STRINGS OF FATE

CHAPTER ELEVEN STRINGS ATTACHED

The studio corridors buzzed with voices, but none of them spoke to Gemini.

As he passed by, he felt it — the subtle shift of eyes. The way trainees paused in conversation when he approached. How a few turned away, whispering behind cupped hands. Even Prim, when she waved from across the training room, looked hesitant.

“Gemini?” she asked, catching up to him near the lockers. “Are you okay?”

He forced a smile. “Just tired.”

She hesitated. “Some of the others said... you were being difficult on set. That you broke down.”

His smile wavered.

“I didn’t... it wasn’t like that.”

She reached out, touching his wrist gently. “I believe you. But something’s going on. Jade posted a cryptic story about a ‘certain someone not being fit for fame.’”

Gemini clenched his jaw.

He didn’t need to guess where it started. Thanawat had said it himself after the screen test — "we’ll handle perception."

Apparently, that meant poisoning the air around him.

He had gone from rising star to outcast in 48 hours. Not through mistakes, but by design.

Meanwhile, in a small café tucked behind Sukhumvit, Nani sat across from a man in a hoodie and sunglasses, his hands trembling as he stirred his untouched coffee.

Korn.

Up close, he looked older than his years. Faded bruises beneath his eyes, lips chapped, voice raspy from disuse.

“I shouldn’t be talking to you,” he whispered.

“You don’t owe him anything,” Nani said firmly. “But Gemini’s next. If you don’t speak, he’ll be destroyed like you were.”

Korn’s hand froze on the table.

“You don’t know what Thanawat’s like,” he muttered. “He starts soft. Gentle. Makes you believe he’s your savior. Then… one by one, he cuts away everything that makes you you.”

His voice cracked.

“He took my phone. Controlled my meals. Changed my face, my smile, my name. I couldn’t contact my family for months. And when I tried to walk away…” He pulled his sleeve up, revealing a faint scar on his arm. “He said if I ever spoke out, I’d never sing again.”

Nani leaned forward, voice quiet but deadly. “He won’t hurt you anymore. I’ll make sure of it. But I need everything. Proof. Recordings. Messages. Contracts.”

Korn stared at her for a long time. Then he reached into his bag.

“I kept copies,” he whispered. “For me. I didn’t want to forget who I was.”

Back at SunMoon, Gemini sat alone on the stairwell between dance and vocal floors, knees drawn to his chest. His phone buzzed beside him — messages from fans asking why he was so distant lately. Demands to smile more. Rumors he was “difficult” to work with.

He didn’t reply to any of them.

His fingers hovered over Prim’s name… then pulled back.

He couldn’t drag her deeper into this.

Thanawat wanted him isolated. Weak. Dependent.

A puppet.

And if he wasn’t careful, he’d start to believe the strings were his own skin.

Above it all, Fourth stood at his office window, reviewing an email forwarded by Nani.

Subject: Korn’s Evidence.

Attachments: Video. Audio. Screenshots. Legal contract scans.

Fourth’s jaw tightened.

Thanawat had made a mistake.

He’d taken something that belonged to Fourth now.

And Fourth didn’t share.