“Hyoyeon,” Tiffany said when they were halfway through the dark corridor filled with doors that were pathways to a secret, private world where its inhabitants enjoyed an hour of two of privacy and freedom – something Tiffany was desperately longing for right now as she sank to the ground, her legs finally giving out underneath her. “Give me…give me a minute.”

“Fany,” Hyoyeon said gently, kneeling beside her. There was no trace of the furious Hyoyeon that had hit a total stranger in the washroom earlier; only kind, motherly Hyoyeon who was totally reckless and funny and their group’s queen of dance who had just, quite possibly, thrown her own image out of the washroom window only to invite more potential scandals and consequent public scorn. “Fany, get up, let’s get back to the room.”

“Just a minute,” Tiffany almost begged.

“Fany,” Hyoyeon’s voice was almost amused and Tiffany looked up because she certainly didn’t see the humour in the whole situation. “Imagine what people would think if they came by and saw you curled up on a grubby noraebang floor like this. SNSD’s image would be shot to hell.”

“What about your image?” Tiffany asked, almost trembling with surpressed horror and guilt. “You hit a girl, Hyoyeon. You assaulted someone. Remember what happened last time? I’m not worth that, Hyo.”

Hyoyeon barely flinched, but her lips did press together in a firm line and Tiffany stared at her with dark eyes.

“I hit my ex because he was a douche,” Hyoyeon said flatly, “And that girl was being a delusional . I wasn’t just going to stand by and let her walk all over you. You were worth it, trust me. You’re worth it.”

“Hyo–” Tiffany started, but her member only cut her off with a firm grip on her upper arms as she hauled Tiffany to her feet and propelled her along the corridor, back to the room they had rented for the night where she opened the door and quickly shut it behind them.

“It sure took you long enough, Fany.” Jessica drawled before snapping to attention when she saw her members’ expressions.

Tiffany wondered distractedly if she was doing such a bad job containing her emotions, even after so much practice. But then again, after days and months and years of wearing masks day in and day out, the members had learnt to see past each others’ masks somewhat, and Tiffany had always found her own too easily penetrated by her friends.

That mask crumbled as she did, folding into the couch as Yoona leaned in worriedly, seeming more lucid compared to her drunken state earlier. She must have sobered up, but then again, Yoona never really was much of an obnoxious drunk. Or maybe it was just Yoona who always had to be so careful, so controlled that the rigid control she extended over her queenly image crept into her drunken habits that were virtually non-existent. Yoona had put everything into carefully cultivating her image for herself, for SNSD, had been a large factor in the group’s popularity back then and even now and her image could so easily be affected by this one incident–

Tiffany moaned in horror. “Yoona….”

Tiffany dimly heard Sunny asking, “What’s wrong?”

Hyoyeon’s voice was low, quick, as she explained everything to the other two members in the room. Jessica’s eyes were a flat black now, and Sunny’s mouth mirrored Jessica’s expression with her lips set in a furious, rigid line. Yoona paid her unnies no heed, only focusing her gentle words on Tiffany who barely heard them as she stared ahead, horrified as she imagined all the repercussions, all the articles and names and comments….

“Tiffany,” Jessica’s voice was calm, “Fany. Steph.”

Tiffany looked up at the mention of the old nickname she hasn’t heard in ages, lifting her pale, wan face to Jessica who softened minutely at the sight. “I’ll call the managers, don’t worry. The management will take care of this.”

Sunny, who was hovering by Jessica’s shoulder, nodded as Hyoyeon crouched by Tiffany.

“Fany,” Hyoyeon said gently. “Don’t worry.”

Tiffany just looked past her, unable to face Hyoyeon head on because she felt awful, like it was all her fault and a sudden resentment bloomed in her chest at the young, foolish twenty year-old girl she had once been, the young girl who had been swept off her feet by a romantic confession penned on the back of a music score, the young girl who had been so blissfully unaware of the fallout of that whispered, tearful, joyful yes and she pressed her fingertips to her eyes, trembling as she felt the tears threaten her vision.

‘Go back home, Yoona,” Tiffany said, her voice surprisingly strong despite how fragile and frightened she felt. “Jessi, Hyo….please, go home. It’s better if we leave right away.”

