Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 145: Scandal Breaks: “Is It All Just PR?”

Chapter 145: Scandal Breaks: “Is It All Just PR?”

The headline hit before her second sip of coffee.

"Power Couple or PR Puppets? Ava Lee and Ryan Kim’s ’Engagement’ Timeline Under Fire."

Ava stared at the screen.

Leaked photos. Out-of-context clips. A suspiciously well-edited compilation of her and Seo-jun in slow motion, underscored by melancholic pansori.

Ryan leaned over her shoulder, chewing on a granola bar like the internet hadn’t just caught fire.

"Wow. They really used that photo with the fan. I looked great in that hanbok."

"Ryan."

He offered her the bar. "Bite? It’s almond."

Ava glared. "We’re being accused of faking our entire relationship and you’re offering me almonds?"

He shrugged. "You’re prettier when you’re not hangry."

"Do you even care?"

"Of course I care," he said, now serious. "But I care more about what we know. You and me? We’re real."

"But to them, I’m just... performing."

Ryan sat beside her, voice soft. "Ava. Since when did you let public opinion define your truth?"

She hesitated. "Since people started saying my love life is a marketing strategy."

He took her hand. "Then let’s remind them it isn’t."

Ava didn’t answer right away.

Because the truth was—

She didn’t know who she was performing for anymore.

The cameras.

The clients.

Or the woman who hadn’t said a single word... yet had managed to see straight through her.

The day spiraled before Ava had time to put on proper pants.

Mei’s phone buzzed like it owed her money. Ryan’s inbox was overflowing with "no comment" requests. Even Soul & Seoul Magazine issued a hasty statement: "We celebrate modern power and connection in all forms. Editorial integrity remains our compass."

Ava didn’t know what that meant.

All she knew was that a blurry long-lens photo of her laughing with Seo-jun—eyes locked, faces close—was being shared under hashtags like #FireAndIce and #PRStuntOrPassion.

She refreshed her feed.

Mistake.

One post had over a million views.

> "They’re just pretending. Real love doesn’t look that curated."

Another:

> "It’s obvious. Ryan’s the beard. She’s in love with the strategist."

She slammed her phone face-down.

Mei poured tea in silence.

"You knew this would happen," Ava said.

"I hoped it wouldn’t," Mei said. "But I knew it could."

"And you didn’t think to warn me?"

"I thought you were strong enough not to need the warning."

That shut her up.

Ryan padded back into the room with wet hair and clean clothes, looking too composed for someone being accused of fake affection on a national level.

"They’re just bored," he said. "They need a new drama."

"They’ve chosen me as the drama."

"Then give them a show they didn’t expect," he said. "Tell the truth."

Ava laughed—short, bitter. "Which truth? That we’re in love? That I once tried to matchmake you with my ex-client? That I may or may not be a little unhinged when photographed in hanbok?"

He grinned. "All of the above."

She didn’t smile back.

Because underneath it all, what really scared her wasn’t the rumors.

It was the part of her that paused—hesitated—when she looked at that photo with Seo-jun.

It didn’t feel fake.

It didn’t feel like acting.

And that, more than the hashtags, was the real scandal.

---

Scene 2 – Damage Control Doesn’t Work on Feelings

Ava tried to spin it.

They met with the summit PR team, where an intern suggested a photo carousel of "candid couple moments" to reinforce authenticity.

"Do we have those?" Ava asked.

Ryan pulled out his phone. "I have you drooling on my shoulder on the Osaka train."

"Tempting."

The PR manager sighed. "Or we could leak a behind-the-scenes video. The one where you whisper something and she laughs—"

"She?" Ava blinked.

"Seo-jun. The strategist. It humanizes the shot."

Ava went still. "You want to humanize the rival shot to fix the relationship scandal?"

The intern raised a finger. "If I may... it’s tracking really well among queer audiences."

Ryan coughed into his sleeve. "We’re now trending under ’strategic lesbians.’"

Ava stood. "I need air."

She left before they could ask for a double interview.

---

Scene 3 – One Unexpected Message

Back in the suite, her phone buzzed again.

Not a tag.

Not a press request.

Just one message.

[From: Unknown]

You were right. Some photos tell the truth.

This one did.

Attached was the high-res frame.

The one Seo-jun had requested.

Ava mid-laugh.

Seo-jun watching her like the world had quieted.

Ava stared at it for a long time.

Then typed back.

Paused.

Deleted.

Typed again.

Why did you ask for it?

No reply.

Minutes passed.

