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Summary
Aether raised his hands defensively, smoothing the atmosphere with a practiced grin. "My agency was really surprised by my male fan base, they really outweigh my female fan base." He ran his fingers through long hair, breath puffing against damp bangs before the gold strands fell perfectly to frame his face again, a cautious reset against the heat clinging to his skin. "But I like men like you, so I don't mind when you guys come say hi."
Scaramouche’s smile widened, but it was the kind that felt like walking into a trap. "Men like me, hm? That’s generous. You don’t know a thing about me." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a slow, deliberate taunt. "But you will. Next time, try harder to impress me. I hate wasting my attention."
he's just an idol until his manager decides he's nothing