Jessica’s arms slip around her shoulders then – she knew it was Jessica by the sharpness of the bones that dig into Tiffany as she leaned against her shoulders, knew it’s her by the citrus scent that Jessica always wears like a veil – and they fled.

Lee Sooman was waiting for the nine of them.

Despite being fully grown women who are nearly in their thirties and nothing like the awestruck teenagers they were when they first met one of the most powerful men in the entertainment industry, SNSD still bowed their heads as they quietly filed through the door.

Lee Sooman looked as worn out as Tiffany felt, but his voice was still firm, and eyes still as shrewd as ever.

“You’ve been getting into quite a bit of trouble lately, Tiffany.”

“I-I’m sorry, seonsaengnim,” she managed to eke out, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Taeyeon reached for one hand, squeezing her fingers reassuringly as Hyoyeon took the other beside her. Sunny was staring at her uncle with worry and the slightest hint of embarrassment, Seohyun was silent, Yoona and Yuri and Sooyoung wore identical expressions of discomfort whereas Jessica’s eyes were trained on Lee Sooman’s face with quiet dignity. Tiffany envied Jessica’s composure—she could already feel her lips whitening at the flaying that was promised in the quiet, menacing tone of Lee Sooman’s voice. Kim Youngmin, their CEO, was standing a little far off, to the back behind Lee Sooman with his hands clasped behind his back; the girls barely looked at him. Everyone knew who really held the reins in S.M.

“I apologize, seonsaengnim,” Taeyeon said formally. Tiffany wondered if she was the only one who heard the tremulous quiver in Taeyeon’s voice and she bit down on her lower lip, consumed by guilt.

Lee Sooman certainly didn’t seem placated – his expression was still dark. Tiffany swallowed convulsively, searching for the proper words when Jessica spoke, quietly, from her spot next to Hyoyeon—

“Seonsaengnim, Tiffany was attacked.” Tiffany could hear the seething bitterness and frustration and anger beneath Jessica’s even tone. “Don’t you think you should be more worried about her well being instead?”

Taeyeon stiffened beside Tiffany, shooting her member a pleading look to just keep quiet and take the heat but Jessica’s eyes were cool and focused on their boss.

“Well, what do you want me to do, Jessica?” Lee Sooman asked, linking his fingers together to form a steeple and rested his chin on his hands. “Pat you girls on the back and tell you well done for getting into the news for something like this? This isn’t a dating scandal, or something trivial like a fuss some netizens kicked up over bad attitude. It’s assault the girl is accusing you of.” He looked at Hyoyeon and Tiffany then. “You’re lucky we’ve managed to keep this under wraps so far.”

“She—” Tiffany her lips which suddenly felt very dry, “She made a report?”

“Yes,” the reply was clipped. “She made a police report three hours ago.”

Tiffany suddenly felt very faint, and if it wasn’t for Taeyeon’s firm grip on her she was sure she would have sunken to the floor on her knees there and then.

“It’s not Tiffany’s fault, seonsaengnim,” Taeyeon started earnestly. “The girl was the one who started it, she held on to Tiffany first and they fall by accident. Tiffany twisted her leg, and the girl was the one who slapped—”

“It doesn’t matter who slapped who first,” Lee Sooman said, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “The fact of the matter is that Hyoyeon hit the girl back and now the girl’s playing the victim. If the news breaks, it doesn’t matter what the outcome of the investigation is because there will be a lot of people who will point to you and say that that kind of behavior is inappropriate for public figures. You’re not young anymore, girls, they won’t let you off any easier just because you’re veterans. If anything, they’ll be even harsher.”

Tiffany swallowed, and the girls flanking her were very still. Lee Sooman sighed, leaning back in his large leather chair.

"Your generation is over, girls," he said almost kindly despite the cruel words that he spoke. "You must be aware of it yourself. You don't break as many records, your sales are dropping, you don't win so many awards. But even so, So Nyuh Shi Dae is still a brand, it's still something that can keep you clothed and fed and get you jobs in the entertainment industry. But it's a brand, and a brand is built on credibility and your own images. If you dirty that....well, you won't have much left. It doesn't matter how many Daesangs you girls have won; this is the present."

All of them were silent.

"And you," he looked at Hyoyeon. "You, as a dancer....you don't have such a long career, you know. You'll grow old and your joints will hurt and you won't be able to dance the way you do now. You have the smallest fanbase, you're the least bankable. Do you think you can afford any more scandals? That first one with your ex was bad enough already."

