Page 28 of Idol Lives
“Mind if I try this?” Ren asked as he picked up Tae Hyun’s drink. “I’ve never had one.”
“Go for it.”
Ren took a careful sip and winced. “Yeah, that’s not for me. How can you stand it?”
Tae Hyun chuckled. “I used to only drink soju, but I picked this up living in Los Angeles.”
Ren grinned. “I’ll keep my vodka, thanks.” He gave Tae Hyun a playful once-over, his eyes twinkling. “Seriously, who taught you to dress like this? You’re making the rest of us look bad.”
Tae Hyun bashfully smiled, his ears warming at the compliment. “Fashion’s always been my thing,” he admitted. “My mom used to ask for my advice until she figured out why I was so good at it.”
Ren chuckled. “Handsome, charming, fashionable, and a fantastic dancer? You’re the poster boy for every good gay stereotype out there.”
Tae Hyun smirked, nudging Ren’s arm. “Says the boy in the skirt.”
Ren nudged Tae Hyun back, his laughter bubbling up. “How else am I supposed to show off these legs?” He glanced over his shoulder at the crowded room. “It’s getting a bit much in here, isn’t it? Want to step outside for some fresh air?”
“Sure, why not?” Tae Hyun eagerly agreed.
Ren easily steered them through the crowd, leading them onto the expansive terrace. The cooler night air was a welcome change from the party’s heat, and the distant hum of Shinjuku’s nightlife created a softer soundscape. He followed Ren to a quiet corner, away from the party, the wind ruffling his hair.
“Well? What do you think of the view?” Ren asked, leaning against the railing.
Tae Hyun chuckled, mirroring Ren’s stance. The city lights sparkled like jewels across the vast horizon. It was nice to discover another thing they had in common–an appreciation for dramatic views. “Incredible. Tokyo’s always had this amazing energy.”
Ren nodded, his gaze shifting to Tae Hyun, a hint of seriousness behind the playful facade. “It’s a double-edged sword. The size? The energy? Those things are addictive. But this city can swallow you whole if you’re not careful.”
“I know the feeling. Seoul’s the same way.” The ache still sat heavy in Tae Hyun’s chest. He used to carry the hurt like a physical weight, a constant reminder of betrayal and heartbreak. He was terrified of returning to Tokyo, afraid it would drag him back down. “Honestly, I was dreading coming back here. My last visit ended badly. It made me hate this place.” A flash of surprise crossed his face as he realized that raw, all-consuming emotion was no longer there. “But you know, coming back for this tour? It’s helping me heal. You’re helping me heal,” he quietly admitted.
Ren’s eyes softened. He took a step closer, a gentle hand brushing Tae Hyun’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked, soft and deep. “It’s okay if you’d rather not.”
Tae Hyun looked down as an ice cube cracked apart in his drink. Only a handful of people knew the truth–Yoo Mi, Yun Seo, Jason, and, of course, Chang Min. Could he trust Ren with this? How could he not? Ren had experienced the same thing, the same crushing heartbreak from opening up after spending years in the closet. He would understand.
“I was in a secret relationship with one of my group members,” Tae Hyun confessed, the words almost catchingin his throat. “It was hard, sneaking around and hiding everything. I was young and naive, and I thought he loved me.” He let out a long breath, releasing the memory to night air. “Then I caught him cheating with an escort.” He shook his head, pushing the lingering pain aside. “It changed everything for me. And it made me hate this place.”
Ren’s eyes widened, surprise giving way to a nod of understanding–and maybe even a hint of shared pain. His touch lingered on Tae Hyun’s shoulder for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, a silent gesture of support. But just as quickly, he pulled back.
“Damn,” Ren roughly murmured. “I know that feeling. We all hide so much of who we are. It makes that betrayal ten times worse when it happens. That shit can really break you.” Ren looked away, staring at the glittering cityscape as if lost in his own difficult memories. “This industry. It can chew you up and spit you out before you even realize what’s happening.” He turned back to Tae Hyun, a vulnerable warmth in his eyes. “But you’re still here. You made it through. That takes real strength.”
Ren’s words resonated with Tae Hyun. The shared hurt was an invisible thread connecting them. Seeing that vulnerability in Ren’s gaze made Tae Hyun long to offer comfort, to return the support he’d been given. It was a familiar ache–the urge to protect those he cared about.
“You made it, too,” Tae Hyun softly echoed. “It takes real courage to keep putting yourself out there, trusting that the fans won’t turn on you.” He hesitated, then reached out, a tentative hand resting on Ren’s forearm. “But you’ve done it. We’ve both done it.”
Ren smiled, his eyes sparkling with the simple joy of findingsomeone who truly understood the weight of their shared burden. “You’re right. We have.” He placed his hand over Tae Hyun’s, a pleasant warmth radiating between them. “That’s why we have to stick together,” he continued, low and intense. “There aren’t many of us out there, so it makes us stronger.”
Tae Hyun nodded, feeling the beginnings of true solidarity. “Absolutely.”
Ren’s smile brightened. “You can feel it, too, right? Our connection.”
Tae Hyun nodded again, caught up in the rush of finding a true kindred spirit. “I do. Together, we’re a force that–”
Ren leaned forward, cutting Tae Hyun off with a sudden kiss. Shocked, Tae Hyun froze, his mind spinning. Then, comprehension dawned, and a surge of anger replaced the confusion. He pushed Ren back.
“What the hell, Ren? What was that?”
“I’m–I’m sorry,” Ren stammered, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. He stepped back, his eyes darting away. “I was wrong to do that.” He trailed off, his desperate apology hanging in the cool night air.
The words didn’t register at first. Tae Hyun was too stunned, the world momentarily tilting on its axis. He could hear the distant hum of traffic below, the muffled laughter of the partygoers behind them. The kiss had felt like a violation, a betrayal of the fragile trust they’d built. But then Ren’s panicked expression, the raw vulnerability in his eyes, mirrored the hurt Tae Hyun himself had felt so many times before. Maybe Ren hadn’t meant it the way it seemed. Maybe he’d genuinely misread the situation.
