strawberries & cigarettes
winter x male! oc
word count: 9191 words
part of the series: driveway saints
synopsis: while on a solo late night drive around seoul before she heads for work the next morning, winter reflects and reminisces about a certain bassist she had a thing with almost a year ago
tw: all certain works around this series does not reflect winter's or any other aespa members' real life characters. everything else is fictional such as the original characters and the band his circle revolves around
It was late in Seoul, the moon hung stubbornly in the sky despite the city lights that tried to drown it out.
Winter should’ve been back at the dorms with the others by now, with lights off and alarms set for the schedules the next day, but instead, she found herself behind the wheel, driving with no real destination in mind.
Maybe she just needed air or even silence. She wasn’t sure.
The day had been exhausting with endless schedules, cameras, and voices that constantly needed her but sleep refused to come. So she left the dorms without an explanation she herself couldn't think of. The only thing she had was just the quiet hum of the engine and the empty stretch of road ahead.
Streetlights passed in a steady rhythm, casting fleeting shadows across her face. The city blurred into something softer, ethereal in a way it never was during the day.
Still, even with the road open and the night calm, her mind refused to follow.
And no matter how far she drove, it stayed.
She knew it was probably nothing, just her thoughts creeping in again whenever it was too quiet to have a lot in mind, so she reached for the radio.
Music spilled into the car, which was enough to break the silence. She let it play as she drove, barely paying attention until the song changed without warning.
It sounded familiar, not in a way she could place, just something she felt more than recognized. She swore she heard it somewhere before but she couldn’t tell.
Then the bass came in, pressing faintly through the steering wheel beneath her hands that made her grip tighten.
A second later, her other hand lifted, tapping lightly against the dashboard, once, twice, keeping time without thinking.
That wasn’t her habit… It was his.
The realization came quietly, but it hit all at once, pulling her back before she could stop it.
And just like that, the memory took over.
Not the car, not the quiet road but back to Akaraka, the night she met him.
Winter had just finished their set at Akaraka, well, more like the entire show had wrapped, since they were the headliners.
Her body felt heavier than she expected, the kind of exhaustion that didn’t fully register until everything went quiet. She should’ve already been backstage with the other members, moving through the usual post-stage routine.
But instead, she found herself lingering.
They still had a few minutes before leaving, just enough time to breathe before the next thing to do on the agenda so she decided to slip away.
The backstage exit led her to a loading dock, tucked away from the noise of the crowd still fading beyond the venue walls. She almost turned back, realizing where she’d ended up.
But then, a raspy voice cut through the quiet.
“Yo, wanna do the honors?”
Turning slightly, she saw a man leaning casually against the wall, a cigarette resting between his lips and a lighter turning over lazily in his hand. He flicked it once, twice, like he wasn’t in any particular hurry for it to work.
He looked around her age, maybe a little older. Not polished in a way an idol like her is, she wasn't used to seeing a man with that kind of energy. There was something unpolished about him, effortless in a way that stood out more because of where they were.
Bleached-blond curls framed his face, he had a worn denim jacket hung loosely over his frame even though he only wore one sleeve and ink traced along his left arm, collarbones, and even very few on both of his hands.
This man felt completely different from the world she usually moved in and for some reason, she couldn’t look away.
She didn’t realize how long she’d been staring until his voice pulled her back.
“Hello?” the man said with a faint edge of amusement in it. “You gonna keep staring, or…?”
Winter snapped back to reality at his voice, her eyes dropping to what he was actually doing.
The cigarette was still between his lips. The lighter kept flicking, again, no flame caught. He didn’t look frustrated. If anything, he looked mildly entertained by the situation, like it was something that happened to him often enough not to matter.
“I don’t smoke,” she said flatly, almost automatically.
He huffed a quiet laugh through his nose, still trying the lighter. “I didn’t say you had to smoke.”
Then, with a faint tilt of his head, he added, “Or what? You’re too righteous to help a stranger with his bad habit, so you refuse to light his cigarette?”
His tone wasn’t accusatory, more teasing, like he was poking at an idea just to see how she’d react.
The lighter clicked again, still nothing.
He exhaled, then shrugged slightly, shifting his weight off the wall.
“Fair enough,” he said lightly. “Your choice.”
There was no offense in his voice. No insistence either, just acceptance, like he’d already moved on before the conversation even finished.
He tapped the cigarette once with his fingers.
“Guess I’ll go ask someone else then.”
He straightened a little, already half-turning away from her, like she was just another person in a long line of people who said no and moved on. The man glanced around, already searching for someone else.
She should’ve just left and gone back inside, pretending this never happened.
But for some reason, she didn’t move and before she could think better of it—
The word slipped out, quiet but enough to stop him.
He paused, glancing over his shoulder, one brow lifting slightly.
Winter hesitated for a second, then gestured faintly toward the lighter in his hand.
“…It’s probably just the wind,” she said. “I can try.”
This made the man turn fully, walking back toward her, this time with a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
He handed her the lighter.
Winter took it carefully, her fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment. She ignored it, focusing instead on the lighter as she flicked it.
Then, a flame finally caught.
She stopped for a split second, the sudden warmth closer than she expected. Not enough to pull away, just enough to notice.