Tiffany didn't need to look at her members to know how their reactions would be like, but she did anyway, an involuntary action, a seizure of guilt and the instinctive need to look to the others for guidance and help. Taeyeon flinched; Jessica was pale with anger, Hyoyeon's lips were white.

Lee Sooman continued like he had not just shredded Hyoyeon's self-esteem to pieces.

“It’s not exactly the easiest job looking after so many kids, you know. You guys do get into a lot of trouble. Also, it would have been nice if you kids could give us warning before you drop bombshells like marriage news next time.” He gave a half-smile that was taut, perfunctory and not quite there. “By the way….congratulations, Tiffany.”

Tiffany only bowed her head just as a phone near the edge of the large mahogany desk their chairman was sitting behind rang, shrill and piercing, cutting through the silence easily. Lee Sooman leaned forward and plucked the phone off its cradle.

"Yes?" 

A pause, then his mouth thinned, pinching together as his jaw set. 

"Yes, I see. I understand. Thank you."

As he put the phone back into its cradle, Tiffany couldn't quite help herself from blurting out, "Was that about—"

"The reporters found out," he said quietly. "Get ready."

Tiffany reeled, not really caring about Taeyeon's fingers that were digging into her arm now or her best friend's eyes that were screaming helplessness because even Taeyeon couldn't save her, couldn't protect her now. She stepped back blindly, bumping into Jessica's hand that pressed against the small of her back, a warm spot of heat blooming against the back of her waist. She sagged against Jessica who was pushing back up against her now, keeping her up.

Tiffany certainly felt like the only thing keeping her upright was Jessica. It was very reassuring, and comforting, to imagine that Jessica was strong enough to protect her even though all nine of them were equally helpless, equally at the mercy of whatever their company would decide to do or say after this. 

But who would protect Seunghyun? she wondered to herself. Seunghyun, Seunghyun, Seunghyun.

Her heart twisted in pain and regret. Love....love hurts, but she doesn't want that for him, doesn't want Seunghyun to ever hurt the way she did.

Lee Sooman sighed, steepling his fingers again.

 “We’ll take care of this, don’t worry. I’ll try not to involve you as much as possible, but the prosecutors will definitely call you in for a statement. We’ll get the lawyers; don’t worry too much about it. You know what to do: just lie low, look appropriately ashamed and the PR team will brief you on what to say once the news breaks.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, appropriately ashamed.

“It’s the least I can do. Consider this my wedding present to you, I suppose.” Lee Sooman suddenly sounded very tired as he looked at Tiffany. He didn’t look angry, or disappointed or—anything. He didn’t even look like the chairman of the most powerful entertainment company in South Korea and the man who had created legends like H.O.T, DBSK, or even SNSD themselves. He just looked like a very tired old man. “Now, get out of my sight, all of you.”

"Are you okay?" Seunghyun asked, his voice gentle and low with concern as he placed a hand on Tiffany's arm. Comforting, but not restraining.

She turned to press her face against his chest. He had insisted on coming to pick her up and drive her to prosecutor's office, and turned up five minutes ago at the door of their dorm with a full smile that had instantly made her feel better. Taeyeon had pressed her hand, asking her wordlessly with her eyes if she needed her, but Tiffany had shook her head. 

It was a good thing that Hyoyeon was driving herself to the prosecutor's office with Jessica and Yoona in tow. Sunny was going to come a little later after wrapping up a radio schedule. Tiffany was glad – she needed to be alone with Seunghyun; needed to apologize. 

"What is it?" he asked, fingers brushing her hair softly and tentatively, like he was afraid she would break if he pressed down any harder. Tiffany felt like the anxiety was a rubber band pulled taut in her chest; stretch it any further and it would snap and she would fracture right with it. "Miyoung?"

"Give me a minute," she mumbled against his shirt. He laughed; she could feel his shoulders moving as he pulled away from her gently. He was taking this well, much better than she was in fact. But then again, one of them had to be strong.

"We're in a car park, Miyoung. It's not exactly the most romantic place to be physically affectionate."

Tiffany was the one who pulled away then, cheeks flushing a bright red. "Seunghyun!"

