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JUST IN: The New ηUMa x Van Cleef & Arpels Spring Collection 2026
Alkaid promises you that you're the first girl he's ever brought to the beach. Statistically, you think it's a fat lie, especially considering you’re just a bodyguard.
That particular evening started with a drizzle, with the weeping sky blending the orange sunset into dusky blue. At six thirty, you were carrying an umbrella over Alkaid when you exited the photoshoot studio together and walked him to the car, but he had stopped in his tracks just before you could touch the handle. Turning to you with a smile that only spells mischief, he asked if you wanted to escape for a little.
It’s not in your job description to say no to him. Even so, you weren’t all that reluctant when you gave in and threw the umbrella in the car, before chasing him to the beach through the rain.
The beach he led both of you to is currently sparse of people, since winter had just only ended and the evening wind is cold enough to give you regrets about stepping out the house. Alkaid must’ve seen your slightly shivering form, because he sheds his own coat to drape it over your figure.
“Very helpful,” you deadpan at him, despite the flush in your cheeks for numerous reasons, “to wrap an already wet coat around me like it’ll be warmer.”
He only grins and caresses your wet, clumpy hair before lowering his hand to clasp yours.
As he slowly walks you closer to the shore, the searing warmth in between your joined hands reminds you of how affectionate Alkaid has always been with you. The golden McGrath boy, cherished son of legendary actress Tammy McGrath, owns a sweet disposition that everyone who has worked with him had the pleasure of receiving. You don’t think there’s ever been a moment when Alkaid lost his gentleness or amicability, and yet the sheer amount of physical affection he gives to you is a topic that stands out among the buzz and gossip of his backstage studio. Rumor has it that he personally chose you as his bodyguard, or that he’d been searching for you before you were hired, or… something silly-sounding like a YA romance book.
To the credit of those rumors, you really haven’t caught Alkaid touching anyone else besides you. Every time you’ve tried to probe him about it, he just gives you a pleasant smile and changes the topic, like a fox slinking away from a trap.
You’ve kicked off your shoes next to his before you even know it, and now you’re standing in an almost-moonlit backdrop with the sea kissing your bare toes with a rhythm only they know. The drizzle has let up, but your damp hair and clothing still have yet to dry. Alkaid gently swings your joined hands back and forth, humming an unrecognisable melody while watching the sea swallow up the last of the sun.
“ ‘S the beach giving you any inspiration, McGrath?” You tease, turning your gaze slightly toward him. “That’s a new song I haven’t heard.”
Alkaid looks up, down, humming a few more notes before looking you directly in the eyes. “...Something like that.”
You miss the warmth of his hand as he lets go, but you play it off by frolicking alone in the water.
The sea has completely swallowed up the sun, leaving behind an onyx night sky. Time passes quickly, but it feels like mere seconds as the sea playfully darts between your feet like a game of tag, distracting you from any dangerous thoughts about your position as Alkaid’s personal bodyguard. You commit to twirling along the shore like the regal princesses you saw in your childhood stories, letting Alkaid’s big coat around you flap like an imaginary dress. If Alkaid brought you both to the beach to unwind, then you’ll make the most out of it and shed your responsibilities for just an hour more.
A sharp shutter sound breaks your reverie, and you whip your head up to see a camera lens pointing directly at you.
Alkaid lowers the camera, gazing at the photo he just captured with an undiscernible look in his eyes. You pad your way toward him, slightly embarrassed of your prior dreamlike trance, but he looks up at you with the stars in the night sky reflected in his emerald eyes.
“Can I see?” you dare to ask shyly.
His eyes flit back and forth between you and the image captured, before he gingerly closes the flap and shakes his head like it’s nothing.
“It’s nothing,” he confirms.
Even with the fond smile on his face, you feel your own smile tightening, the reality of your position returning to you like you’d settled into a cold bath.
“Yeah,” you halfheartedly agree, and turn away to pick up your shoes. “Nothing.”
You walk to create distance from him, wrapping his coat tighter around yourself. The sight of your trusty, worn out black slacks next to his old money custom-made YSL laying carelessly on the sand together only serve to remind you of your place.
Alkaid McGrath is a celebrity. Under stage name ‘ηUMa’, he’s done countless songs in the alternative genre that went massive and earned him millions. Some argue that he’s a nepotism beneficiary. Others argue that his pretty, golden boy looks catalysed his skyrocketing fame. No one argues about his musical talent or star presence.
And you’re just a bodyguard.