Without saying anything, she lifted the lighter slightly, bringing the flame closer.
He leaned in, closer than she anticipated.
Her breath hitched, barely noticeable, but her grip tightened as she held the flame steady, letting it catch at the tip of his cigarette making it lit.
She pulled the lighter away almost immediately, extinguishing the flame a second later, her movements just a little quicker than before.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then he let out a quiet chuckle, taking the lighter back from her.
“Hey,” he said, exhaling lightly, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You reacted like it was your first time seeing fire.”
He clicked the lighter shut, slipping it back into his pocket.
“But that was smooth,” he added, glancing at her. “Especially for someone who doesn’t smoke.”
She was about to respond when her phone buzzed in her hand.
There was a message from her manager.
Winter stared at the screen for a second. Normally, she would’ve replied immediately, apologized even, telling them she was on her way back.
Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. If she answered, she’d have to go back and for some reason, she didn’t want to. Not yet.
“Let me guess,” he said, glancing at her phone. “Manager?”
Her head lifted slightly. “How did you—”
He gave a small shrug, taking another drag from his cigarette.
“You’re Winter,” he said like it was obvious. “Kinda hard not to know.”
There was no awe or hesitation in his voice, just a simple statement.
“My sister’s obsessed with aespa,” he added, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Plays your songs on repeat and I have to hear them whether I want to or not.”
Winter blinked, a little caught off guard by how casually he said it.
He exhaled, leaning back against the wall again.
“Managers get like that,” he went on. “Mine’s the same, he calls every five minutes if I’m out of sight and acts like I’m about to disappear or something. I mean I do but, yeah.”
He glances at her, a little teasing.
He tapped ash off to the side before adding,
“But still… kinda annoying.”
Another beat passed, quieter this time.
Then, almost like an afterthought, he said, “So what, you heading back?”
Winter looked down at her phone again.
The message was still there, waiting and then, she locked the screen.
“…Not yet,” she said softly.
“Well,” he said, taking another drag from his cigarette, “guess we’ll just stay here until our managers come looking for us.”
The word lingered for a second longer than it should’ve.
Her gaze lifted back to him, sharper this time.
“An artist?” he cut in, like he already knew what she was about to ask. He gave a small shrug. “You could say that.”
That was when it clicked. He kept mentioning about a manager since he saw her texting her own and then, she remembered the stage earlier.
One of the opening acts, there were four guys, not an idol group, but a band. She hadn’t seen much from backstage, just glimpses between movements and fragments of sound bleeding through the speakers.
They were loud, unapologetically so. The kind of sound that should’ve been overwhelming, messy even. The kind you’d expect to hear from some garage down a random street, bleeding into the night whether you wanted it or not.
And yet, people stayed and listened. They got pulled in by these guys’ energy for thirty minutes before they had to end it.
She remembered the crowd reacting louder than expected, more alive than usual for an opening act like they were the headliners.
Her eyes settled back on him.
That same bleached curls, that denim jacket and black jeans, that same unbothered presence.
He let out a short laugh, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Wow. Winter of aespa watched our set? I’m honored.”
There was a hint of teasing in his tone but beneath it, his cheeks flushed, just barely.
“Glad you liked it,” he added, scratching lightly at the back of his neck. “Even if it’s probably not your thing.”
Winter didn’t answer right away.
It wasn’t the kind of music she usually listened to, nothing like what filled her playlists or what she performed on stage. His sound was louder, rougher around the edges, less controlled. Grungy, almost. The kind of music that didn’t try to be perfect, just real. The instruments hit harder, the vocals a little raw, like they weren’t meant to be cleaned up.
It reminded her of something older, too, like the bands she’d heard from the 2010s, the kind that felt messy in a way that worked.
Different from her world.
And yet, she remembered it. Then it clicked.
The set she had just heard earlier wasn’t unfamiliar after all, just not her cup of tea. A handful of songs she’d caught in passing before, never enough to truly place, never enough to connect to anything specific. She had never really looked into them, just heard fragments of sound she’d heard in passing, drifting through playlists and staff rooms.
His brows lifted slightly, like he hadn’t expected her to say it first. Then a small, knowing smile tugged at his lips.
“Oh?” he said. “So you have heard of us.”
He leaned back against the wall again, still casual, but there was a faint shift in his tone, like amusement mixed with mild surprise.
“I could go on,” he continued, tapping ash away from his cigarette, “but I’m pretty sure that would either bore you to death or make it sound like I’m trying to sell you something.”
He gave out a half-shrug, “Not that I’d mind,” he added lightly. “But you probably didn’t come outside tonight to get a full marketing pitch from a guy smoking in a loading dock.”
That earned a quiet beat of silence between them.
He glanced at her again, then decided to keep it simple.
“To keep things simple, I’m the bassist,” he said. “That’s it.”
There was a brief silence between them.
“What? Now that I said I’m the bassist, you’re about to tell me you can’t hear the bass, aren’t you?”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly. Did he really just assume that?
“…Do people usually say that to you?” she asked instead.
He gave a small shrug, unbothered, “Most of the time,” he said. “Doesn’t really bother me, though. I just think it’s funny.”
A faint exhale of smoke left him as he glanced away for a second, like he’d said it too many times to care anymore.
