Chapter Text
It’s stupid really, how fast a lie spins out of control. Zoey cannot even begin to recount the many media training lessons she has had to endure over the years. Either from those faceless PR people or – if they had truly fucked up – Celine herself.
“There’s a delicate balance to be struck,” Celine would proclaim in that signature strict way of hers, “between appreciating your fans to strengthen the Honmoon, and keeping them at a distance so you can do your hunter duties.”
Right. So earnestly engage with fans during meet and greets and signings. Not scrounging the depths of the internet to see some wild fan theories unfold in real time.
…
But dang it, lurking in fan spaces is just so fun! It’s a bit of an addiction, really. Rumi has warned her several times not to get in too deep. But her unnie doesn’t know the joy of seeing fans turn over every lyric like a scavenger hunt. Or witness the many videos showing off their merch or mimicking their latest dance moves. She doesn’t even know about #planegate*!
*Hashtag planegate: a continuous debate amongst fans how HUNTR/X does their jumping-out-of-a-plane-stunt. Most think it’s just a projection and the three are on stage, waiting for their cue. Others believe they actually jump out of the plane. Within this group there’s a heavy debate whether they are rigged by wires or have a parachute they manage to stash away in a matter of seconds. One evening the debate got out of hand and boom! #planegate was born.
It’s just a bit of fun to scroll through whenever Zoey needs something to stimulate the brain. She knows better than to engage with it!
Well, until one evening when she is idling in bed, after an exhaustingly long meet and greet. She’s in her favorite turtle pjs, tucked away in a comfortable cocoon, scrolling on her socials to see how the fans had experienced the day.
Zoey stops to like a few photos she’s tagged in, and then likes a few other pictures of Rumi and Mira with some fans. Goddamn, they look good in their outfits. She really lucked out with her groupmates. She couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.
As she scrolls further on her timeline, she sees a particularly alarming post. A fan with the handle @huntrixenjoyer has apparently clocked her swollen lip at the meet and greet. That’s not great, but the reply from a different fan is much worse:
@gidhd
And the bandaids on Mira’s side when her shirt rode up… every so often that’ll happen or makeup will rub off and you’ll see all three girls with cuts/bruises they obviously tried to hide. Rumi was even limping on stage a few months ago. Personally I’m concerned something unsavory is happening behind the scenes.
“Unsavory?!” Zoey nearly shrieks.
Nuhuh, they are not coming for Bobby like that! He wouldn’t even hurt a fly! How dare they throw around such vile accusations without any proof?
Except… Zoey runs her thumb over her lip, still swollen. Isn’t that proof enough in the minds of their fans? An abusive team behind the scene would make a lot more sense than hunting demons in secret.
Celine’s warning flashes in her head: “There’s a delicate balance to be struck…”
Shit. She has to fix this somehow. Their faults and fears must never be seen. Without thinking, she types up a reply:
@zoeyhuntrix
God forbid we get freaky in bed
There. That ought to throw them off the scent. She’s about to switch to a different app to watch some cute baby turtle videos, when the replies start pouring in.
@huntrixenjoyer
HOLY SHIT????
@polytruther
WAIT….. #polytrix CONFIRMED?!?!👀
@huntrix4evah
This coming from the maknae 😳😳 holy mama…….
@danh43489
@polytruther ugh don’t be such a stan 🙄 they’re obviously fucking other ppl. not everyone’s gay smh
Whoa. Okay. That one’s uncalled for. What is it with people trying to white knight for her in such a despicable manner? Some people are gay. Get over it. Her thumbs type the response before she can stop herself.
@zoeyhuntrix
@danh43489 sometimes ppl ARE gay smh
More and more notifications pour in. Her first reply has netted over 10.000 likes and 300 replies within two minutes. Her latest comment is climbing in numbers too. Even with her large following, that has to be a personal record.
She doesn’t quite realize what she has unleashed, until she hears rushed footsteps from across the penthouse getting closer and closer.
“Zoey…!”
She knows she messed up not by the way Rumi storms into her room or how she calls out her name, but by two small details.
One, the door slams open without a single knock. Rumi always knocks and waits for a reply before entering her room. Always.
Two, Rumi is slightly out of breath despite being in top form. She can belt an A5 and do their killer choreography for a full live performance without as much as breaking a sweat. She can sign for 4 hours straight without her smile dropping an inch.
But now? Now that sharp outfit she wore during the meet and greet is traded in for some comfortable teddy bear pyjama bottoms and a grey hoodie. No flawless make-up or perfect posture. This is a side of Rumi very few people get to see, with her armor stripped away. And for the first time, Zoey doesn’t know if she’s happy to be one of them.
Rumi shoots her a look she doesn’t know how to interpret and holds out her phone.
“Why did you post this?!”