“And she walks down
I noticed how she does it for real now
And she talks loud
She's telling me what I wanna hear now
Is it real now?”
— η UMa, “the start”
What's Poppin’? Harp Island Show - Episode March 2026
For the first time, at a fan exclusive panel event, you hear news in public before you hear them in private.
The event was only meant to be an exclusive release of first-drafts, unreleased songs, and detailed runthroughs of his songmaking process. Which he did do, that’s not to be mistaken. Although with the way his fangirls gaze at him like they’re parched and he’s an oasis, you kind of doubt they’re paying fullest attention to what he’s actually saying.
Perhaps the rough technicalities of song production can sound like dirty talk if they come from a pretty boy’s mouth. Considering today’s superficial society, it’s not an unrealistic motion.
It’s actually towards the end of the event when he drops a surprise you’re hearing for the first time: “... and I actually have a new song planned sometime next month.”
The shrieks and cheers from the crowd are utterly predictable, but you’re unfazed by the noise, choosing to stare at him in shock from your hidden position backstage.
“Wow, what a surprise!” the moderator chortles, clearly not expecting it either. “There hasn’t been any signs of a new song release from your end, so how did you come to this decision?”
“To be honest, I’m actually announcing this for the first time in public without permission,” he smiles like a fairytale prince, drawing louder screams from the audience, “My publicity team will be rather upset with me when I return. Most of them don’t even know about the song.”
“Hahaha, oh goodness! Alkaid’s publicity team, if you’re seeing this, I’m very sorry for the blood pressure spike~”
The back-and-forth continues with him playfully dodging any questions about the upcoming secret single, while you watch from the dark backstage, letting the news churn in your mind. Usually, although you’re technically not part of his musical team, you are his personal bodyguard, and you’ve always been among the first to know if he’s producing anything. A part of you wilts at the betrayal, even though it isn’t really betrayal, even though your job scope has nothing to do with the musical aspects of his occupation.
You barely hear the end of a question by the mousey moderator that goes, “...Is there any inspiration behind it? Come on, your fans are starving right here!”
Your eyes flit up to his distant figure, and you flinch at the gaze that returns.
From your hidden position to where he’s seated comfortably on stage, it’d take you only fifteen steps or so to reach him. There’s absolutely nothing in front of you (since as his bodyguard you require a clear path toward him should something happen) so it’s unmistakable that he’s looking at you, but even so, it’s surprising that he managed to find the exact direction where you stand in the dark backstage. In that moment, the cheers of the crowd fade into white noise, your head swims in cotton, and goosebumps bloom across your covered skin.
The corner of his lips turn up, sending you a smile that feels like a secret only you can decipher. Then, he picks up the microphone and murmurs, “Just a girl I like very, very much.”
Immediately, the crowd launches into another round of scream and cheer, excited at the uncharacteristic elusiveness of their idol. But on your end, Alkaid’s words reverberate in your system, sending an unpleasant shiver down your spine.
That fifteen-step distance starts to feel like an ocean.
Later that afternoon, during the drive home, he’s silent in thought with an arm propped up on the window. You’re seated on the other end of the backseat, hands clenched and posture tenser than usual. Nothing has ever escaped the observant Alkaid, not when it comes to you, so he obviously asks if you’re okay, to which you callously shrug.
“It’s nothing,” you repeat to him his words from the beach that night. Alkaid doesn’t pursue, but he keeps his knowing gaze trained on you.
It’s nothing, you repeat to yourself tonight, before you slumber and dream of emerald eyes.
ηUMa updates✅
@alkaidcharts
[image]
Alkaid announces an upcoming 6th studio single today at the What’s Poppin’? Harp Island Show.
Most relevant replies
Cloud ☁️ ηUMa’s angel @huajiaverse
OHHHH MY GOD WAKE UP URSAMINORS WE’RE GETTING FED [image]
cael’s wifey ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ @mrsanselm
LETS GOOOOO!!!!! [gif]
Savannah @savannahhh
Ayn solos
athy!! ✰ huayn endgame @lovebrushedworlds
my princess Stop schizoposting and come back to bed also . huajia solos😘
Cloud ☁️ ηUMa’s angel @huajiaverse
Can you two get out omg this is monumental for us Ursaminors
athy!! ✰ huayn endgame @lovebrushedworlds
son i’m crine 😭😭😭 imagine having ‘minors’ in ur fan name 😭😭😭 common alkaid L queenjia could never 😭😭😭 imaging glazing alkaid with huajia in ur usertag
katsudon @hotricebowlsoup
couldn’t the author of this fic have chosen a better fanname for alkaid…
Savannah @savannahhh
Ok now imagine if the single is about his secret situationship whom he’ll debut with the song and we find out they are star-crossed but forbidden lovers and we witness their entire love story on Twitter as they breakup and makeup
athy!! ✰ huayn endgame @lovebrushedworlds
my love. my universe. for the last time, PUT that phone down and COME BACK TO BED
It feels like an eternity has passed before the secret single finally releases from Alkaid’s grasp.