“People don’t really notice it,” he added. “But if you take it out, everything feels off. Like… it’s the thing holding it together.”
He tilted his head slightly, searching for a better comparison.
“It’s like taking the salt out of the wings,” he said finally, a faint smirk returning. “You don’t always taste it, but you know when it’s missing.”
“I think I noticed it earlier,” she said quietly. “During your set. Especially in a lot of the songs… it didn’t feel empty.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything.
Like he wasn’t expecting that answer.
Then he let out a small breath, glancing away as he ran a hand through his hair.
“…Yeah?” he muttered, almost more to himself than to her.
The corner of his mouth lifted faintly before he shook his head.
“Eh,” he said after a beat, tone shifting back to something lighter, “I don’t really like talking about music too much.”
He took another drag, exhaling slowly.
“Got too much of it in my head already.” And then he smirked, “You always this nice to random guys smoking in loading docks?”
Winter blinked, a little caught off guard, before shaking her head. “…No. Not really.”
“Good,” he said easily. “Would’ve ruined the moment.”
The words settled between them, it felt light, but not entirely a joke and then it went quiet.
They looked at each other, and for a second, everything else seemed to turn into a blur: the distant noise, the fading crowd, even the space around them.
He dropped his cigarette, pressing it out with the sole of his shoe without breaking eye contact, then he stepped closer. Not all the way, just enough to close the distance, leaving a small space between them.
“Can I?” he asked, softer this time.
Winter’s breath caught. She knew what he meant. She didn’t answer but she didn’t step back either.
And somehow, that was enough.
She moved first, just slightly but enough to meet him halfway. For a moment, it felt inevitable and just as their lips were about to meet—
They both pulled back instinctively.
He turned toward the voice, the moment breaking as quickly as it had formed.
“Where were you, man?” someone called out, walking toward them. “Manager-nim’s been looking for you. Don’t tell me you turned your phone off again, you’re seriously gonna get an earful from him.”
Winter didn’t wait. The second the footsteps got closer, she stepped back, already turning away. She knew it was her cue to leave but just before she left, she glanced back.
Their eyes met one last time.
And then she was gone, slipping out of the loading dock and back into a world that suddenly felt a little too loud again.
And just like that, the moment Woo Yongsun entered the picture, her world turned upside down.
“Have you heard of Driveway Saints?” Winter suddenly asked.
The question slipped out the moment they were back in the van, cutting through the chatter as they head back to the dorms after their performance in Akaraka.
The conversation stopped and three pairs of eyes turned to her.
Karina raised a brow, already suspicious.
“…The band that performed earlier?” she said slowly. “You don’t just ask things like that out of nowhere, Minjeong.”
From beside her, Giselle let out a small laugh, “Driveway Saints?” she repeated. “Since when do you listen to them? That’s more my thing, well, mine and Ning’s.”
She assumed this was what she thinks it is so she leans forward slightly, eyes narrowing with interest. “Wait… who did you meet?”
Ningning immediately perked up, turning fully toward her. “Yeah,” she added, grinning, “you definitely met someone after going out for ‘fresh air.’”
Winter felt the heat rise to her cheeks almost instantly.
She looked away a little too quickly.
“…No one,” she said, trying to sound casual. “I was just asking.”
The three of them didn’t look convinced.
Giselle leaned forward immediately, eyes lighting up. “Come on, Minjeong,” she said, already grinning. “You can’t just drop that and not explain.”
Ningning turned in her seat too, just as invested, “Yeah,” she added, nudging her lightly. “Where are the details?”
Winter opened her mouth, then closed it again, she already expected her members to act like this but she still mentioned it anyway.
Karina watched the whole exchange before letting out a small sigh, though there was a hint of a smile on her face.
“Guys,” she said, glancing between them, “you’re not gonna get anything if you keep ganging up on her like that.”
“Let her talk when she’s ready,” she adds.
“You want some?” Yongsun asked, holding out a strawberry candy between his fingers.
It was outside the venue now, far enough from the noise of the after-party, tucked into a quieter alley where the city lights felt distant. Aespa had an after party to attend which did have something to do with some event that they went to and for some reason, Driveway Saints were in that same after party, at least barely.
Still in her event outfit, Winter paused, slightly out of place in the silence.
She glanced at the candy in his hand. “…You carry candy around?”
“Sometimes,” he said with a shrug. “Fans give them to me and I keep them for when I get bored and can’t…y’know….” He lifted his cigarette slightly, the ember glowing faintly before he took a slow drag. Smoke curled up into the air between them.
Winter’s gaze lingered on the contrast then drifted back to the candy.
He noticed, “What?” he asked lightly. “You think I’d just leave you standing here with nothing?”
A faint smirk tugged at his lips, “I’d offer you one of these,” he added, tilting the cigarette slightly, “but I already know you don’t smoke.”
“Anyway, you don’t have to take it if you don’t want. Means more for me later,” he shrugged
She looked at the candy one last time and nodded. “Okay.”
Carefully, she took the candy from his hand and unwrapped it, the crinkle of plastic small against the quiet of the alley.
He watched her for a second before letting out a breath, like he’d been holding in more energy than he knew what to do with.
