Chapter 7 – Broadcast Boyfriend and the Accidental Lap Dance
Narrator: Noa's studio is already chaotic, but now with Reno crashing her workplace, things spiral into dangerous new territory.
Reno somehow charms the receptionist, steals a visitor's badge, and infiltrates the control room believing he can help "spice up" the station's boring morning show. Noa scrambles to keep him hidden, but when Reno ends up live on-air doing something disturbingly close to a lap dance during a fitness segment, the internet explodes. Noa's job is on the line, her coworkers are suspicious, and Reno thinks this is all part of his "romantic training arc." Meanwhile, Kaito starts to take interest in Noa's strange love life, pushing her into deeper confusion.
---
Noa arrived at the studio early.
Too early.
Her eyes were still half-shut, her coffee was still too hot, and her phone had already buzzed twice with passive-aggressive messages from her producer.
She just wanted one normal day. One.
But as she walked through the lobby, she saw something that made her soul scream.
Reno. At the front desk. Chatting up the receptionist.
Wearing a visitor badge.
And a smug little smile.
"Morning, darling," he said, waving like this was a casual brunch and not a total career-ending situation.
Noa stopped dead in her tracks.
"How—why—what the hell are you doing here?!"
Reno pointed at his badge. "Official guest of the network. The lovely lady here says I have the cheekbones of someone important."
The receptionist giggled. "He said he was talent scouting."
"I said I was talented *and* scouting," he corrected, winking.
Noa dragged him away so fast she almost pulled his arm off.
"You can't just show up here!"
"Why not? I'm your emotional support hallucination."
"You're a walking HR violation!"
---
Upstairs, she shoved him into an empty meeting room.
"Stay here. Do not move. Do not touch anything. Do not flirt with any lighting equipment."
Reno looked around the conference table like it was his new playground.
"Is this where you plan my future? I feel honored."
"I'm serious, Reno. You can't be here. This is *my* workplace. Real-world. Professional. You'll get me fired."
He looked at her, a little too sincere.
"You looked tired this morning. I wanted to see you smile."
Her expression cracked for just a second. "That's not how jobs work."
Before she could lock the door behind her, he winked. "I'll behave. Ish."
---
Noa returned to the control room and tried to focus.
Today's schedule: pre-recorded cooking segment, boring weather interview, then the *live fitness feature.*
Everything was fine.
Until she noticed someone on camera who should *definitely* not be there.
"Is that… Reno?!"
He was in gym shorts.
Holding a jump rope.
Stretching beside a very confused personal trainer.
Noa's heart dropped into her shoes.
"Who the hell is that guy?" asked the camera director.
"I—uh—guest influencer?" Noa choked.
The director shrugged. "He's hot. Let it roll."
The *Live* light came on.
And Reno began… gyrating.
---
What followed was five minutes of pure chaos broadcast to thousands of viewers.
Reno stretched.
Reno flexed.
Reno did a squatting motion that looked *way too suggestive* for morning TV.
The trainer tried to demonstrate proper posture.
Reno climbed onto a yoga ball and declared, "I feel the *core of my soul activating!*"
The anchor tried to cut to commercial.
Reno shouted, "Wait! This is for the thighs!"
Then he straddled the ball. And bounced. Rhythmically.
Someone in the control room gasped. Someone else dropped their coffee.
Noa wanted to explode into particles.
---
The aftermath was swift and digital.
Clips of "thirst trap yoga guy" were circulating online before the segment even ended.
Twitter was already ablaze with hashtags like **#ThighsOfReno** and **#BroadcastDaddy**.
Someone on TikTok added techno music to his squats.
By the time Noa cornered him in the hallway, Reno was checking himself out in a hallway monitor.
"You're trending!" he beamed.
"You're insane!"
"You're welcome."
"You humiliated me in front of my boss, my coworkers, the entire *country!*"
He leaned in. "And yet… still no restraining order."
Noa grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into a janitor's closet.
"Stay. Here. I swear to god, if you show your abs one more time, I will sell you for printer ink."
Reno grinned. "How much am I worth?"
She slammed the door shut.
---
An hour later, Noa was summoned to her producer's office.
The door creaked open.
Her producer looked up from her desk, unimpressed.
"I saw the footage," she said.
Noa wilted.
"I know what you're going to say—"
"I've never seen a segment get that many clicks in real-time."
Noa blinked. "Wait—what?"
"The fitness brand's stock went up 3%. We're getting emails. Sponsors want more of him."
Noa choked. "You can't be serious."
"I am. And I want you to book him again."
Noa's brain rebooted.
"I—what?!"
The producer smirked. "Congratulations. You just accidentally created a viral segment. Use him wisely."
Noa stumbled out of the office in shock.
And bumped directly into Kaito.
He caught her before she fell.
"You okay?" he asked, voice low.
"I think I got promoted. Or blackmailed. Or cursed."
He smiled. "That guy's your boyfriend, huh?"
She winced. "He's… complicated."
Kaito looked at her like he was trying to solve a puzzle with his heart.
"Must be something special if he can make you this stressed."
She opened her mouth.
And realized she had *no idea* what to say.
---
Later that night, back at her apartment, Reno was lounging on the couch again.
Wearing her sunglasses.
Eating cereal from a wine glass.
"You're welcome for the fame," he said casually.
"You're banned from public spaces."
"Correction: I'm a star now."
She tossed a throw pillow at him. "You're a menace."
"And yet, you let me stay."
She sat down beside him. Quietly.
The room settled.
He looked at her. "You okay?"
"No," she said. "But… weirdly, yes."
They sat like that for a while.
And for once, Reno didn't say anything flirty, or stupid, or explosive.
He just leaned back.
And existed.
Which, for him, was already a lot.