Despite the lack of teasers (apart from the only tweet that he left, and you quote, “friday 9pm gmt8” which sent stan Twitter into a frenzy), the world is geared up for its streaming debut. Forums and social media spaces are flooded with excitement and theories about the sudden announcement, immediately launching Alkaid’s name back into the trending mainstream. Curiosity toward the secret single is at an all time high considering the absolute lack of any lyric leak, visuals, or even a clue about its aesthetic. Somehow, the lack of publicity was successful publicity itself.
Admittedly, you were just as curious as the loyal Alkaid fans about the new single, with the clock on your wall diligently counting down the minutes to 9. You pretend you’re not glancing over at it to check the time every 30 seconds, even though the stiff tick-tocking that echoes throughout your quiet apartment reflects the thudding heartbeat in your chest.
You don’t know why you’re so nervous. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around to support Alkaid’s songs right at release hour, but something about the upcoming secret single bugs you. The accumulation of his recent elusiveness towards you, as well as the oddly tender looks he gives you with increasing frequency, only further unsettles you as you eagerly await the single release. With zero expectations to begin with, you have no idea how you’ll react when you hear it for the first time.
Anyway, there’s still a few more minutes to 9. Sitting around and glaring at the clock won’t make it faster, so you decide to doomscroll, getting caught up on the latest celebrity drama and looking at fans’ predictions about the single.
You’re preoccupied with a video involving an adorable ragdoll kitty when your phone buzzes non-stop. When you check, it’s just text after frantic text from your best friend.
Naledi baby💗
>bro
>brfo
>brp
>BRO
>WHAT THE FUCK
>IS THAT ALBUM COVER
>BABE. IS THAT YOU??????
You have half a mind to scold her for overreacting in your DMs, so you formulate your response in your head while pulling up the newly released single.
The sight of the single’s cover brings your train of thought to an abrupt halt.
Against a familiar beachy backdrop stands one girl in the centre; her untied wet hair mussed by the wind, billowed across an onyx night sky. A singular star can be seen in the twilight background, and you just know it’s Alkaid’s namesake, because such a detail is an exclusively Alkaid thing to capture. The girl’s face isn’t shown, but from her whimsical pose alone, anyone can tell without seeing her smile that she’s enjoying herself.
It’s undoubtedly the picture Alkaid took of you when you were unguarded at the beach, the one he refused to let you see.
You stare and stare and stare until your phone falls onto the table with a clatter, hands shaking and head spinning. The heart in your chest beats loud, beats fast, as if playing a melody by itself. The single has yet to start playing, but every nerve in your body is set alight.
It’s you. It’s definitely you. The beautiful faceless girl in the cover, the one lovingly captured in film as Alkaid’s muse, is you.
“The reminders that you left on my neck
(Keep me closer to you)
And your heart beats with every breath
(You know that I'll be back soon)
You look so cold standing on your own
Can I sleep here 'cause we're all alone?
I've never seen you look so good, no”
— ηUMa, “garden”
Harp Island Times: Alkaid McGrath attacked outside his apartment by a fan
Unfortunately for you, there’s no time to ride the high of being the one and only muse of Alkaid’s new single. Because before you could even confront him about it, a parasocial fan beats you to the punch.
Fortunately for you, the crux of the crisis has already been averted when you arrive. Three police cars and an ambulance line the avenue driveway, with the supposed aggressor pinned to the ground by several policemen. The overstimulating flashes of blue and red across the night sky do nothing to calm you even after you’re told that a slightly injured Alkaid is otherwise safe and sound inside his apartment.
When you walk past the pile of policemen toward his apartment door, you shoot a dirty glance at the deranged woman behind tonight’s chaos. Even while being cuffed and manhandled, she continues to screech like a parakeet.
“How dare he! How dare she!” she wails, thrashing around in the policemen’s grip. The shrillness of it pierces your ears and forms a budding headache in you. “He’s mine! He’s mine! There’s an ugly hag who stole my man!” You don’t stay to watch her be escorted away, for you have more pressing matters. You walk away as if her scathing words, however delusional, aren’t echoing in your head like a broken record.