“Thank God you’re here,” he said, rolling his shoulders slightly. “Winter? Or Minjeong?”
“Okay then, Minjeong it is.” He nodded like it was settled. “Thank God you’re here. This suit is seriously itchy. Can you believe this thing cost like a million won?”
He tugged lightly at his collar, exhaling through his nose, “To be honest… that whole thing was kind of boring.”
Yongsun then gave a half-smirk like he was aware of how that sounded, “I mean, I can talk to people just fine,” he continued, “but it’s just… I don’t know. I could’ve been at one of my friends’ frat parties by now.”
He shrugged. “Only reason I’m still around is the guys from the band, I can’t just ditch them.” His tone softened slightly. “I’d feel bad, they’re just as nervous if not, as bored as me when we end up in places like these.”
A faint grin returned, a little less sharp than before. “And I’ve been with them since middle school, it’d be terrible to just go to one of the frat houses in the nearby universities with them still here… I love those idiots to death, though.”
Winter just watched him as he kept talking about how understimulating the after party was. In a way, she understood it, though for her, it felt less like boredom and more like exhaustion.
Still, she didn’t say anything.
And slowly, the noise of the city faded out until it felt like it was just him.
Winter drove through the city again, the same quiet roads stretching out under dim streetlights. She slowed to a stop at a red light, the glow reflecting faintly across the windshield.
Her eyes drifted to the passenger seat.
A small plastic bag sat there with candies she had bought the other day. She hadn’t touched them, she didn’t even remember buying them, just that they ended up there somehow. After a moment, she reached over, pulling one out and unwrapping it absentmindedly.
She placed it in her mouth, it tasted like strawberries.
And just like that, her thoughts slipped back to him once again.
The late nights and random conversations that never stayed on one topic for long. The faint smell of smoke lingering in the air as he lit another cigarette, always paired with the quiet rustle of wrappers as he handed her one of his strawberry candies.
She had asked him once, “Why strawberries?”
He didn’t think about it too hard when he answered. He said it was just a thing with their fans, some association that stuck over time. Something about an old username, an inside joke that never really left. Apparently, he used to show up in pictures with strawberries all the time when he was younger and that eventually led to his old Instagram handle before he had to change it.
Nothing deep, nothing meaningful and yet, the taste lingered longer than it should have.
Before she knew it, her attention caught on someone crossing the street.
A denim jacket, black jeans, and blonde curls.
For a split second, her breath hitched except it wasn’t him.
Her grip tightened slightly on the wheel.
She didn’t understand why she kept thinking about him like this. An old flame, if she could even call it that. A situationship, maybe or whatever the entire thing was. It had been short, fleeting… and yet, it never really left. She still didn’t know what they were to this day, only that it was more than nothing.
The light turned green. Cars behind her started moving, and she followed, easing her foot back onto the gas but her mind was already somewhere else again, pulled back without permission back to the same man.
More specifically, to the one time she went to a Driveway Saints show in Hongdae, out of nothing but curiosity that soon enough escalated to somewhere else.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Minjeong,” Yongsun said, standing beside her as the lights in the hall dimmed.
The crowd had already cleared out. Only a few staff remained, moving between rows, cleaning up. Somewhere deeper backstage, the rest of the band was still getting ready to leave.
Winter had been on her way out with everyone else until he stopped her.
“…Me neither,” she admitted. “I just… wanted to see what your performance was like.”
“So I came,” she gave a small shrug.
“Really?” He glanced around the venue, then back at her with a crooked smile. “Figured a place like this would be a little small for you.”
There was no bite to it, “You could’ve told me, though,” he added. “I would’ve gotten you in… So, how was it?”
Winter looked away, the faintest heat rising to her cheeks.
“It was fine,” she said quietly.
“That song earlier…” she started, eyes still not quite meeting his. “The one you played near the end.”
He hummed, already knowing what she was about to say.
“That wasn’t part of the setlist, was it?”
Yongsun let out a short breath, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, no. That was all Gyumin,” he said. “He changed it on the spot.”
A small shake of his head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “I swear, one day—”
He stopped himself, glancing back at her.
He watched her for a second longer then huffed out a quiet laugh, like he’d already connected the dots.
“Alright, alright,” he cut in. “I know where this is going.”
Winter’s breath hitched at the weight of what he’d just dropped.
She had already suspected it earlier when the unreleased song played, something about it felt too him. Too unpolished and familiar in a way she couldn’t explain yet but hearing him saying it out loud made it different.
“…About?” she asked anyway.
Yongsun only shrugged, “You’re smart, Minjeong,” he said. “I think you can figure it out.”
That didn’t make it easier. If anything, it made everything confusing in her head. Then, the pieces clicked into place a little too quickly, the lyrics, the timing, the way he had looked at her earlier like he already knew she would notice.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
A pause stretched between them.
Instead of following the thought she should have said, she found herself asking something else entirely.
“…Do you ever think about what happens next?”
Yongsun blinked, the shift catching him off guard for the first time that night. “Wow, you switch topics fast,” he muttered, a faint exhale leaving him like a half-laugh. “Thought you were gonna call me out for that.”
His hands slipped into his pockets. Then, “I don’t really plan that far,” he said. “If it’s meant to happen, it happens.”
“You just wait it out,” he shrugs.
