The first day on the job was nothing like Joon expected — and everything he feared.

From the moment Yuna stepped out of the car at the studio, Joon’s senses were on high alert. Flashing cameras, screaming fans, even the faintest hint of someone moving suspiciously nearby could be a threat. His military training kicked in naturally: scanning, analyzing, predicting. But it was hard to focus entirely when Yuna was right there, calm and poised, yet with an underlying tension that Joon couldn’t quite read.

They moved through the chaotic lobby, Yuna’s manager trailing behind, briefing Joon on the schedule. Interviews, photo shoots, rehearsals — the life of a top idol was a whirlwind, and Joon was expected to keep pace without being seen.

The hardest part? Being close enough to protect her but far enough not to intrude.

During rehearsal, Joon stationed himself just behind the curtains. Yuna danced effortlessly, every movement precise, every smile calculated for the cameras. Yet when she caught his eyes from the corner of the stage, there was a flicker of something unguarded — a flash of loneliness beneath the spotlight’s glare.

Joon’s chest tightened. She wasn’t just a superstar. She was human.

After rehearsal, he escorted her to the waiting room. The crowd outside was restless, and Joon’s instincts screamed at him to stay alert. But inside, Yuna finally let down her guard. She sank into the chair, exhausted.

“I’m not used to having someone so close all the time,” she confessed quietly, eyes avoiding his. “It’s... strange.”

Joon swallowed. “I’m here to make sure nothing happens to you.”

She looked up then, meeting his gaze head-on. “I know.”

For a moment, the noise of the world faded, leaving only the two of them in a small bubble of uneasy calm.

Then, the phone rang.

Yuna’s manager was on the line with news: a fan had slipped past security, trying to get close.

Joon’s muscles tensed.

“This is exactly what I signed up for,” he muttered, standing.

Yuna’s eyes followed him as he moved toward the door. For the first time, the flicker of vulnerability softened into something like trust.

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