Attempting to suppress your sadness is tough. Especially when you're a rising idol, living in NYC. Because once it shows, just in the slightest, everyone will ask. Then people will assume you're depressed. And stories will buzz around.

Depressed? In some way or form, yes I was. Putting on an act is one thing. But putting on a happy act, while inside you're screaming, crying, dying, is something else. I have no idea how I'm passing for it. Neither does Jackson. But somehow, I am.

I woke up a couple days after I answered questions for that persistent journalist, Eddy Oh, hearing Jackson cursing, possibly every curse word, loudly. The TV was buzzing news quietly. I sat up, and slipped a pair of sweatpants over my legs. Then I walked out of my room, scratching the back of my head.

"Jackson," I slurred, "what's going on?"

His head jerked towards me, his eyes widened. "Oh, hey, Kyungsoo..." He smiled at me. "Did I wake you?"

"No, not really. Though, I'd like to know why you were cursing so many times. Something happen?"

Jackson bit his lips. He sighed, after a short hesitation, then said, "It's all over the news..."

A lump rose in my throat. "What is?"

"A phone call between you and Jongin."

How...?, was all I could think. I tried to remember anyone that could've been around to record a conversation with Jongin. Then, I remembered the day Eddy Oh had, once again, bothered me with questions, one of them being about my love life. Anger boiled up inside of me. I clenched my fists, holding back tears of rage. This was the last thing I wanted for Jongin and I. To have our relationship be public. Having it long distance was enough. But this was even worse.

I stormed back to my bedroom, grabbed my cell, and dialed the company Eddy Oh worked with. A woman came over the phone. "Hello?"

"Where the hell is Eddy Oh?"

The woman's tone changed to slightly afraid. "S-sir, I'm afraid he's bu-"

"This is D.O, and I'd like to speak to him. Now." I practically growled.

"I-I'll transfer your call to his office..."

I waited impatiently for a good five minutes, until I heard his voice over the phone. "This is Eddy Oh, how can-"

"What the hell did you do?" I tried to hold back the tears threatening to leave my eyes.

He said nothing. Which only pissed me off more.

"You better tell me how you got that ing conversation, before I-"

"Look, D.O, I can explain. I have an explanation, I promise."

A tear strolled down my cheek. "I don't need it." My voice began to tremble. "Don't around with me, or my private life, again."

"D.O, I-"

But I hung up and threw my cell onto my bed, before more words could come out of his mouth. I dragged my back against the wall, and sat down, my knees tucked in toward my chest. I cried. I screamed. I heard Jackson knock on my locked door, just so he could try to comfort me. Why...why did this happen? How did I let it happen?

Now...what will happen? And how will Jongin react to it? We swore, months before, that our love was to be kept away from the rest of the world. It was us, our families, and our close friends. Nobody else. But the whole world knows. That I have a boyfriend by the name Kim Jongin. Once they find a photo of him, whether it be reporters seeing me video chat, or they somehow hack into my cell, which would have selcas of Jongin and I, the fans in Korea will be all over him.

Was my rising career over?, I didn't know. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Anything could happen, at that point.

My phone rang. I got up, dried the tears, and saw Jongin's contact for video call. I pressed the green answer button, and held my phone landscape and in front of me.

He smiled genuinely when he saw me. But once he realized I'd been crying, he frowned. "What happened?" Jongin asked concernedly.

I sniffled, shaking my head. "It's nothing..."

"Soo." He whispered, his tone still concerned.

"I'll tell you later. I promise to tell you later. For now...can you just sing for me?"

His expression was worried. But the worried look you'd give your best friend when you knew something was wrong. He nodded slowly, and started singing. Again, tears left from my eyes, not of anger...of sadness.

If only he were right next to me, rocking me back and forth, singing to me. That's all I wished for, more than anything else in the world.