His gaze drifted toward the emergency exit at the far end of the hall, like the conversation itself had weight he didn’t want to sit with too long.
“Speaking of,” he added, his tone light again, “you wanna head out, Minjeong?”
Winter followed his gaze toward the emergency exit, a flicker of realization settling in.
“Yongsun… are you sure about this?” she asked, lowering her voice. “Don’t you and the band have to head back together?”
He let out a small breath, “Eh, the guys don’t really mind if we slip out after shows,” he shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “We just check in on our group chat. As long as our manager doesn’t catch me in the act, I’m good.”
“It’s fine,” he cut in lightly. Then, glancing at her outfit, he added, “Hold on—”
He adjusted her hood slightly, pulling it forward just enough to shadow her face.
“Okay. You’re good. Let’s go.”
Before she could second guess it or protest anything, he pushed the door open and slipped out, fingers brushing her wrist as he pulled her along.
The cold night air hit immediately.
They stepped out into the streets of Hongdae, still alive despite the hour. There were neon lights, distant music, and people passing by without a second glance.
For her, it felt unfamiliar.
Free, in a way she wasn’t used to. No staff nearby, no one watching, no one expecting her and yet, at the same time, it felt almost too open, like she’d stepped out without something she was supposed to have.
“Where are we going?” Winter asked, her voice quieter now as she walked beside him.
“Wherever the city lights take us,” Yongsun said as they both spotted a passing cab.
He raised a hand and the cab slowed down, then pulled over right in front of them. Without hesitation, he opened the door and tilted his head toward her.
Winter hesitated only for a second before stepping inside. He followed after her, sliding in and shutting the door behind them.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
Yongsun leaned back slightly, glancing at Winter in the dim interior light. “You want me to take you back to your dorm, Minjeong?” he asked, like he already knew she might say no.
Winter hesitated, the answer sitting somewhere between instinct and restraint.
She should go back to the dorms. She told the members and her manager that she’d just be in Hongdae to attend a show. Staying out any longer than that, especially this late, would raise questions. Morning schedules weren’t exactly forgiving either.
But at the same time… she didn’t want this to end. Not yet. Not when this was the first time in a while she felt this unmonitored, this free, even if it came with a strange kind of unease.
So instead, she said quietly, “Anywhere is fine.”
Yongsun glanced at her, brows lifting slightly. “Anywhere? You sure about that?”
Winter nodded, a little more certain this time.
“…Okay then,” he said, turning to the front. “Han River, please.”
The driver gave a short nod, and the cab started moving, the city lights slipping past the windows.
The ride was silent. Neither of them spoke but Winter’s mind kept moving faster than the city outside the window.
The lyrics had felt too specific to be just a coincidence but what did that even mean? What was he thinking when he wrote it? And if it was about her, didn’t that also mean other people could figure it out too?
Would his fans pick it apart? Did artists like him even get to have things that stayed private? He was a musician, sure, but still… anything tied to a song didn’t stay hidden for long.
And if it did connect back to her—
Why was he like this? Did he do this with everyone? More importantly… why was she still here?
She should’ve really asked to go back to the dorms. She should’ve ended this the moment he tried to talk to her after the show. It had already gone far too long. It was only a matter of time before someone recognized her, or word got out, or something shifted in a way she couldn’t control.
And he wasn’t even her type. That was the problem.
That should’ve been enough.
Because at the same time, his presence beside her felt disarmingly easy, like it didn’t require effort to exist in the same space. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
Winter blinked, pulled back into the moment.
She turned slightly toward him. He was watching her now, his expression quieter than before, less teasing and more observant.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “Thanks.”
“Okay then, it has gotten a bit awkward for a while so why don’t we get to know more about each other? Wanna play Two Truths and a Lie?” he offered, his fingers brushing lightly against hers, more a permission than a touch.
“You don’t have to,” he added, easy. “Just thought I’d distract you a bit.”
She hesitated, turning over her head but before she could answer, the cab slowed to a stop. She glanced out and realized they’d already reached the river.
Yongsun leaned forward, pulling out his wallet and paying the driver. “Thank you,” he said, before pushing the door open. He stepped out, then held it for her.
Winter followed, the night air hitting differently now.
“You deciding now?” he asked as they started walking along the path.
This time, she had space to think. No rush, no noise pressing in on her.
“…Okay,” she said finally.
A small smile tugged at his lips. “Great.”
He stopped by an empty bench and sat down, tilting his head toward the spot beside him. Winter took it, the distance between them just enough to feel intentional.
“Alright,” he said, settling back. “You go first.”
Winter took a moment to think through her three statements.
It wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. The game required honesty, at least partially, and that wasn’t something she was used to giving so freely, not with the kind of life she lived. There was always a filter, always something holding her back but for some reason, Yongsun didn’t feel like someone she had to filter herself around. It felt like he was talking to her as Kim Minjeong, not just Winter of aespa and maybe that meant she could be a little more honest than usual.
“…Okay,” she said after a beat. “I overthink things more than people realize. I like walking alone at night when I can. And… I’ve never been scared of performing on stage.”
Yongsun let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’m good at this game, Minjeong. It’s the third one, ain’t it?”
Her brows lifted. “How’d you figure that out?”
