OUR STORY (BxB)

Chapter 2

Tamaro

The day had come—the official introduction of Phonix. The members stood in the spotlight, but I remained in the shadows. Every time they went live or filmed a video greeting, I watched silently from behind the camera. I smiled on the surface, but inside... I cried. Quietly. Alone.

I was part of the group—yet invisible.

My confidence unraveled a little more each day. Even when Jemuel posted group photos, I was barely there—just a blur in the background, my face hidden behind someone's shoulder. Fans saw my silhouette once and assumed it was Akiro.

They didn't know I existed. And sometimes... I felt like I didn't either.

Mr. William gathered us once again in the meeting room. We all knew what was coming—our debut was just two days away. We had been training non-stop, pouring every ounce of energy into preparing for this moment. I was talking quietly with Akiro when Mr. Will entered the room. Instantly, the atmosphere shifted—our casual chatter gave way to solemn attention.

"Two days from now, you will officially debut," he announced, then looked directly at me. "And Tamaro, you'll be introduced tomorrow as the final member of Phonix. So get ready."

A wave of nerves rushed through me, but I couldn't help smiling. It would be the first time my face appeared on camera, the first time I'd stand beside my members during a live broadcast. My heart fluttered at the thought.

The others lit up with joy after the announcement. They were genuinely excited—not just for the debut, but because our team was finally complete. On the way back to the studio, Akiro draped his arm over my shoulders and we walked together through the narrow lobby, grinning like kids. I was happy—but part of me still wondered why I had been kept hidden until now. I longed for answers.

The next day arrived—my official reveal. We read through one of the first articles that featured my name and face, and I was stunned by the reaction. P-pop fans flooded the comments with curiosity and warmth. The feedback was overwhelmingly positive. For the first time, they saw me—and welcomed me in.

Backstage before our debut performance, the energy was thick with nerves and excitement. Cameras surrounded us, and I won't lie—shyness crept in. But I reminded myself: I have to be strong. For me... and for Akiro. I knew how difficult this was for him. He was quiet by nature, easily overwhelmed in crowds, and I'd always made it a point to be beside him. Whenever he drifted toward the corners alone, I joined him. And now, I had to lend him some of my courage, just as he had quietly lent me his strength all this time.

Akiro was a soft-spoken dreamer with boundless talent. I admired him more than I could say. I believed in him—and I would stand beside him every step of the way.

The cheers of P-pop fans echoed through the venue, spilling warmth and adrenaline into our hearts. I reached for Akiro's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to ease his nerves. This was our very first performance—we needed it to be perfect. He looked at me and smiled, then squeezed back. That one quiet exchange calmed the storm inside me.

Staff moved around us, offering final instructions—reminders on timing, posture, and everything in between.

When the music began, I poured everything I'd learned as a trainee into each step, each note. We all did. The crowd was alive, banners with our names waved proudly. These were our very first fans—people who believed in us even before the world knew our name.

Backstage, after it was over, emotions overtook us. We cried together—not only from the fans' overwhelming support, but from the sheer exhaustion. The road leading here wasn't easy. The diets, the sleepless nights, the relentless training—it had all built toward this one moment. And it was worth it. Our debut was a success.

After meeting with fans, we returned to the company building where Mr. William awaited us. He had something important to share. Though we were tired, our hearts were still racing. As he entered, he greeted us with warm hugs—one by one.

"I've always believed in all of you," he said, then turned to me. "And Tamaro, I especially want to thank you for everything you've given."

His eyes met mine. "I know you've wondered why I kept you hidden. Today, I'll tell you."

The room fell silent. Even the members leaned in, their expressions mirroring my curiosity.

"I didn't want another company swooping in," Mr. William explained. "I kept you hidden because of your charm—your presence. You're the visual ace of Phonix."

I glanced at my members. They were all smiling, nodding in agreement. The tension in my chest softened.

"And you know what?" Mr. William added, voice firm. "Since your reveal, you've become the talk of the town. Everyone's curious about you, Tamaro. I don't regret keeping you hidden. It protected your place in the group—and gave you the perfect spotlight."

I didn't know what to say—no words came to me. I was stunned by Mr. Will's explanation. To be honest, I'm just an ordinary boy who came to Manila to chase a dream, who happened to live side by side with the members. I never expected such praise from him... but hearing the reason behind it, I couldn't fully rejoice.

They saw my appearance—but not my skill, not my dedication. And that stung.

