The Cracked Porcelain

The practice room at the label's headquarters was a sensory overload of heavy bass, screeching sneakers, and the smell of industrial-grade floor cleaner. Wall-to-wall mirrors reflected five men moving in perfect, lethal synchronization.

**Jaehyung** was at the center. At thirty-five, he was a decade older than the *maknae*, **Ryu**, but his movements were sharper, fueled by a desperate kind of adrenaline.

"Again!" the choreographer shouted.

The music restarted. *Thud-thud-thud.* Jaehyung’s knee gave a sickening *pop*. He didn’t flinch. He couldn't. If he showed pain, the managers would call the company doctors. If the doctors came, they’d realize he was reaching his limit. And if he reached his limit, he wouldn’t be allowed to go home to the hidden wing of his penthouse.

"Break! Ten minutes!"

Jaehyung collapsed against the mirror, his chest heaving. He pulled his hood low, hiding the dark circles under his light-blue eyes.

"Hyung," **Kael**, the rapper, walked over and tossed him a cold water bottle. Kael was observant—too observant. "You’re off-beat. Only by a millisecond, but you’re off."

"I'm fine, Kael. Just didn't sleep well," Jaehyung muttered, taking a long swig of water.

"You haven't 'slept well' in four years, Jae," Kael lowered his voice so the other members couldn't hear. "The 'Family Business' you keep mentioning... is it the divorce? We know you and Hana are... difficult."

Jaehyung stiffened. The group knew about his forced marriage to the actress—it was impossible to hide a wedding—but they thought it was just a cold, childless contract. They had no idea about the nursery. They had no idea about the **Cherry Red** eyes waiting for him at home.

"It’s being handled," Jaehyung said shortly. "Don't worry about it."

---

### The Silent Phone

While the other members, **Minho** and **Ryu**, were filming a TikTok in the corner, Jaehyung’s private phone—the one hidden in his gym bag—vibrated.

He lunged for it.

**[Encrypted Message: Mom]**

> *Jae, Aria is asking for the 'Sun-eyes' story again. Her eyes... they glowed when she woke up. I had to close the curtains. Even the sunlight seems to trigger it now. Please hurry home after practice.*

Jaehyung felt a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the dance routine. The **Centennial Heritage** was waking up. The royal blood in Aria was reacting to her growth, and he was stuck in a dance studio pretending to be a bachelor.

"Hyung! Look at this!" **Ryu** ran over, shoving his phone into Jaehyung’s face. "The fans found a photo of you at a pharmacy at 4:00 AM yesterday. They think you’re dating someone because you were buying... pediatric vitamins?"

Jaehyung’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at the blurry photo on the screen. It was him, masked and hooded, standing at a late-night counter.

"I... I have a cold," Jaehyung lied, his voice steady. "I grabbed the wrong bottle. I was tired."

"The 'Chromes' are going crazy," **Minho** laughed, leaning over. "They think the 'Ice Prince' has a secret girlfriend with a kid. Can you imagine? The scandal would be bigger than the moon!"

Jaehyung forced a laugh. It sounded hollow in his own ears. *If only you knew,* he thought. *The scandal isn't a girlfriend. It's a dynasty.*

---

### The Breaking Point

"Alright, back to positions!" the choreographer yelled.

Jaehyung stood up, but as he pivoted for the high-jump transition, his knee finally buckled. A sharp, white-hot pain shot up his leg. He hit the floor with a heavy *thud*, his face contorting.

"Jaehyung-hyung!" the members rushed forward.

"Call the medical team!" the manager shouted, reaching for his radio.

"No!" Jaehyung gasped, clutching his knee. "No company doctors. Just... just wrap it. I’m fine."

"You aren't fine, Jae," Kael said, his face grim. "Your career is on the line. If this is a ligament tear, the comeback is over."

Jaehyung looked at the mirrors. He saw a man who was falling apart. He saw a king whose crown was made of glass. He needed a doctor, but not a company doctor who would report his every move to the Board.

He needed someone who could keep a secret. He needed someone who wouldn't care about his fame.

He closed his eyes, the image of his daughter’s glowing red eyes flashing behind his eyelids. He was thirty-five, a father, a prince, and a broken idol. And he was running out of time.

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