Then—

[Seo-jun]:

Because I wanted to remember the moment before it changed.

Ava stared.

The kettle clicked behind her. Ryan called from the other room.

But all she could see was that message.

And the quiet truth inside it.

The summit’s next panel was titled "Love Leadership in a Digital Age." Ava was supposed to co-host with Ryan.

She showed up five minutes early.

Alone.

Not because she didn’t trust him—but because she didn’t trust herself.

The auditorium buzzed with press badges, summit coordinators, and CEOs in pastel suits who looked like they ran empathy startups. Ava smoothed her skirt, adjusted her mic, and avoided every camera.

Until she heard her name.

"Miss Lee."

She turned.

And there she was.

Min Seo-jun. Neutral expression. Slate-gray blazer over soft lavender silk. Not a trace of hanbok, but the same composed presence Ava remembered far too clearly.

"Are you on the panel?" Ava asked, immediately regretting how breathless it came out.

Seo-jun nodded. "Moderator invited me last minute. I said yes."

"Of course you did."

A pause.

Then Seo-jun tilted her head.

"You’re angry."

"No," Ava said too quickly. "I’m... aware."

Seo-jun’s voice dropped. "Of what?"

Ava met her eyes. "That I don’t know what this is."

"Neither do I," Seo-jun replied. "But it’s not PR."

That silenced her.

Before Ava could speak, a coordinator waved them toward the stage.

Seo-jun walked ahead.

Ava hesitated, then followed.

And in that quiet space between footsteps and spotlight, Ava realized—

She wasn’t angry.

She was afraid.

Because in a world where every touch could be staged, every gaze commodified—

This felt real.

And real was the most dangerous thing of all.

---

The lights were warm. The questions warmer.

Ava sat on the center couch, flanked by Ryan on her right and Min Seo-jun on her left. Three microphones. One moderator. A full room.

And probably a hundred people live-tweeting the micro-twitches of her left eyebrow.

The moderator grinned. "Welcome to our panel on Love Leadership in a Digital Age. First question—do emotions help or hinder strategy?"

A softball.

Ava opened her mouth, but Seo-jun beat her to it.

"Emotion is not the enemy of strategy," she said calmly. "It’s the compass. Without it, you move efficiently... but without direction."

Ava blinked.

Ryan whispered, "You okay?"

"I’m trying not to fall in love with the answer."

He grinned. "That’s my line."

The next question was harder.

"How do you maintain authenticity when public perception constantly shifts?"

Ryan answered first. "By letting your partner call you out when you’re being a corporate robot. And not deleting the photos of you tripping over a dumpling."

The audience laughed.

Ava followed. "By knowing who you are when no one’s watching. And choosing to be that same person even when the world is."

The moderator turned to Seo-jun.

"And you? What does authenticity mean to someone as famously private as yourself?"

Seo-jun paused. Then turned—fully—to Ava.

"It means knowing the difference between performance... and presence."

A beat.

Ava forgot how to breathe.

The room didn’t react. Not yet.

But she did.

Internally, something cracked open.

Because Seo-jun wasn’t speaking to the panel.

She was speaking to her.

---

The Debrief and Dissonance

The panel ended with applause and curated smiles. Cameras flashed. Hashtags multiplied.

Ava shook hands. Bowed politely. Posed once beside Ryan, once beside Seo-jun.

But the air between them buzzed like static. Unspoken, charged.

Later, back in the green room, Ryan handed her a bottled water and leaned against the counter.

"You were great," he said.

"I was spinning," she replied.

"You spin well."

She opened the cap and stared into space. "Did it look real?"

He tilted his head. "You mean us?"

"No," Ava said quietly. "I mean me."

Ryan’s expression softened. "Ava. I’ve seen you fake a smile through twelve-hour flights, influencer meltdowns, and an allergic reaction to seaweed soap. That wasn’t fake."

She didn’t reply.

She didn’t have to.

Because Ryan knew what she meant.

And she knew he’d known it for a while now.

He placed a gentle hand over hers. "Whatever this thing is—with Seo-jun—it’s not a betrayal."

Ava looked at him, eyes uncertain.

"She saw you," he said. "That’s all. You’re not used to it."

She exhaled. "I don’t know what to do with being seen."

Ryan smiled softly. "Maybe... you don’t have to do anything yet."

They sat in the hush of the room, Seoul pulsing quietly beyond the frosted glass.

No hashtags.

No edits.

Just presence.

And for the first time in a long while, Ava didn’t try to perform.

---

Will next Chapter carry this energy forward? Stay tuned!