Inside his apartment, your heart breaks at the sight of bandages on his arm and cuts on his cheek. A small group of medics who tend to him regard you with suspicion, until he assures them that you’re his personal bodyguard and an authorised personnel (to which you think they glare at you even harder, understandably). The closest paramedic to him begrudgingly makes way as you kneel by his armchair, your trembling hands cupping his injured arm.
“Please don’t blame yourself,” he quickly assures you, his voice gentle and steady and feeling like home. “You couldn’t have known. I didn’t think it would turn out like this.”
“But that’s what I’m here for!” you almost yell back, voice cracking in your devastation. “I’m your bodyguard, I’m supposed to protect you from unknown dangers like these! I should’ve never…”
He raises his uninjured hand, caressing your cheek with so much forgiveness and so much intimacy that a tear involuntarily escapes you. As his thumb swipes that stray tear away, he continues, “You’re here now.”
You sniffle.
“You made it to me in time.”
You shake your head, a stream falling from your eyes after the first tear did.
“No one will hurt me again now that you’re here.”
Amidst your blurry vision, you glare and glare at his bandaged arm like every injury of his was physically stinging your skin instead. Ironically, you wished that were the case instead. Oh, what you would give to take every cut and bruise on Alkaid’s delicate skin, double it, and put it on yours in his stead.
Alkaid has done nothing but show you undeserved kindness. You’re the subordinate to a prominent celebrity, and you work in an industry where it’s entirely normal to be treated as no better than the dumpsters in the slums. Because in the most fundamental sense of your line of work, you’re a glorified human meat shield whose life is second to your employer.
You spent years after being orphaned training your body for survival, and all you’ve ever known is dances with death and the ugliest faces of humanity. It’s already a miracle that you were scouted to be a client's requested bodyguard, let alone be the personal bodyguard to a big name celebrity riding the highs of his stardom. True to your job, you started out rough around the edges and strictly professional in bodyguard work, until Alkaid McGrath’s incessant attempts to crack your shell of blades wore you down over the years.
How have you turned so soft for this man, to the point of tears when he got hurt?
With trembling hands and a wavering voice, you insist on putting the plaster on the cut on Alkaid’s cheek. As he turns his head to give you a better angle, you press the tape down on his cheek with scarred fingers and the gentleness of a feather.
“I’m sorry.”
You’re just a bodyguard, and Alkaid’s a golden boy celebrity with a brand new single to celebrate.
“I’m sorry…”
You’re just a bodyguard who got lucky with a kind employer, and you think that somehow makes you worthy of his care.
“I’m… so sorry…”
You’re just a bodyguard, and you can’t even do your goddamn job right.
The following apologies that spill out of your mouth feel worthless and empty, reflecting the state of a broken husk which you currently embody. Even with the concern and regret that radiates from Alkaid’s soothing touch on your cheeks, you can’t even begin to pretend that they feel sincere to you. Because if you get to the core of the problem, wasn’t it your fault for getting all cozy and complacent with pop culture’s beloved golden boy and putting his life on the line?
Drowning in turmoil, you stay the night at his place after the paramedics and policemen leave. You’re inseparable from his bedside, savouring the last of your allowed metaphorical and literal place next to him.
If Alkaid still remains disillusioned that you are trustworthy after tonight’s fault, then you’ll have to teach him that all you’ve ever been, and should always be, is nothing.
[Text Log - 24/04/2025 19:43]
Naledi baby💗
>ok so like
>if im not getting this wrong
>ALKAID ηUMa MCGRATH himself is bringing you, his BODYGUARD, out to dinners and it’s in a date way
You
>Ugh
>Not a date way
>He said can’t starve his bodyguard when I refused
Naledi baby💗
>yes cos taylor swift and bruno mars also go on 1on1 dinners to expensive italian restaurants to feed their employees
>GIRL …
>he gifted u a $8k van cleef and throws compliments at u daily like confetti
>i have 0 doubt that this man is head over heels for u
You
>Naledi wake up from your real person fanfiction this is bloody fucking Alkaid McGrath we are talking about
>Son of actress Tammy McGrath??? Nepo baby??? Born with a silver spoon and diamond diapers???
>I just got really lucky with him as an employer and it’s blasphemy for me to try and be any closer than a bodyguard
Naledi baby💗
>babe this isn’t bridgerton we are in 2025
>just admit ur a WUSS!!!
