STOLEN GLANCES

EPISODE NINE

QUIET STRENGTH

The rehearsal had been long and grueling. Noah could feel the weight of exhaustion settling in as he dragged himself off the stage, still haunted by the pressure to be perfect. His team was already moving ahead with the next set of tasks, but he felt the need to escape, even if just for a moment.

He walked into the quieter corner of the building where Ethan had set up his usual spot, a space that felt like a second home. Ethan was seated at a table, reviewing some paperwork, but when he noticed Noah's tired stride, he immediately put it aside.

“Long day?” Ethan asked, his voice unusually gentle, his tone shifting to something softer than the usual professional façade.

Noah didn’t respond right away. Instead, he let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. It’s just... a lot sometimes," he admitted, his voice carrying a weight he didn’t often show. "The performances, the interviews. I know it’s what I signed up for, but... it feels like I’m always on edge. Like I’m constantly expected to be more, to give more." He finally met Ethan’s eyes, his expression raw. "I don’t know how to shut it off. I’m always 'on,' you know?"

Ethan set the papers aside and leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. “You don’t have to carry all of that alone.”

Noah looked away for a moment, his throat tight. "I don’t want to burden anyone with it. You’ve got your own stuff to deal with. I just... I don’t know how to take a step back sometimes."

Ethan didn’t say anything for a moment, letting the silence settle between them. Then, with a small sigh, he stood up and walked over to Noah. “I get it. It’s tough. But you’ve got me, Noah. You always have.”

Noah looked up at him, a quiet gratitude flickering in his eyes. He wanted to say more, but the words felt too heavy. Instead, he just nodded, appreciating the simplicity of Ethan’s presence.

---

Later that evening, as they headed to the waiting car, Ethan turned to Noah with a sly grin, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Ethan asked, his voice playful, as if trying to lift Noah’s spirits.

Noah chuckled, the sound lighter than it had been in days. “How could I forget? You were the one who almost got me kicked out of my first rehearsal because you didn’t stop talking during my performance.”

Ethan feigned offense. “I was offering constructive criticism!”

“Oh yeah? Your ‘criticism’ consisted of making fun of my dance moves,” Noah teased, shaking his head. “But I guess you were just trying to make me laugh.”

Ethan’s smile softened as he looked at Noah, the humor in his eyes giving way to something more sincere. “I didn’t know how else to help you relax. You were so serious, so stiff. I figured you needed a laugh more than anything.”

Noah’s expression softened in return, a small, grateful smile curving his lips. “Well, it worked. Even if I wanted to kill you at the time.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ethan said, his voice lighter again. “But look where we are now, huh? Still here, still laughing.”

The memory lingered between them, a lighthearted moment that spoke volumes about how far they’d come.

---

The next morning, after another round of rehearsals, Ethan noticed that Noah seemed a bit off. He had been quiet all morning, his usual energy dampened, his movements sluggish. As Noah prepared for an upcoming interview, Ethan quietly moved to his side, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

Without a word, Ethan placed a cup of Noah’s favorite coffee on the counter next to him—just the way he liked it, extra strong with a dash of cream. Noah looked up, surprised, but didn’t say anything immediately. He just reached for the cup, the warmth from it a small comfort.

Ethan, always perceptive, didn’t press him. “You’re good, Noah. You’ve got this,” he said, his voice steady, yet filled with quiet encouragement.

Noah took a deep breath, his eyes flickering to Ethan. A small smile tugged at his lips, but it was fleeting. He didn’t speak, but there was a gratitude in his gaze that Ethan knew well.

---

Later, after a long day of press and photoshoots, Noah and Ethan found themselves unexpectedly free—both with a rare moment of downtime. The schedule had cleared, and neither of them had anything pressing. It was a small break, but they decided to make the most of it.

They grabbed coffee from a quiet café and wandered through the park nearby, the autumn air crisp and refreshing. For once, there were no cameras, no expectations—just the two of them, walking side by side, as they had done so many times before.

Noah glanced over at Ethan, who was carrying both their drinks, a faint smile tugging at his lips as they walked in comfortable silence.

“You know,” Noah said, after a pause, “I don’t think I’ve had a day like this in a while.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, his gaze light. “A day off?”

“Yeah, a real one. No schedules, no press. Just... this.” He gestured at the park around them. “It’s nice. Not something I ever get to do anymore.”

Ethan gave a short nod. “It’s good to slow down for once. You don’t have to be ‘Noah,’ the idol, all the time. You’re just you.”

Noah glanced at him, surprised by the weight of his words. He didn’t respond right away, but in the quiet of the park, he felt something shift between them. It wasn’t just the exhaustion or the stress. It was something deeper—something that spoke to the trust and the understanding they shared.

---

As the day came to a close, the easy companionship between them remained. Even as they headed back to their respective roles, there was an unspoken understanding that was stronger than any words could convey. The unacknowledged tension between them still hung in the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just... there, unspoken but present, as they navigated this uncharted territory together.

And so, as they sat in the quiet of the car heading back, Noah’s thoughts drifted to the moment they had shared earlier—the small act of kindness, the quiet support, the ease of simply being together. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to this than either of them realized. But for now, they didn’t need to say it.

They were, after all, still figuring it out.

---