He only smiled docilely, opening her door for her. She sighed and got in, crossing her arms. Seunghyun leaned down, rearranging her skirt over her knees and brushed her cheek with his lips briefly before pulling away and shutting the door.

Tiffany flushed again, watching him walk around the car to the driver's side before she bit down on her lip nervously. As he got into her seat, she twisted her fingers nervously, taking a few shallow, rapid breaths.

He started the car, and the engine purred to life, and he pulled away.

Seunghyun didn't switch the radio on like he normally did as they wove through Seoul, hidden from the public's nosy stares by dark-tinted windows. He took her hand that felt cold and clammy, but he made no complaint, only rubbing comforting circles into the back of her thumb as she stared straight ahead.

"Seunghyun."

"Hmm?" 

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" he seemed genuinely confused, taking his eyes off the road to throw her a puzzled look.

"Everything I suppose," she said rather lamely. She knew exactly what she was talking about, of course—she had gone through this conversation countless times in her head—but it would hurt too much to say them out loud, to repeat the comments that said all she was since debut was a troublemaker, and the comments that said she didn't deserve Seunghyun, the comments that said she was just going to bring down Seunghyun who had been untouched by scandals so far, and that she would only ever be a burden—

He was silent for a moment, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. A light turned red, and the car slowed before coming to a stop. Then he asked again, "Are you okay, Miyoung?"

Yes, she started to say, but she couldn't quite complete the lie. She shook her head, trying to hold back the tears but of course, her body betrayed her like it had so many times in the past.

"My poor girl," Seunghyun murmured, folding his arms around her, pulling her closer as she cried into his shirt, not seeming to mind as she ruined the fabric with saline liquid and smeared makeup. It took a full minute for her to compose herself, or at least, pull herself together marginally, and she pulled away reluctantly. Seunghyun reached behind to produce a packet of tissues which she took gratefully.

The lights turned green, and he stepped on the accelerator, going slower than before as he glanced at her concernedly. 

"What are you afraid of?" he asked gently.

It was quite amazing, Tiffany thought to herself even as she blew into the tissue rather ungraciously, hoping he wouldn't mind how utterly unattractive she looked with red eyes and blotchy cheeks. Seunghyun seemed to know instinctively what was bothering her, he knew her well enough and had probably been worried too, and somehow that just made her feel worse.

"I-I don't know," she whispered. "I just wish that you didn't have to marry someone with as many scandals or issues as I have."

"Tiffany," he said quietly, and she looked at him, startled, because he never called her by her stage name, "It doesn't matter to me how many times you've been on the front cover for something stupid someone else did or assumed. Do you think it ever did—"

He broke off with a choke, seeming unable to finish his words.

"Seunghyun?"

"For God's sake, Miyoung," he said almost angrily, "Do you think I would hold anything like that against you? Do you think I care about all that? I love you, I want to marry you, and don't you ever doubt yourself—"

"I just wish I could be better than me for you," Tiffany whispered.

"Oh, Miyoung," he sighed, taking her hand again. "You are good enough for me; too good for me and sometimes it hurts how beautiful and perfect you are." He gave her a half-exasperated, half-tired smile. "You're more than enough for me. Too good for me," he repeated, squeezing her fingerrs.

"I'm not," she whispered. "I wish I was, but I'm not."

"Don't. You are," he said, voice firm. "You're all I ever want, and need, and don't you ever think you're not enough for me. Don't ever."

"Thank you," she deflated slightly in relief as he tugged her closer over to his side, interlacing his fingers with hers firmly. "Thank you for....believing."

"You're more than enough for me," he repeated softly, firmly. "You're perfect, don't you forget that."

Tiffany closed her eyes at his full, dazzling smile and she felt her exhaustion sweep over her and she barely held it back. Seunghyun's fingers around hers kept her rooted, kept her grounded and upright in the flood of weariness. 

"I love you," she whispered it like it was a confession, not like he was already hers to keep.

"I know," he murmured sincerely, voice soft and warm. "I love you too."

Tiffany nodded wordlessly, brushing one more tear from the corner of her eye where it refused to fall.

A/N: I returned all of the donated karma points because I promised I would if I failed to get the bid. I know a lot of you donated sincerely without any wish for anything in return, but I made a promise you see, and I intend to keep it. But thank you all for the support, thank you thank you thank you.