Zoey feels a lump forming in her throat. “I-I…”
“What’s with all the ruckus?” Mira’s gravely voice cuts through the noise, appearing behind Rumi. She rubs some sleep out of her eyes, just having woken up from an after-dinner nap.
“Have you seen this?”
“Seen what?”
Rumi holds out her phone. With her tired gaze, Mira scans over the messages, and then her eyes fly wide open.
“Oh.” She turns to Zoey. “So does binging sea turtle videos count as ‘freaky in bed’ now?”
“Stop trying to make light of it, Mira. This is serious!”
“I can see that—but you’re practically dryheaving, which means you’re freaking out. And Zoey is one harsh sound away from crying.”
“Am not!” She yelps, mid-motion of wiping away a tear out of the corner of her eye.
“Okay… let’s all take a breather before we start losing it, alright?”
Mira puts a steady hand on Rumi's shoulder, who visibly deflates.
“Yes, alright, fine.”
The two settle down onto Zoey’s bed, but it isn’t a cozy get-together like when they have a movie night. There’s no cuddling or sharing loads of food. This is her two best friends in serious mode.
It’s like Mira can sense Zoey’s anxiety spiking, because she takes her hand and gently squeezes it. “From the top, Zo. Why did you post the reply?”
Without even taking a breath, Zoey launches into the story: “Well I was scrolling my feed, interacting with some fans when I stumbled upon this post—which I know you said I had to be careful with, Rumi—and I was! I wasn’t planning to reply or anything. But then I saw how they were talking about all our demon-related injuries and how they thought Bobby or someone else from our team was doing something awful. And I wasn’t about to let that happen! And Celine! With her delicate balance. I didn’t want the world to know we hunt demons! So I thought if I could redirect the conversation our secret would be safe!”
Anyone else would have given up on her ramble after the second sentence. But not Rumi or Mira.
“I get where you’re coming from,” Rumi says slowly, “but why imply that about… us?”
“Well, technically, you don’t have to read it like we’re getting freaky together…?” She’s shaking with nerves, but she tries for her most winning smile.
“But you then replied to some guy that people can be gay?”
“Yes! Like, in general. In general people can be gay.”
Mira and Rumi share a look, and only then does it hit her how the posts come across to their fans. In a thread speculating about their frequent injuries, she implied they get freaky in bed. As in, together.
And when someone suggested HUNTR/X wasn’t gay for each other, she doubled down instead. Making it seem that all of HUNTR/X was gay. For each other.
Oh no.
In a panic, Zoey reopens the app. “I can still fix this!”
“NO! No more posting!” Rumi launches herself across the bed and tries to yank the phone out of Zoey’s hand. “You’ll only make it worse!”
“I’m good with words!” Zoey yells at her, keeping her phone out of reach. “Just let me lock in—I can craft the perfect post to fix this!”
“You can only fix this by deleting your replies. Now!”
Zoey dodges another attack, stretching out her arm behind her back so Rumi cannot reach it.
“Stop being so stubborn, Zo!”
An elbow hits her cheek as Rumi tries to grab the phone.
“I know! Just let me fix—Rumi!”
With her free hand, Zoey grabs the collar of her hoodie. Either pulling Rumi away or pulling her closer, she can’t tell anymore. It doesn’t matter as long as Rumi can’t get a hold of her phone.
Another pair of hands join in as Mira tries to pull the two girls out of each other’s hair. “Guys, stop! Let’s talk first!”
Rumi tilts her head to Mira, while her body keeps pressing firmer against Zoey’s. “We can’t let the studio see this!”
“We can just tell them the truth!” Zoey pleads with her. In the tumble, she has gotten closer and closer to the edge of her bed, and she feels herself wobble.
“Like they will understand! Just delete the posts!”
Rumi switches, no longer attacking Zoey from the front but from the side. She snatches Zoey’s wrist with a triumphant “ha!” her fingers crawling up towards the dead grip Zoey has on her phone.
“Rumi, let go—!”
Something shifts in the weight. Holding on to Rumi had held Zoey in place, despite half her body hanging over the edge. But with Rumi’s shift to the side, there is only Mira tethering them to the bed. And that’s a fight she can’t win from gravity.
Zoey’s eyes grow wide with realisation, but it’s too late. With a yelp they tumble to the floor. Rumi hits the carpet first with a loud thud, immediately followed by Zoey, whose face lands in Rumi’s chest. Her swollen lip throbbing from the impact. Mira unceremoniously flops on top of them, making the sandwich complete.
They all groan in pain. Zoey lifts her face up and her neck cracks.
Yeah, she’s going to feel that in the morning.