>actually u know what. i’m blocking u until u come back and tell me he likes u and u like him back
Billboard Hot 100™:
- garden by ηUMa (LW 2, Peak 1, Weeks 3)
Today marks the first day you go to Alkaid’s apartment without prompt, despite having been trusted with a spare key years ago.
When you pad into his living room, the man of the hour greets you by dozing off on his couch, blissfully unconscious of the world around him. Late afternoon sun filters through the partially closed velvet curtains, shining a golden ray through the cosy room and landing on Alkaid. Under the sunlight, his blonde hair shimmers like the pure gold you’ve never been able to afford, and it makes you stop in your tracks and wonder if he’d been replaced by an angel in this exact moment.
His long eyelashes tremble when you approach, grazing his skin like a dragonfly kissing the water’s surface. His every soft breath he takes feels like something precious and delicate you could shatter with those calloused hands of yours. His ethereal appearance, however much it persuades you to reconsider, only further fuels your current motive for being here. Regrettably, you tap him awake from his well deserved rest, but the bleary smile he gives when he opens his eyes and sees you is an act of otherworldly beauty itself.
Then, he reaches out and pulls you onto his lap with a strength that rivals your own.
Your hands instinctively land on his chest when you fall, and you flush at the surprise of hardened muscles normally hidden beneath thick baggy clothing. Before you can even think about escaping, his arms deftly cage you in, keeping you on top of him with a secret strength he rarely reveals to anyone. He ignores all your squirming and grunting with a sly smile on his face that speaks no good.
It’s not like you thought he was defenseless, you knew he’d always been built to some extent… just not this built.
“Waking me from my slumber…” he whispers directly into your ear, deliberately flustering you further, “I didn’t know my own bodyguard was this sneaky with me.”
“It wasn’t meant to be sneaky,” you nearly whine, embarrassed at your compromising position, “I came over to congratulate you for the success of ‘garden’. I heard it topped several billboards globally, so…”
“It’s not like you to do that,” he gives you an all too innocent grin and nuzzles into your neck. You’re very, very sure it’s as flushed as the velvet curtains right now. “But I’ll take any compliment you give me, Miss Bodyguard.”
The silence of the room would’ve convinced you that today is a peaceful day if you weren’t still caged on top of Alkaid McGrath while he’s lying on the couch. Despite that, from the way he hums and breathes in the scent of your hair, he seems more than content in his current predicament.
This is far from how a celebrity and his bodyguard should behave, no???
To your dismay, your body gradually loses tension by the minute and you’re sinking into his touch before you can stop it. Without a clock in sight, you measure time spent trapped in Alkaid’s arms by the darkening of orange light filtering into the room, which goes by like nothing when the object of your unworthy desires is cradling you in his arms like you stand a chance to be his precious lover.
Which. Well. Not very possible as a bodyguard, you keep reminding yourself, even though Alkaid himself explicitly confirmed over text last week that it is indeed you in the album cover, that it is indeed you whom he wrote the song for.
“If you keep thinking any louder I’m going to hear all your thoughts,” he jokes and pokes at your scalp. Affection seeps into his voice, and you feel the beginning of a conversation you know will haunt you forever. “I wrote ‘garden’ for you. If anything, I should thank you for being a beautiful muse.”
“Al… McGrath, you have to stop jesting.”
Two warm hands cup your cheeks and pull your face slightly away from his, and you startle at the frown upon his beautiful face.
“I must be honest with you then.”
His glassy eyes shine with unshed tears, and he looks so pitiful beneath you, and it makes you feel unbearably guilty for being the cause of a pretty boy’s tears. In this moment, this little world with only you and him in it, you get consumed by the abyss of his emerald gaze and you wonder if this is akin to how sailors fall victim to sirens. Then again, it’s not just this particular instance; you’ve always never been strong enough to reject Alkaid.
“You’re the only one I think about day and night,” he whispers, like a hushed secret not meant to escape beyond this world with only him and you. Your face tilts so close to his that he can breathe in all of the shudder you exhale from his confession. Every point of contact between you two burns on your skin, feeling like a blessing bestowed and a punishment for sin simultaneously.
“When you rescued me from the snow under the Northern Lights three years ago, I fell in love with you for the first time. When I was asked to pick a personal bodyguard after that incident, I threw tantrums and refused to work unless it was you they gave me.”
His head dips to press a fleeting, but sensual kiss on your neck. You gasp, unsure if it’s because of the groundbreaking reveal of your employment or the press of hot lips on your skin.