“Trust me,” he said, leaning back against the bench. “Every artist has moments like that. It’s basically a canon event, even I have my moments,” He glanced at her briefly. “And I’m pretty sure you mentioned once that you used to be shy and scared of being seen.”
Winter blinked. “Wait… you remembered that?”
She had told him that, once, in passing, over text. She didn’t think he’d actually hold onto it.
Yongsun shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “If I can remember Hyunsoo’s long ice cream order, I can remember the things you say.”
“Guess it’s my turn, then,” he said, shifting slightly on the bench, settling into something more comfortable.
He glanced up for a second, putting on his thinking face. “Hmm… okay. I became the bassist because me and my friends wanted to figure out who the worst guitarist was and I won. When I was nine, I pushed my sister a little too hard while we were playing and she ended up losing a tooth.” He paused, just briefly. “And… I’ve seen myself the way other people see me.”
All of it sounded possible, annoyingly possible. Any of those three statements could fit as both truth and lie.
She found herself actually thinking about it, going through each one like there was a right way to solve him. The second one felt real, too specific to make up. It sounded like something that just happened, the classic sibling experience. Even she got similar moments like that with her brother. And the third—
It fits. He carried himself like someone who knew how he came across. He was the confident type, the type that got nothing under his skin. Someone who understood his own image.
Which made the first one…
It didn’t sound right. Bassist and “worst guitarist” didn’t exactly go together. If anything, she’d heard the opposite, that bassists were usually just as good, sometimes even better than the guitarists of their band.
“…The first one?” she said.
Yongsun shook his head, a small grin forming. “Nope.”
He leaned back, clearly pleased with himself. “Knew you wouldn’t get it,” he added. “I like winning too much to make it easy.”
Winter let out a small breath, half amused, half annoyed. “Then what is it?”
He glanced at her, the grin softening just a little.
“I haven’t,” he added, quieter this time. “Seen myself the way other people do.”
Winter stilled for a moment.
She hadn’t expected that from him. She knew those thoughts had lived in them more times than she could count but hearing it from him felt… different, like she’d just stepped into a side of him she didn’t know existed.
And strangely, she didn’t mind.
If anything, it made her want to understand him more.
“…How come?” she asked, softer this time.
Yongsun let out a quiet breath. “I guess…” He paused, then gave a small shake of his head. “Hold on, I don’t know if I have the words for it.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking.
“It’s just… I feel like I’ve been—” He stopped, starting over. “Like I’ve been simplified into one thing for a while.”
“I mean, I’m not gonna deny it. I go out more than the guys. That part’s true.” A faint huff left him. “But it’s kind of the only thing people stick to.”
He glanced down, fingers tapping lightly against the bench.
“And from the outside, I guess it just makes me look… I don’t know… unserious? Like I don’t really care about what I’m doing or that I’m not as into this whole music thing as everyone else.”
He shook his head slightly.
“I mean… I had a whole different plan before this. I wanted to be a pilot for the longest time.”
A small, almost awkward smile tugged at his lips. “And then I just… didn’t because I believed in the band, in what we do. I think that was the biggest decision I made when I was maybe 17? Heck, that decision was honestly the biggest gamble I had, there were those people that were saying like, what if the band didn’t go successful or anything like that? But yeah, I think it’s my interest in music and yeah, my friends that made me decide to not apply for flight school and stay with them. I think that’s the part that people don’t see when they make those headlines of me going around the hotspots in Korea just to party.”
He exhaled, shoulders easing just a bit.
“So yeah… I don’t really think about how people see me.” A slight shrug. “It’s easier that way.”
Winter listened the entire time Yongsun spoke.
She hadn’t expected someone like him to think about himself that way. To her, he had always come off as someone who just drifted through nights and noise, someone tied to bars, clubs, and the louder side of Hongdae but hearing him like this made her realize there was more underneath that surface there was more intention, more weight.
He was still the same person she knew, but now she could see the effort behind it. Even if he had once wanted something completely different, he still chose this, and he chose it fully. That part stayed with her.
She just… didn’t know how to say any of that out loud.
And she definitely wasn’t good at responding to things like this without overthinking it.
“…I didn’t know you thought about it like that,” Winter said quietly.
Yongsun glanced at her. For a moment, his expression softened into something almost unreadable, before he reached into his pocket and pulled out two strawberry lollipops. He offered one of them to her without a word.
Winter looked at it for a while, then took it.
The two of them sat there in silence after that, facing the Han River.
The moonlight and city glow spread across the water in soft reflections, the surface shifting gently as if it was breathing with them.
For once, there was no need to fill the space between them, just the quiet presence of two people who had, in different ways, seen a little more of each other than before.
Winter was back at practice the next day, but her mind hadn’t quite caught up with her.
It kept drifting back to last night, to the river, to the things they’d said, to the things they hadn’t, maybe that was why she couldn’t focus.
In between runs, she found herself reaching for her phone more than usual. Not even consciously, just checking, unlocking, locking it again.
The only message she got from him was when she got back.
That was it and it was 10 hours ago.
Winter stared at the screen for a second longer than she needed to before turning it off again.
She didn’t even know why she was expecting anything. They weren’t… anything. They hadn’t talked about it, hadn’t defined it. It wasn’t like there was something to follow up on.
