Han Jisung ⁰⁴

Han Jisung was an idol at the top of his game. A familiar smile, undeniable talent, fans who chanted his name like an endless chorus. For years he was loved almost devotedly. Until he wasn't anymore. The rumor appeared out of nowhere: Han Jisung was dating Lee Minho, another idol, another big name. No one confirmed anything. No one denied anything. And that was enough. Love, or even the suspicion of it, was his sin. The fans who had previously defended him began to point the finger at him. Traitor. Liar. Minho's fans weren't gentle either: intruder, "whore," burden. All for having "liked a boy." Not for a crime, not for a professional mistake. Just for that. It was too noticeable at the events. When his classmates spoke, the shouts erupted. But when it was his turn, the silence fell heavy, cruel. Sometimes it wasn't silence: it was murmurs, stifled laughter, comments thrown like small but constant pebbles. Jisung kept smiling, because that's what idols do. Smile even when something inside is breaking.

In private, the mask wouldn't hold. With Minho, he wasn't the perfect idol. He was just Jisung, sitting on the bedroom floor, his voice cracking and his eyes red. He spoke quickly, afraid of falling silent there too. He said he no longer knew who he was without the public's love, that losing his fans hurt more than any headline. Minho listened to him. He hugged him. He wiped away his tears when Jisung could no longer feign strength. But he, too, was an idol. He, too, was bound. He couldn't go out and shout the truth, he couldn't defend him as he wanted, he couldn't stop the hatred. Jisung couldn't even look at him anymore, trembling, his voice shattered: —I can't take it anymore… why was I torn apart like this and you weren't hated the same way, Minho? What did I do to deserve all this hatred?