Epilogue -- Best Shoot
Epilogue Part 3 – Best Shoot
Mina didn’t sleep the night the photos spread.
Not because she was reading hate.
Because she was waiting for it.
Her body had learned to brace first.
Years of headlines had trained her like muscle memory.
She sat on the edge of her hotel bed in Singapore, phone glowing in her hand, scrolling with that quiet dread that lived under her ribs.
Her name.
Her face.
Aleem’s face.
A lunch table.
A small secret touch under the table that the camera hadn’t even caught–but Mina knew it was there.
She expected the usual.
The possessiveness.
The entitlement.
The “you owe us.”
Instead, the top comment she saw made her blink.
She looks happy.
Another.
Let her live.
Another.
He looks like he treats her gently.
Mina stared.
Her chest tightened.
She scrolled further.
Finally, normal love.
I’m glad she found someone outside the industry.
He looks like a safe man.
Mina’s breath caught.
Safe.
The word again.
She didn’t realize she was crying until a tear dropped onto her screen.
She wiped it fast, annoyed at herself.
Then she did the most reckless thing of all.
She called Aleem.
He answered immediately.
“Hi,” he said.
Mina’s voice came out small.
“Aleem,” she whispered.
Aleem’s tone sharpened gently. “What’s wrong?”
Mina swallowed.
“Nothing,” she said, then corrected, “Something.”
Aleem went quiet.
Mina’s voice trembled.
“They’re… nice,” she whispered.
Aleem blinked. “Who?”
Mina sniffed, half laughing, half crying.
“The comments,” she said. “They’re supportive.”
Aleem exhaled.
As if he’d been holding his own breath.
“Good,” he said softly.
Mina pressed her fingers to her mouth.
“I thought they would hate me,” she admitted.
Aleem’s voice went lower.
“They don’t,” he said. “Because you’re not doing anything wrong.”
Mina’s eyes stung.
“And you?” she whispered.
Aleem didn’t hesitate.
“I’m proud,” he said.
Mina froze.
“Proud?”
Aleem’s voice was steady.
“Yes,” he said. “Because you didn’t hide. You chose what you wanted.”
Mina’s throat went tight.
She whispered, “Say it.”
Aleem’s voice softened.
“I choose you,” he said.
Mina’s breath hitched.
“Properly,” she reminded, voice shaky.
“Properly,” Aleem repeated.
Mina exhaled and laughed softly through tears.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Aleem’s voice warmed.
“Okay,” he echoed.
Mina closed her eyes.
For the first time in years, she didn’t feel like love was a problem that needed managing.
It felt like something she was allowed to have.
–
A month later, Mina was back in Korea.
Not in rehearsal rooms.
Not in recording studios.
On a set.
A real modeling set.
White backdrop, softbox lights, stylists moving like choreographed bees.
A luxury brand had flown her in for a campaign.
She stood in front of the camera with hair slicked back, earrings catching the light, expression calm.
Professional.
Beautiful.
But inside, Mina was tense.
Not from the shoot.
From the new reality:
People knew.
And somehow, that made her more fragile.
Like the world could reach further.
The photographer adjusted his lens.
“Okay, Mina,” he said. “Give me something… quieter.”
Mina nodded.
She breathed.
She tried.
Then a stylist rushed over.
“Mina-ssi,” she whispered urgently. “Someone is here.”
Mina blinked. “Who?”
The stylist looked like she couldn’t decide whether to scream.
“Your… boyfriend,” she whispered.
Mina froze.
Her heart stopped.
Then restarted too fast.
“No,” Mina whispered. “He’s in Singapore.”
The stylist’s eyes widened.
“He’s here,” she insisted.
Mina’s breath caught.
She turned.
And there he was.
Standing near the monitors.
A coat.
A backpack.
Hair slightly messy like he’d rushed.
Aleem.
Real.
Watching her like she was the only thing in the room.
Mina’s body forgot it was supposed to be composed.
Her smile broke free instantly.
Bright.
Undeniable.
The kind of smile she used to save for stadiums.
Now it was for one person.
The set noticed.
Whispers.
Heads turning.
The photographer glanced up from the monitor.
“Oh,” he murmured. “That’s him.”
Mina took one step.
Then another.
Then she stopped herself, remembering she was still in shoot clothes, still on a paid schedule.
Her chest fluttered with helpless joy.
Aleem lifted a hand.
A small wave.
Mina’s breath hitched.
She lifted her hand back.
Then–without thinking–she called softly,
“Aleem.”
