understanding that passed between us.
I did feel something for him. I just hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge it.
"Oppa," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I…I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," he said, his voice softening. "Just tell me…do you feel anything for me too?"
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. The denial had gone on long enough. It was time to be honest, with him and with myself.
"Yes," I confessed, the word barely audible. "I do. I didn't realize it at first. But after the past few weeks…I think I'm falling for you too."
A slow smile spread across his face, illuminating his features. "Really?"
I nodded, my eyes meeting his. "Really."
He leaned in, his lips brushing against mine, this time with intention, with desire. It was no hesitant peck, but a tender, lingering kiss that sent shivers down my spine.
This was different. This was real.
We pulled apart, breathless, our foreheads touching. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only us, suspended in a moment of pure connection.
The road ahead would be challenging, I knew. A relationship with my manager was unconventional, to say the least. But in that moment, none of it mattered. All that mattered was the undeniable truth: we were in love.
And maybe, just maybe, from the shattered pieces of my broken heart, something beautiful could grow. A love born from shared pain, nurtured by unwavering support, and destined to defy all expectations.