His Manager

The click of the camera echoed through the studio, punctuated by the soft murmur of instructions and the rustle of assistants adjusting lights.

"Chin up, Mackenyu. Hold it right there."

Mackenyu Arata, a vision of sculpted masculinity, stood frozen in the spotlight, his face a canvas for the day's campaign: a bold red lipstick. The photographer, a man with an eagle eye for detail, lowered his camera and frowned, leaning toward his assistant.

"These look terrible," he muttered. "Amateurish. Smudged, unconvincing. Who did this?"

The makeup artist beside him winced. "We had a few of the female staff try, but—"

"But nothing. It looks staged."

His gaze darted across the room, landing on Hana, Mackenyu's stoic manager, standing discreetly in the corner. She was watching the set with her usual unreadable expression, arms crossed. An idea sparked in his eyes. He beckoned her closer, voice laced with sudden amusement.

"Hana-san. Come here."

She approached, brow furrowing slightly. "Is something wrong?"

"I need your magic touch." He gestured toward Mackenyu's cheek, still blank. "These lip marks lack... life. You have the kind of presence that doesn't flinch. Can you help?"

Mackenyu looked over, his dark eyes settling on Hana with quiet interest.

She hesitated for only a beat. "You want me to kiss him?"

"Multiple times, in fact. With precision."

Hana glanced at Mackenyu, who gave the faintest shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching. "It's for the campaign," he said, his voice low and calm.

"Fine." She stepped forward with neutral professionalism, taking the proffered lipstick. "Give me the shade."

The makeup artist handed it over. Hana applied a precise line to her own lips, the red complementing her sharp cheekbones. Then, with practiced ease, she leaned in and pressed a kiss onto Mackenyu's cheek, leaving a perfect, natural-looking lip mark.

Silence.

Then the photographer whooped. "Brilliant! That's exactly it!" He leaned forward, studying the print. "Now, do it again." He paused, a mischievous glint sparking in his eye. "But this time... a little lower."

Hana straightened. "Lower where?"

"Jawline."

She glanced at Mackenyu, whose expression remained unreadable but for the slight tilt of his head, as if inviting her. Hana leaned in again, pressing a second kiss just above his jaw. His skin was warm. She could smell the faint scent of his cologne, something cedar and citrus.

"Perfect," the photographer breathed. "Now, one more. Just at the corner of the mouth. Make it look... almost accidental."

Hana's heart beat a little faster, but she kept her expression composed. "Alright."

She leaned in for the third time, aiming for the corner of his lips. But as she closed the distance, something unexpected happened. Mackenyu, his gaze locked on hers, turned his head slightly. Just a fraction. Just enough.

Their lips met.

A full, sudden, unexpected kiss.

For a frozen moment, the world stopped. Hana's mind reeled, thoughts crashing into one another. This was Mackenyu. The enigmatic idol. The man rumored to be in a relationship with fellow actor Kento Yamazaki. And he was kissing her. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a chaotic counterpoint to the stunned silence that had fallen over the room.

She pulled back sharply, eyes wide. "Mackenyu—"

"I—" He looked as surprised as she did. Or did he? There was a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes. "I moved. I didn't mean to—"

"You didn't mean to?"

Before he could answer, the heavy studio doors swung open.

Kento Yamazaki entered with a carefree smile, a coffee cup in each hand. "I brought reinforcements. Figured you'd need caffeine by now—" He stopped mid-step.

His smile faltered.

His eyes landed on the scene before him. The kiss—because it was still hanging in the air, in their expressions. The raw, unguarded shock on Hana's face. Mackenyu's parted lips, still stained faintly red. The way his best friend's gaze flicked toward Hana and lingered, heavy with something Kento had been noticing for weeks now.

The coffee cups hit the nearest table with a quiet thud.

"Did I interrupt something?" Kento's voice came out softer than intended. Carefully even.

Mackenyu straightened. "Kento. It was an accident."

"An accident." Kento looked between them, his jaw tightening for just a moment before he masked it with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Looked pretty intentional from where I'm standing."

Hana stepped back, regaining her composure. "It was for the shoot. The photographer asked for a lip print, and Mackenyu turned at the wrong moment." She said it calmly, but her fingers were trembling at her sides. "That's all."

"Is that all?" Kento asked, his gaze shifting to Mackenyu.

Something passed between the two men. Unspoken. Weighted.

"We'll talk later," Mackenyu said quietly.

The photographer, oblivious or choosing to ignore the tension, clapped his hands. "Alright, everyone! Let's reset. The shot's already done—the accidental one might even be the winner—but I want more options. Mackenyu, stay in position. Hana-san, thank you. You were wonderful."

Hana turned away without another word, walking back toward her corner. Her heart still pounded. Her lips still tingled.

But both men watched her go. Mackenyu's gaze was dark, conflicted. Kento's was sharper, searching.

The photoshoot continued, but the air crackled with unspoken tension. Kento didn't leave. He stood near the back, arms crossed now, watching. And every time Mackenyu looked toward Hana—and he did, again and again—Kento noticed.

Three hearts entangled in a web of desire, secrets, and unspoken truths. The perfect lip print had been captured. But the real drama had just begun.