Aleem walked closer.
He stopped just outside her space, polite even here.
Like he was asking the room for permission to love her.
Mina stared up at him.
“You–” she began.
Aleem’s lips twitched.
“Surprise,” he said.
Mina’s eyes widened.
“You didn’t tell me,” she whispered.
Aleem leaned closer, voice low.
“You like surprises,” he reminded.
Mina’s mouth trembled into a smile.
“I like you,” she whispered.
Aleem froze.
Then his eyes softened.
“Say it properly,” he murmured.
Mina laughed softly, cheeks warming.
“I like you properly,” she whispered.
Aleem’s chest warmed.
Mina’s fingers hovered between them.
She looked around.
The set was pretending not to stare.
Pretending not to melt.
Mina’s voice dropped.
“Can I hug you?” she asked.
Aleem nodded immediately.
“Yes,” he said. “Come.”
Mina stepped in.
Aleem wrapped his arms around her–careful, warm, steady.
Mina pressed her face briefly into his shoulder.
Her whole body calmed like it recognized home.
She whispered against his coat,
“Why are you here?”
Aleem’s voice was quiet.
“Because you’re here,” he said.
Mina’s throat tightened.
She pulled back slightly, eyes shining.
“That’s not a reason,” she whispered.
Aleem’s gaze held hers.
“It’s my reason,” he said.
Mina swallowed.
“Did you take leave?”
Aleem nodded.
“Two days,” he said. “I wanted to see you. And I wanted to see you… like this.”
Mina blinked.
“Like this?”
Aleem glanced toward the camera.
“You’re glowing,” he murmured. “I want to watch you do what you chose.”
Mina’s heart fluttered.
A stylist nearby whispered, “He’s so sweet,” like she’d been personally attacked.
The photographer cleared his throat.
“Okay,” he said slowly, eyes amused. “Mina… keep that feeling. Don’t lose it.”
Mina blinked.
“What feeling?”
The photographer pointed at her face.
“That,” he said. “That softness. That… happiness.”
Mina looked at Aleem.
Aleem’s gaze was warm.
Not consuming.
Not demanding.
Just… proud.
Mina exhaled.
Then she turned back to the camera.
“Okay,” she said.
Aleem’s voice drifted softly from behind the monitors.
“Choose me,” he teased under his breath.
Mina’s lips twitched.
She whispered back without looking,
“Properly.”
The set collectively melted.
–
The shoot that followed was different.
Mina moved with a quieter confidence.
Not idol precision.
Something softer.
More human.
She held the camera like she was holding a secret.
Like she had somewhere to return to after the lights.
Aleem watched without interrupting.
He didn’t cheer.
He didn’t clap.
He just looked at her like she was the most beautiful problem he’d ever solved–except she wasn’t a problem at all.
She was his choice.
Proper.
When the final shutter clicked, the photographer lowered his camera and exhaled.
“That,” he said, “was your best shoot.”
Stylists nodded.
Assistants murmured agreement.
Someone whispered, “She looks… free.”
Mina turned to Aleem.
Her eyes were bright.
She walked toward him, forgetting the room again.
Aleem stepped forward too.
They met in the middle.
Mina’s voice was soft.
“Did I do well?” she asked.
Aleem’s eyes softened.
“You were incredible,” he said.
Mina’s lips trembled.
“Say it again,” she whispered.
Aleem leaned closer.
“You were incredible,” he repeated. “And you’re even more beautiful when you’re not trying to be.”
Mina froze.
Then her eyes went glossy.
“You’re unfair,” she whispered.
Aleem’s mouth curved faintly.
“Good,” he murmured.
Mina laughed softly, then leaned closer.
“Can I kiss you?” she asked.
Aleem blinked.
Then smiled.
“Yes,” he said. “Properly.”
Mina giggled.
She lifted herself on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips–brief, warm, unmistakably real.
The set audibly died.
Someone whispered, “Oh my God.”
Mina pulled back, cheeks warm.
She looked at Aleem like she was daring him.
Aleem leaned in and kissed her again–still respectful, still brief–but sweeter.
A kiss that didn’t perform for anyone.
A kiss that simply belonged to them.
When he pulled back, Mina’s eyes were shining.
Aleem’s voice dropped.
“I choose you,” he whispered.
Mina’s breath hitched.
“Properly,” she whispered back.
Aleem nodded.
“Properly,” he promised.
And Mina–standing under lights, surrounded by people who were finally seeing her as more than a memory–smiled like she’d been given her life back.