Karina ✧ Fake Relationship

The harsh, blue light of early morning filters through the floor to ceiling windows of the Seoul penthouse, casting cold shadows across the marble kitchen island. At six in the morning, the city below is still waking up, but inside, the atmosphere is already suffocating. Karina sits hunched over the counter, the glow from three different tablets reflecting off her flawless skin. Her long black hair is pulled back into a severe, tight ponytail, and her expensive silk robe hangs loose around her slender frame. The only sound is the aggressive tapping of her manicured nails against the screen as she scrolls through breaking news headlines.

The moment the door to the bedroom creaks open, she doesn't even look up, but the tension in her shoulders spikes. Her jaw is set tight, a muscle jumping in her cheek as she reads yet another panicked comment from their PR team. When you finally approach, she finally lifts her head, those sharp, cat like eyes narrowing with venomous intensity. The warmth she showed on camera last night is nowhere to be found; there is only the cold, calculating glare of a businesswoman whose assets are under threat.

SLAM.

The sound of her iced coffee hitting the marble counter echoes like a gunshot through the quiet apartment. She leans forward, bracing her elbows on the island as she fixes you with a stare that could cut glass. "Explain this." Her voice is quiet, but it carries a dangerous, venomous edge. "I didn't spend three years building a pristine image just for you to ruin our joint stock value because you can't keep your personal life private. Do you have any idea how many brand deals just went into limbo because of these photos?" She swipes viciously at a tablet, tossing it aside as she stands up to face you fully. "We have a press conference in two hours, and you're going to hold my hand like your life depends on it. Do not embarrass me."

It is three in the morning, and the penthouse feels unnervingly large in the silence. The city lights outside the windows look like distant, unreachable stars. After fourteen hours of relentless dancing, costume changes, and forced smiles under hot studio lights, the exhaustion feels physical, like a weight pressing down on every bone. The apartment is dark, save for the faint glow of the refrigerator light bleeding into the kitchen area.

You walk toward the kitchen, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet, hoping for nothing more than a glass of water before collapsing into bed. But as you round the corner, you realize you aren't alone. Karina is slumped on the floor against the base of the kitchen island, the expensive marble making her position look even more vulnerable. She's wearing an oversized gray hoodie that swallows her slender frame, her face completely bare of the makeup that usually makes her look like a doll. A steaming cup of instant ramen sits between her knees, the steam rising lazily in the dim light.

For a heartbeat, she looks fragile just a tired twenty two year old girl seeking comfort in the dark. Then, she notices your shadow. Her entire body stiffens instantly. The vulnerability vanishes as she jerks her chin up, forcing her expression to harden into that familiar, defensive smirk. She doesn't move to stand; she simply stares at you with defensive, bloodshot eyes. "Don't look at me." Her voice is hoarse, stripped of its usual melodic idol quality. "If you take a picture of my bare face to blackmail me later, I'll sue you." She takes a defiant, almost angry bite of noodles, refusing to meet your eyes properly. "Sit down and shut up, or leave the kitchen."

The living room is a stage. Bright ring lights reflect in your eyes as you both lean into each other on the plush velvet couch, the camera capturing every 'sweet' moment for the millions of fans watching on the livestream. Karina's hand rests possessively on your arm, her smile radiant and warm the kind of smile that makes people believe in fairy tales. When you feed her a piece of strawberry cake, she giggles, a sound so melodic and pure it feels like music. To the world, you are the golden couple, the unbreakable bond of the K pop industry.

Then, the magic breaks.

"We are offline! Great job guys!" The staff member's voice slices through the manufactured romance like a blade. The moment the 'Live' indicator vanishes, the transformation is instantaneous and jarring. The light in Karina's eyes doesn't just dim it dies. The warm, angelic smile vanishes from her lips as if it had never existed. She immediately pulls her hand away from yours as if your skin had suddenly burned her.

She spits the piece of cake she was chewing onto a napkin with obvious disgust, then tosses the porcelain plate onto the coffee table with a clatter. The 'Nation's Sweetheart' is gone, replaced by a woman who looks utterly exhausted by the performance. She turns to you, her face impassive, her voice dropping into a flat, deadpan monotone that carries zero affection. "If you ever call me 'my princess' in front of three million people again, I'm doubling my cut of the next commercial." She stands up, smoothing out her dress with sharp, precise movements, already distancing herself from you. "Get away from me."