“When I saw you again on your first day as my bodyguard, I fell in love with you once more.”
His hand strokes the back of your scalp, slowly combing through the strands of your hair. With gentle firmness he pulls your head up to meet his gaze, the sheer vulnerability and desire in them filling your heart with a searing warmth that brings tears to prick at the corner of your eyes.
Cautiously, his eyes flit down to your lips, and return back up with a wordless plea. He doesn’t need to say it aloud for you to understand. Swallowing any remaining cowardice down, you plead forgiveness from every god and every king before you give in to greed and press your lips to his.
It tastes like heaven on the inside. In between weighted breaths, he murmurs your name and it has never sounded more right on anyone’s tongue. There is a stark difference between his smooth lips, clearly softened by expensive balm, as compared to your chapped lips neglected of care after years of bodyguard work. You would’ve visibly cringed and pulled away, if not for Alkaid pulling your lip between his teeth and crashing back into you like a starved man.
The living room sees the orange sunset blend into dusky blue, mirroring the change of colors you witnessed that night on the beach.
A featherlight brush to your sensitive hip makes you jolt, and the foxy guy beneath you all but chuckles into the kiss. His warm hands sneak beneath your top, thumb tracing the line where the hem of your jeans meets bare, flushed skin, to which you indignantly retaliate by dragging your finger down his sculpted torso if only to draw out strangled noises from his pretty mouth.
“I love you to the point I’m worried I love you more than myself.”
Even as both your actions tether into frisky intentions and clothing starts to get pushed aside, you find you cannot stop the onslaught of tears dripping from your face onto his.
“I love you more than I know what to do with.”
And oh, you can only weep harder into his kisses because how dare you think yourself deserving of such selfless, priceless love.
You don’t dare to let your mouth run right here and now lest you ruin everything like you always do. Instead, you indulge in Alkaid’s and your shared desire this evening, letting him kiss you where he wants to, touch you when he wants to, and whisper a secret language with his actions that only you can decipher in this moment with him. Tonight, you’ll be selfish for the last time, and then your unworthy presence won’t taint his life anymore.
You let yourself stay trapped in his arms, in his couch, in his house well past sunset and well past midnight. And you pretend that your heart doesn’t break with every passing hour at the thought of this being your first and last night with him.
Alkaid wakes up in an empty living room. The blanket shielding his bare torso fails to replicate the warmth of another human who had left hours ago.
Laid on the coffee table are three items. The sight of each item slams into Alkaid like a freight train at mach speed, leaving cold dread and nausea overtaking his body.
One of them is an apartment key.
One of them is a Van Cleef bracelet worth eight thousand dollars.
One of them is a Termination of Contract with your signature scrawled on it.
ηUMa ✅ @alkaid319
p
where are you?
(This post has been deleted.)
ηUMa ✅ @alkaid319
im wwaitgn
(This post has been deleted.)
ηUMa ✅ @alkaid319
come bcack to mme. i lovey iu
(This post has been deleted.)
katsudon @hotricebowlsoup
ALKAID!!!!!!!! YOURE ON MAIN💀
ηUMa ✅ @alkaid319
I apologise for my behaviour yesterday. I was drunk.
Also, I don’t condone harassment against me or others because you can’t accept the love of my life being on the cover of ‘garden’. You are no fan of mine.
(10k Reposts, 89k Likes, 5.6k Comments)
The Shelter: Alkaid McGrath rumoured to have been injured during trip to Northern Lights
In December of 2023, Alkaid had trekked all the way to capture the radiant auroras, but overestimated himself and fainted a few hours in. The snow he found himself buried in was soft and chilling, and even with vertigo taking over his body, it felt almost bittersweet and welcoming, and dying there was almost akin to coming home.
While barely managing to hold onto the last tethers of his consciousness, he saw you for the first time, appearing like a heaven sent angel to his rescue.
You had aided him in the snow, stayed next to a stranger until he was well again. He remembers your words to him full of snark and biting, but the hands that tended to him were gentle and warm. That day, Alkaid had nearly cried from the feeling of being cared for without any expectation of obligatory favors or benefits, not uncommon in the industry he temporarily escaped from this winter trip.
You could’ve left as soon as you were sure he was well enough to continue on his own, but still, you indulged him in small talk, and it was the biggest breath of fresh air he’d had in a while. He laid his heavy gaze on your face, filing away any crumbs of your information in his head like evidence to be used later. When you laughed after he mentioned he had come all this way just to capture pictures of the aurora, he’d memorised the contours and smile lines of your face, and when you kept your eyes focused on the shimmering Northern Lights, he found his gaze distracted by a girl much more beautiful.