Deep down, I know I'm more than a visual. I have talent. I've trained hard. I can do better than this, and I will. As grateful as I am for the attention, it felt more like a label than a recognition of everything I've worked for.

So, I made a quiet vow to myself: I'll prove that I belong here not because of how I look—but because of what I can create. Because of what I bring to the stage.

-AKIRO-

I'm from Davao, and music has always been my world. It started with a moment—a quiet spark—when I saw a boy on TV whose charm left me breathless. His name was Renz Arcenal. Because of him, I auditioned at Brightside Company. And even when other agencies offered me contracts, I chose the one where I could be close to Renz.

I was just fourteen when I became a trainee. At that age, everything felt overwhelming. I left my family behind and moved in with three artists I admired deeply. I trained hard and lived quietly. I'm introverted by nature—used to being alone, even in shared spaces. I had no friends, only the rhythm of my routines and the comfort of silence. Most nights, I practiced until sunrise.

That was my world... until I met Tamaro Saito.

I remember that day clearly. I was walking through the company lobby, trailing behind a group of trainees, when I noticed someone sitting alone on the sofa. A boy—smiling softly at the others passing by. Something about him made me stop. His presence felt different.

Then he looked at me.

My heart leapt. I immediately dropped my gaze and quickened my steps, hurrying past him. But once he was out of sight, I leaned against the wall, breath catching as I clutched my chest. I'd never felt my heart race like that—not even for Renz.

That was new.

I shook it off and joined the others for practice. We trained past midnight. And though I returned to the dorm exhausted, something inside me felt newly awake.

When I opened the door, I wasn't expecting it—but there he was.

He'd fallen onto the sofa, his laughter fading as he slowly stood. I recognized him instantly—the boy I'd seen in the lobby earlier. For a moment, everything around us shifted into slow motion. My heartbeat surged, my throat tightened, and time seemed to hush. It felt like we were the only two in the room, caught in each other's gaze.

In that stillness, I had a chance to really look at him. He had the kind of face you rarely see up close—a pointed nose, delicate lips, big ears, and eyes that shimmered with depth. If you stared into them long enough, you'd feel as if you were sinking into some quiet ocean. He didn't look real. He looked like something divine—a human impossibly crafted in beauty.

Renz's voice snapped me back to the present, introducing us. And the moment our hands met, something electric rippled through me—like static dancing across skin. What was this feeling? I'd never felt it before. And certainly, never for a guy.

Over time, Tamaro and I grew close. He was endlessly curious, always asking about the training process, and I was more than willing to share everything I knew. I envied how naturally he connected with people—how he made friends effortlessly, even with the staff.

But what I admired most wasn't his confidence. It was his kindness.

Whenever we practiced with the others, he never left me out. Even when others pulled him into conversation, he'd circle back to me. He stood by me, always. Encouraging. Gently pushing me toward things I'd never dared to try. Before I joined Phonix, I was just a quiet corner in the room—waiting to be called on.

Then he arrived. And everything started to change.

He felt like an older brother to me. Yes—an older brother. That's what I told myself. Maybe what I felt for him was just admiration, a pull toward his beauty, nothing more. So I tried to forget. I tried to bury what stirred inside me. But when Jemuel arrived and the two of them grew close... I felt something I couldn't explain.

Jealousy crept in.

Maybe it was because I wasn't his whole world anymore. I had grown used to him caring only for me. And when that shifted, it hurt in ways I wasn't ready to admit. I recognized the selfishness in me. I wanted everything he gave. I wanted his attention—even when it wasn't mine to claim.

Before our debut, Mr. William spoke to us and announced that Tamaro would remain hidden. My heart sank. I knew how much he had looked forward to debuting, and now... this. He didn't speak against it. But he grew quiet, his silence heavier than words.

When we returned to the dorm, he remained distant.

It was past midnight when I heard movement—Tamaro quietly rising from bed and slipping out of the room. Minutes passed, and he hadn't returned, so I followed. That's when I saw him on the balcony, bathed in moonlight, staring at the sky.

I stayed behind the glass, watching him in silence.

Then his shoulders trembled. Tears spilled, and he folded into himself—knees hugged to his chest, face buried, sobbing softly. I felt something c***k inside me. I'd always seen him as strong, unshakable. Seeing him break—it doubled the ache in my heart. I hadn't realized I was crying, too.