Her hand reaches for the ground to stabilize herself, when her gaze falls upon her phone. All color drains from her face. Her screen isn’t black or even a messy draft of random letters and keysmashes. It’s them. Lying on top of each other. Messages and heart emojis pouring in on one side of the screen and on top a red dot with a timer, signalling they are live. Rumi let’s out a loud gasp and Mira instantly reaches for the phone, ending the livestream.
The three girls look at each other, horrified. Quickly, they help each other up and get to their feet. Rumi instantly pulls the sleeves of her hoodie down to smoothen out some wrinkles. Zoey feels some faint scratch marks on her neck and shoulder. Mira’s flushed cheeks match the reddish pink of her hair. Proof enough this isn’t some terrible nightmare.
They huddle together. Mira holding the treacherous phone in her hand. Nobody is making eye contact.
Zoey hunches her shoulders, making herself small. “H-How bad is it?”
Mira swallows and rewinds the short livestream, holding the phone in the middle so they can all see.
It starts way earlier than Zoey fears. They’re still on the bed, when the stream abruptly cuts in. “—fix this by deleting your replies. Now!”
The camera moves up to an awkward bird’s eye view. But it’s enough to see what happens. Rumi moves forward and Zoey dodges her.
“Stop being so stubborn, Zo!”
Rumi shifts closer, an elbow hitting Zoey’s cheek. Then, she hears herself speak up.
“I know! Just let me fix—Rumi!”
There is a certain desperation to her voice when she calls out Rumi’s name. And then… then it gets worse. She watches herself grab Rumi’s hoodie. But instead of pushing her away, Rumi gets pulled closer. Face to face close. And it looks… intimate from this angle. Like, if they weren’t so busy arguing, they could be making out instead.
Mira now joins in on the pile, trying to be the voice of reason. “Guys, stop! Let’s talk first!”
Then a sequence follows Zoey completely missed in the tussle. Mira gets launched forward, her head crashing on top of Rumi’s shoulder.
Rumi, not lessening her grip on Zoey, then slightly tilts her head to address Mira. But she must have miscalculated how close they are, because suddenly they are cheek to cheek.
“We can’t let the studio see this!”
Rumi’s gaze, ever so briefly, drops to Mira’s lips. (Zoey has read enough fanfiction in her life to know how that will be interpreted by fans).
“We can just tell them the truth!”
Zoey clasps a hand in front of her mouth as she hears her own plea. Oh no. This is framed all wrong. Combined with her two earlier posts, it almost sounds like she wants to go public about their romantic entanglement. While Rumi seems too afraid of the repercussions if it ever comes out.
Please, please, please, Zoey begs to herself, let Rumi say something responsible like she always does and clear up this entire mess.
“Like they will understand! Just delete the posts!”
They’re doomed. Utterly and completely doomed. She might as well start packing now. Their songs will drop off the charts. Their fans will be disgusted with them. Soon enough, they will be living on the streets and Gwi-Ma and his demons will be roaming free.
Her attention gets pulled back to the video. Her past self loses grip of the phone and for a few moments the phone tumbles in the air, recording the ceiling. She can hear them yelping, the thud of Rumi’s fall and, because the Honmoon has decided to abandon them completely, the camera lands with a perfect view right at the moment when Zoey’s face splats into Rumi’s boobs.
Mira then falls on top of them, squeezing them together even firmer. There are soft groans—honestly if you close your eyes they could be moans instead—as they slowly try to get out of the awkward position.
There’s a loud gasp as three pairs of eyes stare straight into the camera. Mira’s hand reaches over the lens and with a hard tap the video cuts out.
Her phone cuts to black and a replay button cheerfully pops up. All Zoey sees is their frozen, mortified faces reflecting back in the display.
Wordlessly, Zoey takes her phone from Mira and deletes everything. The accidental live, the two posts from earlier. She hopes, prays, it’s enough to stop whatever chaos will come from it. But deep down, she knows the damage is already done.
She can feel Mira and Rumi holding their breaths, staring at the rectangle of betrayal. Perhaps if they never blink again, the messages won’t come in.
Then, the first notification pops up. And another. And another. Zoey’s heart sinks. She doesn’t even have the stomach to check the messages. She knows. They all do. Somewhere out there, a screen recording of the accidental live is already spreading. Slowly eating away at their fame, and the Honmoon.
They stand frozen for so long, even her screen turns off. Zoey starts trembling and her phone slips out of her hand.
Rumi grabs Zoey by the shoulder on instinct. To keep her standing upright. To protect her. Like a good unnie would.
A hand slips around Zoey’s waist and she knows it’s Mira. She immediately curls into her shoulder and before she knows it she is sobbing. Not loudly, like she expects, but silently. Which makes it so much worse.
She can feel Mira’s head turning in search of Rumi’s gaze. Never beating around the bush, Mira is the one who breaks the silence.
“Well, we’re fucked.”