So why did it feel like there should be?
She shifted slightly, catching a faint trace of scent from her jacket, it smelled like cigarette smoke, dulled by time, mixed with something sweeter, as sweet as strawberry.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her phone.
“Time to practice again,” Karina called from across the room.
“Yeah,” Winter replied, pushing herself up.
As she walked back into formation, her grip on her phone loosened, slipping it into her pocket.
Maybe he’ll text… she thought before immediately pushing the idea away and focusing on the music that started playing again in the practice room.
The text didn’t come the next day or the day after that.
A photo lit up her screen, it was a picture of his hand with a freshly lit cigarette between his fingers.
“You’d still say no to this, right? Got strawberry candy with me.”
Winter saw it just after her schedule ended. The timestamp was only a few minutes old.
She stared at it for a second, long enough to recognize what it was doing to her, before typing back
The reply came almost immediately.
She had just gotten off schedule. She should go back. She knew she should.
And yet, a whole week of nothing, and now this. No explanation, no acknowledgment. Just… him, like nothing had happened. Her thumb hovered over the screen. Maybe this is his way of… something, she thought, even if she couldn’t quite finish the sentence.
yeah, send me the location
There were three dots, then a pin dropped into the chat.
Winter exhaled softly, already moving.
She put on a quick change into something low-key, a cap pulled down just enough, and she was out the door with her phone in hand, the map guiding her toward wherever “not far” meant tonight.
When she got there, he was already on the rooftop sitting on the edge with a cigarette between his fingers like he’d been there for a while. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard her.
Winter walked up to him, and he handed her a strawberry candy as usual, like the past week hadn’t existed.
For a second, she just looked at him.
Is he going to say anything about it?
He didn’t. Worse of all, he was out of character right now, he probably would’ve said some playful line or maybe talked about something random yet…
“You’ve been quiet,” she said instead.
“Have I?” He shrugged, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. “You still answered.”
The words sat heavier than they should have.
Because I thought you’d say something.
“So…” he glanced around the rooftop, like the moment had already passed, “you’ve been here before?”
And just like that, she didn't realize it at first but it was the start of something. The start of a tumultuous process.
He got harder to read after that.
One moment, he’d text first. The next, his replies would come hours later. If they came at all that is, even when she could see he was online.
Sometimes, he was there exactly when she needed him, staying on the line while she talked through whatever was on her mind. Other times, he was nowhere like he only showed up when it suited him. In person, he never changed.
He was still playful and still somehow able to make everything feel lighter than it should have.
And yet, he never once brought up the silence. The few times she tried, easing into it with a quiet “Where have you been?” or something close to it, he’d just laugh it off, deflect, move on like it wasn’t worth staying on.
And somehow, she let him.
It fell into a pattern before she even realized it.
A few days of constant messages.
Then nothing at all.
Suddenly, a late-night invite.
Then another stretch of silence.
After that, a sudden reappearance
And then, it repeats all over again
It went on like that for a month or two.
Long enough to confuse her more than she cared to admit. She didn’t know what was going on through Yongsun’s mind. What was his goal with all this? Does he even have an intention? What’s happening? He was very unexpected, she felt like he was leading her on but at the same time, she had that feeling that maybe she was misreading things. It was very unclear to her what was the end goal of all this was.
Then it got to a point where she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
She didn’t know what was going on but it was getting to her. The kind that lingered, that made her overthink things she normally wouldn’t.
They had never talked about it. Never defined anything. She didn’t even know if there was anything to define in the first place and somehow, that made it worse because whatever this was, it was starting to get under her skin and she was running out of patience trying to figure him out.
So she decided that the next time he disappeared, she would do the same.
That day came sooner than she expected.
After practice, her phone lit up with his name.
And for once, she didn’t open it.
Schedules filled the rest of her day, one after the other, enough to keep her distracted, enough to make her forget she was even trying.
But by the time everything slowed down, by the time she was finally back in the van with the others, heading to the dorms—
Her eyes drifted back to her phone.
The notification was still there.
She exhaled softly, almost annoyed at herself.
She said she wouldn’t respond.
Then, the van’s radio clicked. Her manager must’ve turned it up a little, filling the quiet space with music.
It was a Driveway Saints track, their new single.
The same one she had heard live weeks ago, back when it was still unreleased.
She didn’t mean to focus on it.
Didn’t mean to listen as closely as she did.
But it was like her mind did it for her, pulling her back, piece by piece.
Another one of those moments.
Another reminder she didn’t ask for.
Woo Yongsun, that was all it took for her mind to be running around in circles.
Her phone was still in her hand.
And somehow, that made it worse.
She didn’t know why she kept letting him get to her like this.
He never fully gave, he always left something unfinished, something just out of reach and she kept meeting him there anyway. It was like he was the pilot of the airplane and went around the route that wasn’t the destination.
She couldn’t read him, couldn’t predict him. She didn't know what came next and that was the worst part.
She wasn’t even angry, just frustrated at herself.
For wanting more when this, whatever this was, was already confusing enough.
Her fingers hovered over his name again.
She stared at the blinking cursor for a second longer before exhaling and clearing the text completely.
