#taeraescenario

TaeRae had never been good at thinking under pressure. Usually, he could roll with the punches, smooth-talk his way out of anything, but today? Today, he was doomed.

The conversation had started harmlessly enough—just a group of friends joking around during lunch. But then Hao, always the nosy one, decided to put TaeRae on the spot.

"Come on, TaeRae. You have to like someone. Spill."

TaeRae had laughed, shaking his head. "Not happening."

But Hao didn’t let up. Neither did the others. The teasing got worse, their curiosity growing by the second. And then the dreaded question came—

"Wait… is it someone we know?"

The momentary silence that followed was suffocating. TaeRae could feel the weight of all their expectant gazes pressing in on him, his brain short-circuiting.

Yes. It was someone they knew. It was you.

His best friend. His partner-in-crime. The one person he could never tell because the thought of losing you was unbearable.

So, he did the stupidest thing imaginable.

"Fine," he blurted out, grasping at the first solution that came to mind. "It’s Y/N."

The words hung in the air.

Wait.

Wait.

Did he—did he just confess his "feelings" for you… to cover up the real ones?

His stomach dropped.

There was no taking it back now.

The group erupted into chaos. Hao looked like he had won the lottery, while Yujin gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like this was the romance of the century. Someone else whistled. And you—

TaeRae dared to glance at you, expecting shock, confusion, maybe even horror.

But you… you just stared at him for a second, then tilted your head and shrugged. "Huh. Took you long enough."

What?

WHAT?

He barely had time to process before someone clapped him on the back, saying something about how cute the two of you were. Just like that, the conversation moved on, but TaeRae’s world had just flipped upside down.

You—took him seriously? Were you just playing along, or—

He needed to fix this. Immediately.

Step One: Damage Control

TaeRae was freaking out.

After lunch, he pulled you aside in the hallway, his heart hammering. "Hey, so about what I said—"

"What about it?" you asked, blinking up at him, completely unbothered.

"You know I didn’t mean it, right?" His voice was rushed, nervous. "I just—everyone was asking, and I panicked—"

"I know."

He paused. "You… do?"

You nodded. "TaeRae, you suck at lying. I knew the second you said my name that it was just an excuse."

Relief flooded his chest, but it didn’t last long because you grinned mischievously and added, "That’s why I decided to play along."

Wait.

"You what?!"

"Oh, come on. Think about it." You leaned in, lowering your voice. "If we act like it’s real, they’ll stop prying into your love life. No more annoying questions. It’s a win-win."

Okay. That… kind of made sense?

But also, how was he supposed to survive pretending to like you when he already did?

Step Two: Survive the Act

The next few days were torture.

Holding hands? Apparently, that was part of the "act." You did it so casually, intertwining your fingers with his like it was second nature.

Studying together? That was normal. But now you were leaning your head on his shoulder, close enough that he could feel your breath on his neck.

The worst part? It all felt too natural. Too right.

Was this fake? Were you just a ridiculously good actor, or—

One evening, after another painfully sweet study session, TaeRae finally broke.

"I can’t do this anymore."

You blinked at him from across the couch, mid-bite of a snack. "Do what?"

"Pretend." His heart pounded. "I can’t pretend to like you because—" He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "Because I already do."

Silence.

For one horrifying moment, he thought he had just ruined everything.

Then, you smiled. Slowly, knowingly.

"You really thought I didn’t know?"

His breath hitched. "Wait. You—?"

"I’ve known for a while." You stretched lazily, tossing a snack wrapper onto the table. "I was just waiting for you to admit it."

He gaped at you, at the easy confidence in your voice. "Then why—why go along with this? Why pretend?"

You finally met his eyes, and this time, there was no teasing. Just something softer. Warmer.

"Because I like you too, idiot."