Chapter 64 — The Silence Between Frames
12:17 PM KST — 6 Hours into the Broadcast
The dorm had mellowed into a strange rhythm.
Members had split into zones —
Sungchan and Hyunjae were on cooking duty again (a punishment, not a reward).
Minjae sat sprawled on the couch in a blanket, pretending to be "fan service."
Rin was carefully sketching something in a notepad for the fans.
Jaeheon? Quiet again. But never absent.
Live Chat:
🎥 "This is like watching a reality show where one character never breaks the fourth wall"
😭 "Jaeheon blink if you're okay"
🐚 "He's so emotionally… still. It's haunting"
👀 "WHY does it feel like he's hiding a WHOLE MOVIE inside??"
12:44 PM — The Incident
While streaming a light-hearted Q&A game, a random question came up from a fan-submitted pool:
"If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?"
"To a beach in Italy," said Minjae. "Somewhere with zero cameras and unlimited carbs."
"I wanna see the Northern Lights again," Rin answered thoughtfully.
"A private island," Hyunjae grinned. "With only mirrors. For me."
"Anywhere without these three," Sungchan deadpanned.
Then it was Jaeheon's turn.
He paused.
And then, almost too casually, he said:
"A place I've already been."
The room stilled for a half-second.
The kind of pause that meant something, but only if you were paying attention.
"Like where?" Sungchan asked, still smiling.
"Just a garden," Jaeheon said lightly. "Long time ago."
He offered no further detail.
The others didn't press.
But Manager Lee, who was watching from the control room, leaned forward.
1:02 PM — Twitter Starts Buzzing
It took fans all of ten minutes to begin speculating.
@aureusdaily:
"A place he's already been"? "Just a garden"?
Is anyone ELSE getting the vibe that Jaeheon is hiding a secret storyline???
@hearteons:
maybe it's metaphorical
or maybe it's about HER (yes i'm still on this theory)
@moonsapphiregold:
i don't think he's waiting for someone.
i think he's remembering someone. over and over and over.
The theories started flooding in.
But none of them were right.
Because no one knew.
2:35 PM — The Members Know What Not to Ask
During a calm moment, while the others were distracted playing a chaotic card game on the floor, Rin sat near Jaeheon on the couch.
Their conversation wasn't caught on camera—just the movement of mouths, the flicker of expressions.
Rin said something low.
Jaeheon didn't respond.
Instead, he sipped his tea. Quiet. Unbothered.
And that was all.
Because even Rin, the most perceptive among them, never asked about that night.
He had once.
A year ago.
Jaeheon had answered with a silence that said more than any refusal.
Since then, none of them had ever brought it up again.
Not the garden.
Not the night.
Not the invitation.
And definitely not the girl.
3:21 PM — Fans Watching Still Miss It
There were dozens of moments. Tiny ones.
Jaeheon glancing at his phone when no one was looking.
Him drifting toward the window again like it was muscle memory.
That odd, unreadable look in his eyes when a certain piano note played in the background.
But the fans watching saw it only as aesthetic.
Mysterious idol. Beautiful face. Haunting eyes.
They didn't see the man sending daily messages into silence.
4:08 PM — Staff Journal Log (Unofficial)
"Note: Jaeheon seems emotionally stable but distant. Never disengaged, but he rarely speaks unless asked. When he does, it's always precise. Calculated. But today… there's something different. More weight behind his silences. I can't explain it. But I feel like he's waiting. Or remembering."
6:00 PM — Twelve Hours Marked
A soft notification chimed.
Jaeheon looked at his screen briefly.
Just the hour. No messages.
But he opened the chat again anyway.
Typed a line.
Deleted it.
Typed it again.
"I liked the sky today. Thought of you. That's all."
Sent.
Then he put his phone away.
No one saw.
No one would ever know.
The Mystery Begins to Burn
To the fans, he was just quiet.
To the members, he was just private.
To the staff, he was just disciplined.
But behind all that, something lived.
Something that had happened in a garden.
On a night no one else would ever understand.
And until someone forced open that door—if they ever dared—
It would remain just that:
A story behind glass.
A name never said.
A silence louder than truth.