Then she locked her phone, the screen going dark in her hand.
She just didn’t know how to stop.
Then, her phone buzzed again.
She stared at it longer than she should have.
As if he didn’t disappear the same way. As if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing.
Her grip on the phone tightened slightly. She already knew where this was going and maybe that was the problem. Because for the first time, she didn’t want to follow it.
There was something that settled in, something quieter than frustration settled in her chest.
At the same time, the van stopped at the dorms and her and her members went inside the dorms while she immediately went to her room.
“Minjeong, where are you going?” Ning suddenly asked, calling her out.
“I’ll just be back in my room, just go when you need something,” Winter said as she shut the door from behind, not even waiting for another one of her members to say anything else.
Once she got on her bed, she immediately opened the message and decided to call him. The timing was almost unreal, he was online. He would pick up, If he actually did.
“Minjeong, hey. You called. Glad you’re not dead. That’s a first coming from you, usually I’m the one initiating calls. Need anything?”
There was a beat of silence on her end.
“Can you stop acting like nothing’s weird between us?”
Her grip tightened slightly on the phone.
“Don’t you think about what you’re doing? You show up and disappear whenever you feel like it, and I don’t know what’s going on. What are you even doing here? You act like you want to get to know me and then the next moment you’re unreachable.”
She swallowed, breath a little sharper now.
“I’ve tried asking you. Multiple times. Where you’ve been, what you’re doing when you’re gone and you never give me a proper answer.”
This time, she didn’t let it sit.
“What even are we, Yongsun?”
Her voice dropped slightly.
“Are you interested in me or not? Just tell me. If you don’t want this, then say it. I’m not a mind reader, I can’t keep guessing what you’re trying to do with all of this.”
Her frustration finally broke into clarity.
“I can’t keep up with your mixed signals. So, explain to me, Woo Yongsun, what is happening?”
There was silence on the line, only the faint background noise from Yongsun’s end filling the space between them. Then his voice came through again, quieter this time, more serious.
“I don’t really know what you want me to say…” He paused. “Minjeong, I’m not that deep. I just… come around when I feel like it. That’s all. ”
Even after being called out, he still wasn’t giving her a real answer, just stating it like it was normal like that was supposed to explain everything.
So what he was saying was he hadn’t been intentional about any of it? No consistency, no structure, no meaning behind the way he came and went.
Then what was all of this supposed to be?
Her thoughts tangled, sharper now, no longer slow confusion but something closer to clarity she didn’t want.
All that time she spent trying to understand him… was there even anything to understand?
She swallowed, her voice steadier than she felt.
“So what you’re saying is, you’re not being consistent?”
“Guess that clears everything up.”
Her grip tightened slightly on the phone.
“Then don’t show up at all if that’s how it is.”
A pause stretched across the line.
Then Yongsun’s voice came through, lighter this time followed by a chuckle. “You say things like that when you’re mad.”
Another silence when he read the room.
“…Oh,” he added after a beat, like something had just settled in his head. “You’re actually going through with this…”
A few seconds passed. No teasing this time, he put on a serious tone.
“Okay… if that’s what you want. I can’t really stop you. I’ve got band rehearsal tomorrow, and I’m actually hungover right now, so…” A small exhale. “If you think this is the right thing, then do what you have to do.”
Winter stayed still, eyes fixed on the screen.
He wasn’t going to stop her.
He wasn’t going to say more.
For a moment, she almost waited for something else, some clarification, some sign that this meant more than it sounded.
Her grip loosened slightly.
“…Okay,” she said quietly, mostly to herself.
Then she ended the call and the screen went dark.
And this time, she didn’t reopen it.
Winter found herself pulling back her car into the dorm parking lot after that long drive around Seoul. She hadn’t meant to drift like that, to let her thoughts circle back to him, to all of it. It had been almost a year since that call, which was the last time they spoke to each other.
She still heard about him, here and there. Mostly through passing mentions, him and Driveway Saints were still doing well in their careers, still playing, still going on with their lives but nothing beyond that.
And somehow, that was enough to keep him around.
Not in the way he used to be but in smaller, quieter ways.
In the faint smell of cigarette smoke from somewhere down the street.
In the sweetness of strawberries she didn’t think twice about before.
In the sight of a denim jacket and black jeans that caught her attention a second too long.
They didn’t mean the same anymore.
But they didn’t mean nothing, either.
She turned off the engine but didn’t get out right away, her gaze settling on the streetlights stretching across the city of Seoul.
It hadn’t been perfect and it definitely wasn’t clear either but it was real, in its own way.
There were still small moments that stayed with her.
Late nights that didn’t feel rushed.
Conversations that didn’t follow a schedule.
The way he made things feel lighter, even if only for a while.
He showed her something she hadn’t really allowed herself before, that life didn’t always have to be planned down to the minute. That there was space, somewhere in between everything, to just… exist.
Even if it didn’t mean what she thought it did.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her keys. For a moment, she let herself sit in it, just the memory, just the feeling of the time to do between the gaps.
Then she exhaled, realizing that reality settled back in.
Morning schedules. Early call times.
She stepped out of the car, the cool air grounding her as she made her way back inside.
And as she walked toward the dorms, she realized—
But they didn’t completely leave, either.
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