Tammy McGrath had no idea what to do when her son returned home with one name on his tongue, one face to match it, and one mission to leave no stone unturned to find one girl.
Despite being presented with the highest of quality bodyguards, mercenaries, and other substitutes who would excel in the job, she had never seen Alkaid act more stubborn, more coldhearted toward his team, and with all the incessant demands he was making for them to find this specific girl, he was starting to sound like a broken record.
When Tammy confronted him about his uncharacteristic childishness, her face was solemn, but not upset, and perhaps held a hint of acceptance, as if she had already expected this decision to be made by her own son. After all, she herself knew the significance of finding the one person whom you can physically feel deep in your bones is the one you’ll be with for the rest of your life.
When Tammy gives her son classified information to assist his search, she thinks of it as a genuine motherly favor she’d rarely been able to give ever since their entire family got thrown and entangled in stardom. She believes it her fault Alkaid had never known a normal life, never known a world outside of toxicity and performance.
When Tammy sees the bright smile return to Alkaid’s face as you are introduced to him as his bodyguard, she allows some of her guilt to be reprieved, knowing her son will be truer to himself in your hands more than he ever was in hers.
“You need to get your shit together.”
“Lovely morning to you too, Naledi.” You drawl, then pause and turn to her. “How’d you get in my house?”
“Ugh, does it matter?” She struts over to where you’re laying on your bed, plopping herself next to you like she owns the place. “I have a better question to ask you. Why is Alkaid McGrath losing his marbles on Twitter dot com, and why are you far away from him?”
You roll your eyes, pretending you amongst millions of Twitter users didn’t see the tweet he posted about the “love of his life” being on the cover of ‘garden’. Who is you, by the way. Too bad there are two people in the world you cannot fool, and since Alkaid is not physically in this room, your best friend and pillar Naledi is left to pick at the cracks of your shell.
“I love you, but I can’t believe I have to hear about his drunken yearning on Twitter of all places and deduce the fact that you somehow fell out with him by myself…” she sighs, fondly combing your hair like the mother you lost years ago. “Were you planning to never tell me, and just keep rotting away in your home?”
The clock in your little apartment fills the silence, its rhythmical ticking accompanying the rustle of trees outside your window. Late morning sun completely illuminates your room, its glare harsh and blinding, like a divine punishment sent especially for you.
“Naledi,” you whisper, clutching the hem of her blouse, “I think Alkaid loves me very, very much.”
“I think so too, sweetie.”
“But Naledi,” you continue, hiding your face in your sheets, “I’m his bodyguard. His subordinate. He already got hurt once because I assumed a place next to him, and… and yet… Naledi, how could someone like me possibly be selfish and accept his love?”
Your verbalised insecurities ruminate in the peaceful air of your abode, and Naledi wordlessly eases you up into a sitting position across her.
“If you ask me, I think you’re already being selfish.”
With a patient tone, she caresses your hands and smiles at you without judgement. “How could you listen to his heartfelt confession and run away without an answer? What makes you think you can decide who he should love or how he should love, and make that decision for him without his input?”
She continues when you hesitantly meet her gaze. “I think humans have always been inherently selfish in every choice we make. Don’t dwell on your own selfishness, and throw a pity party for one. Because from what I see, Alkaid’s plenty selfish himself in his want for you.”
“But wouldn’t it be scandalous for him? I mean, an A-list celebrity publicly dating his bodyguard of all people… you don’t think we’d be wrong?”
Naledi giggles and boops your nose lovingly, “When have you ever been the cowardly type to conform to societal standards?”
You helplessly crumple in her arms, her words reverberating in your head, giving you marginal courage to attempt to right your wrongs. In your best friend’s embrace, time dances like a slow waltz, with every affectionate squeeze of her hand on your arms sending a warm rush into your veins that speak volumes of her empathy and support.
After a few beats of laying against her, she presses cool metal into your hands. When you unfurl them, it’s Alkaid’s humble apartment key staring back at you.
“He somehow found out who I was, and trusted me with the mission of returning this to you.” she admits, sheepishly smiling at your bewilderment. “Call me complicit in his scheme, but… I really do want to see you happy and I know it’s with him.”
Emotions run amok in your system, and you stare at the key with your mouth hanging open but no words falling out.
