Chapter 5: The Ice Prince
The room was heavy with the scent of expensive cologne and the rhythmic, frantic sound of breath catching in a quiet room. Shadows danced against the silk wallpaper as skin met skin in a desperate, wordless friction.
Beneath the weight of the man above him, Gem let out a low, fractured moan. He felt himself sinking deeper into the mattress, his body a map of electric sensations that left him exhausted yet craving more. His throat was raw, his hands anchored into the high-thread-count sheets as he let the pleasure,and the man,overwhelm him.
When the storm finally broke, the figure above him collapsed briefly, a heavy, warm weight, before pulling away.
Gem lay there, his eyes heavy with a post-coital haze, watching the silhouette of the man standing by the edge of the bed. Even in the dim light, the stranger's body looked like it had been carved from marble,lean, muscular, and perfectly proportioned. A masterpiece of a man who didn't offer a single word of comfort as he walked toward the bathroom.
Disappointment, sharp and familiar, settled in Gem's gut. He pulled the tangled, discarded sheet over his waist, listening to the shower run. He reached for his phone, the blue light illuminating his delicate, French features,features that had made him a successful childhood actor and now a rising influencer. But in this room, none of his fame seemed to matter.
A few minutes later, the door creaked open. Raiven walked out, drying his damp, shoulder-length hair with a towel. The blue and purple highlights shimmered like oil on water.
"It's good to see that even after months apart, you haven't lost your talent," Gem said, his voice dropping into a seductive purr.
He knew he was being transparent, playing a role he hoped would entice the man to stay. Who wouldn't want to possess Raiven? He was like a rare treasure, something millions of people looked at through screens but never touched. Gem was one of the lucky few, and he was becoming greedy. He wanted to cross the line from a secret encounter to something... more.
"I don't think we should meet anymore," Raiven said. He didn't look up from his phone as he checked the time.
Gem's smile faltered, then vanished. He sat up, the sheet dragging across the carpeted floor. "Raiven?"
Raiven began to dress with a practiced, mechanical efficiency. They had met several times in France during Fashion Week. Manager Kim had been thorough,NDAs were signed, secrecy was absolute. Gem had hoped their history meant something, but Raiven's eyes were like shutters, closed tight.
"It's been three years," Gem stated, his frustration finally bubbling over. He knew Raiven's net worth, his power, his influence. He wanted to be the one to melt the "Ice Prince," to be the person Raiven couldn't live without. But as he watched Raiven pull on a heavy, oversized black hoodie, he realized he wasn't even a footnote in the idol's life.
"Are you going back to Korea today?" Gem asked, lighting an electric cigarette and exhaling a plume of vapor.
"Yeah," Raiven answered. His tone was as flat as the horizon.
"Look..." Raiven paused, finally meeting Gem's gaze. He let out a soft sigh, his hands disappearing into his baggy pockets. "I was never looking for anything beyond this. Just sex. Don't make it something it isn't."
The words were a calculated twist of a knife.
"I know," Gem whispered, though the hurt in his voice betrayed him.
"Good." Raiven gave him one final, cool glance before turning his back and walking toward the door. He wasn't good with emotions, especially the messy, unrequited kind. He had set the boundaries years ago; if Gem chose to break them, that wasn't Raiven's burden to bear.
In the hotel hallway, Manager Kim was already waiting.
"Send him a bag or something," Raiven muttered as they walked toward the elevator. "Something expensive."
Manager Kim nodded, his thumb flying across a tablet. "I'll handle it. By the way, the Director called."
Raiven felt a sudden, icy chill settle in his chest. He didn't respond, instead watching the city lights of Paris blur past the tinted windows of the waiting van. He was exhausted,not just from the flight or the encounter, but from the life itself.
They arrived at the airport, where a junior manager, Li, was waiting with a security detail. Her face was pale, her eyes darting nervously toward Raiven. Most staff didn't last long on his personal team; they found his silence intimidating, his presence cold. Manager Kim often told them Raiven was easygoing once you knew him, but Li clearly didn't believe it.
They boarded the first-class cabin in silence.
Raiven leaned back into the plush leather seat, his fingers drifting to a simple silver ring hanging from a chain around his neck. He twisted it absentmindedly.
Did he love the music? He didn't know anymore. It was all he had ever known,training since childhood, the grueling schedules, the roar of the crowds. It was his cage, even if the bars were made of gold.
He closed his eyes, thinking of the "Ice Prince" persona the world expected him to play. Sometimes, he wished he could just disappear,walk into a crowded street in a world where no one knew his name and just... breathe.
But the plane was already taxiing toward the runway. He was going back to Korea. As soon as he landed he would be back in the watchful eyes of fans,paparazzi,his mother, and the dark abyss he felt himself sliding into.