I wanted to hold him, to say something that might make this pain easier to bear. But I didn't know how.

I wiped my tears, took a deep breath, and quietly stepped onto the balcony. He didn't look up. I sat beside him and placed my hand on his back.

He started crying again, and I did too.

I tried to hold it in, to be steady for him—but the moment overwhelmed me. I wiped my tears before I spoke.

"Tamaro... I understand how you feel," I said, my voice trembling as I tried to hold back tears. "Even I don't know why they made that decision."

He turned to me, his tear-filled eyes locking onto mine. We didn't speak—we simply looked at each other. His silence spoke volumes.

And then I said it. Out loud. The thought I meant to keep hidden.

"Why are you crying... and still so handsome?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them. I wanted to disappear on the spot. My face burned with embarrassment—but then I saw it... he blushed.

"Seriously, Akiro?" he said, wiping his eyes with a soft laugh. "You're asking me that while I'm trying to cry in peace?"

I smiled awkwardly, feeling ridiculous. I was being too obvious about how deeply I admired him.

Still, we stayed out on the balcony together. I didn't leave his side until I knew he was okay.

When the company introduced Phonix without Tamaro, my heart ached for him. Every time we went live, he sat quietly behind the camera. I could never focus fully—my attention always drifted to where he sat, alone.

The day before our official debut, Mr. William called us in once more. This time, he told us it was finally time to introduce Tamaro to the public. Relief flooded through me—and joy. All the members were smiling, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. I could tell something still lingered inside him.

Then debut day came.

We were all nervous, standing on the edge of something enormous—our first real performance, our first time under the spotlight. I felt anxious... but Tamaro stayed close, grounding me in every moment. He made sure I was calm, gently holding my focus.

When we stepped on stage, we gave it everything—our energy, our hearts, our dreams. We didn't want to let down the fans who came to see us. And because of him, I didn't.

After our performance, we headed straight back to the company—Mr. Will had requested a meeting. He offered his congratulations for our successful debut, then shared the reason behind why Tamaro had been kept hidden all this time. I understood it, at least logically... but I could tell Tamaro wasn't satisfied. His silence said more than words ever could.

We were exhausted, drained from the whirlwind of our debut. The schedule ahead looked even more hectic. As night settled, everyone slipped into sleep—except me. I lay awake, thoughts spinning, because I was worried about him.

After nearly two years of living side by side, I've come to understand Tamaro in quiet, subtle ways. He's the kind of person who hides everything beneath a smile. Most people wouldn't know when he's hurting, but I've learned to read the silences between his words. He keeps everything bottled up until it becomes too heavy to bear alone. I didn't ask him what was wrong that night—not because I didn't care, but because I knew he wouldn't tell me until he was ready.

Even though I'm the youngest in the group, I feel this pull—this responsibility—to protect him. To stand by him, no matter what. And I've quietly promised myself: I'll be here for Tamaro. All the way to the end.

After our debut, invitations started pouring in—interviews, guestings, fan meetings. It was overwhelming. We had our very first fan gathering, and though we'd performed in front of fans before, I still felt anxious and shy.

One by one, the MC asked us questions. Then it was Tamaro's turn.

"Among the members, who are you closest to?"

Without a second of hesitation, he answered, "It's Akiro Yamamoto."

He turned toward me and smiled—and my heart skipped.

I hadn't expected that. He was close to Jemuel too, so part of me thought he might say someone else. But he chose me. I stepped forward instinctively, walked over, and pulled him into a hug.

That simple answer, and the way he looked at me... made my heart flutter in a way I still don't fully understand.

Our first fan meeting was a rush of joy and laughter. After the event, we returned to the dorm to rest—practice still awaited us. Even though we'd debuted, rehearsals never stopped. The rhythm of training continued, and so did our growth as a team. Arguments came and went, but they only deepened our bond.

At the backstage before another performance, the dressing room buzzed with energy. Everyone was busy with makeup and hair, adding final touches before going on. I held a camera in my hand, recording the behind-the-scenes chaos—capturing smiles, nerves, and excitement. I moved from member to member, asking playful questions. Their joy was infectious.

Then I reached Tamaro.

He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his outfit. Instead of pointing the camera at him, my eyes drifted to his reflection—to him. And before I could stop myself, the words spilled out:

"You're so handsome."

I tried to play it off, acting like he hadn't heard. But for the rest of the recording, I kept the lens trained on him. Even if the editors trimmed it down, I knew I'd save the full footage for myself.