Instead of coming over to retrieve you himself, he trusts you with the key to his home once more, giving you the unspoken chance to reach out and infiltrate his safe zone at any time you feel comfortable enough to do so. Alkaid’s way of prioritising your free will is so utterly, so laughably Alkaid, and the revelation makes you unsure if you want to punch or kiss that man stupid.
Maybe you’ll do both when you find him again.
“You're talking in and out of the subject
Just call me when you're finished, are you done yet, girl?
You're falling in and out through a sunset, oh
And I just wanna know if you're in love yet, girl”
— ηUMa, “my end”
Perhaps it’s only fitting that you find him on a certain beach instead of his apartment. You took a detour going to his place, choosing to stop for symbolic scenery, but it seems he had the same mindset as you did.
Coincidentally, it’s six thirty once again, the sky’s blend of orange sunset and dusky blue seemingly a recurring theme in your several rendezvous with Alkaid. He doesn’t immediately look your way when you approach where he stands on the sand, but you can tell he could feel you coming.
When Alkaid finally turns to look at you, your mouth stitches shut at the look of frustration and yearning etched on his flawless face.
You don’t think he wants to speak either, seeing as he closes the gap between you, raising his hand to wordlessly ask for yours. When you place it in his, he gently wraps slender fingers around your wrist, thumbing the skin where your pulse hides beneath with the utmost carefulness.
Then, from his coat pocket, his other hand pulls out a familiar Van Cleef bracelet.
The coolness of rose gold and white mother-of-pearl as it is painstakingly wrapped around your wrist stings you where it touches you, and as much as you want Alkaid to hurry up and clasp the bracelet and be done with it, you know your body relishes in the way his fingers slowly, intentionally brush against your skin just to feel you for longer. He takes his sweet time with the action, fiddling with the clasp for so long that you suspect he’s not closing it properly on purpose.
“There were countless thoughts running through my head before you came,” he finally speaks to you, usual gentle voice exchanged for something hardened. “Among them were questions, like “How terrible of a man could I have been to make you feel this undeserving of my affection?” and “What do I do if she never wants to see me again?”. I found… that I didn’t like the answers I had to many of them.
It has never been my intention to make you feel any inferior to me, no matter how you might think otherwise. I know our circumstances can’t be easily brushed aside with the naive motion of ‘love’... but it hurt me a lot that you chose running away as an option before actually talking it out with me.”
After prolonged stalling, he finally clasps the bracelet securely, reluctantly letting go of your wrist. Even so, his hands still hover near, fingers merely a hair’s breath away such that you can still feel the warmth radiating from them.
“You believe you are just my bodyguard. However, from the moment you saved me in the snow that day, I wanted my fate to be intertwined with yours forever. I must confess that I have used less than… acceptable means to bring you to my side. I wished to continue to do that, without your knowledge, but the thought of my selfish actions somehow chaining you to a future you didn’t choose was nauseating to me.”
Alkaid’s eyes remain trained on your bracelet, as if afraid to meet yours.
“Tell me now. Forget your status, forget my status, and tell me you hate the thought of spending the rest of your life with me. Tell me right now that I have been a terrible employer and you want to be something greater than just a bodyguard and you want me to let you go, but don’t you dare tell me your presence is inferior and you don’t deserve more than basic kindness because you fail to see how radiant you are in my eyes.”
“Do you not worry about your image?” you finally voice out, feeling small compared to his grand confession. “Your reputation, the music empire you’ve achieved… won’t it crumble if people know you let me in?”
He smiles bitterly at your question, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in tightly. “You’re my bodyguard, you’ve protected me for so long. Will you let me be the one to protect you this once?”
Alkaid can’t promise backlash won’t happen, you both know that much. No future is certain. Nothing is definite, not you and him.
The orange sunset fully fades away to dusky blue. The waves gently crash against each other, and seagulls squawk in the distance. When you look out at the ocean beside you, your eyes trail far, far, far away in order to see the line where the sky meets the sea. In comparison, your ear is pressed against Alkaid’s pounding heart, your billowed hair entangles with his, and you are wholly enveloped in his scent. When he looks down into your eyes, you have never seen a clearer shade of emerald green.
The distance between you two has never been an ocean. You have full permission to come up close and ruin his life, and it will all be on your own terms.
“Alkaid,” you decide to give him a proper answer, and he looks at you like you hung the moon. “May I punch you?”
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[image]
Alkaid features his bodyguard in the cover for his 7th studio single, ‘my end’.
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