After the event, we returned to the dorm, utterly drained. Everyone settled in for the night. Four bunk beds filled the room with quiet breathing. My spot was on the lower bunk, and Tamaro slept above me. Or so I thought.

I felt movement—soft and slow—then he gently climbed down and slipped beside me.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" he whispered. "I need someone to hug."

I shifted wordlessly, making space for him. He lay down and wrapped his arms around me, and I let him. I knew he couldn't sleep without holding onto something—someone.

"Akiro... is it okay if I hug you?" he asked, already halfway there.

I laughed quietly. "You're already hugging me, Tamaro. Why ask now?"

He tightened his embrace, and I smiled as I closed my eyes. His warmth settled over me, and sleep came gently.

When I woke up, Tamaro was still curled beside me, arms wrapped around me like a blanket of warmth. His head rested gently against my arm; his face tucked into the curve of my neck. Each breath tickled my skin, soft and steady. I shifted slightly, but he instinctively drew closer, holding me tighter. I sighed quietly and let myself melt into the moment, closing my eyes again and drifting back to sleep.

Later that morning, we scrambled to get ready—Mr. William had called for a meeting. Even our manager, usually calm and collected, was rushing around. If there was one thing Mr. William couldn't tolerate, it was lateness.

When we arrived at the company, the staff had already gathered in the small office. A minute later, Mr. William entered with the production head beside him. We bowed in greeting, offering the usual respect, and they nodded warmly in return. As always, I sat beside Tamaro—his presence grounded me.

The meeting began with exciting news: we were going to star in a new variety show called "YOUNG PRINCE". All of us lit up. This was it—a chance for fans to get to know us beyond the stage.

Filming began soon after, and it turned into something we truly enjoyed. Tamaro and I were chosen for a Phonix Pizza commercial, and during the shoot, he was his usual vibrant self—playful and animated. Between takes, we ran through lines and improvised silly skits, laughing at every little slip-up. He encouraged me to be myself, and I did. The way I smiled and laughed when looking at him—it wasn't for the camera. It was real.

The variety show became a memory in motion, each moment more fun than the last. One task from the production team stood out: the vocal line was asked to perform "You're My" in front of the fans. The studio was small, but the energy was intimate and warm. We practiced the song together, voices weaving through the quiet space. I loved the melody—it was a confession in music, a song for someone you hold close to your heart.

It was the day of our performance, and before going on stage, Jemuel suggested we look into each other's eyes while singing—to help us connect more deeply with the song. Everyone agreed, including Joshua. We waited backstage for our turn, and as usual, nerves crept in. I took a deep breath when the MC finally called us.

We stepped in front of the fans, lights warming our skin. I stood between Joshua and Jemuel; Tamaro was just beyond Jemuel, slightly off to the side. Joshua began the song and we followed. I glanced at him, just as we'd planned. But when I turned to meet Jemuel's gaze... I didn't see him. My eyes landed on Tamaro instead—who was already looking at me.

He smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back as we sang our line together.

I sang with everything I had, and with every word, I thought only of Tamaro. He's like my sweetest ice cream—soft, comforting, quietly addictive.

After the performance, Jemuel teased me for not sticking to the plan. I gave him a playful excuse, not daring to admit the truth behind my distraction.

I'm only sixteen, and honestly, I'm still figuring out what this feeling is. Maybe it's just brotherly love. Or maybe it's something more. But I find peace in his presence. When I'm beside him, I feel like I'm truly myself.

We continued filming Young Prince, wrapping up the series while still juggling practice and voice lessons. Even after our debut, the schedule didn't slow down. We still went to school. Tamaro and Jemuel attended the same high school, while the older members were already studying at universities, busy pursuing their courses.

Balancing life as both an idol and a student is anything but easy. Yet for Tamaro, he makes it look effortless. He somehow finds time to laugh with his friends, goof around, and enjoy the ride. It might seem like he's taking everything lightly—but that's just his way. He's simply being himself, soaking in each moment with quiet joy.

But I know him better than most.

Behind the smiles and carefree aura, there's more. I see it in the silences; in the way his eyes linger just a beat too long when he thinks no one's watching. He's holding something back—from everyone. And I'm waiting patiently for the day he finally opens up.

Whatever it is, I'll be here. I won't push—I'll just be ready to listen, and to understand. Because that's a promise I've made, and one I won't break.