It was kind of cringy, kind of stalking, right? If any of his hyungs found out, they’d definitely call him a stalker. But so what if you’re the only fourth generation idol he keeps up with? So what if he follows a couple of your fan accounts on his secret Twitter account? So what if he found himself watching your content videos, even the ones with your members, when he had any free time and couldn’t get hold of you? So what if he found himself silently dying of laughter in a corner because you said something funny? He’d never tell you this, because it’d cause you to tease him endlessly and the embarrassment would eat him alive, but it was okay. Right?

He groaned quietly, burying his face in his hands.

He could lie to his members, his family, even you. But he could only to lie to himself for so long before his feelings overwhelmed him all at once.

Ni-ki would like to say the feelings just showed up, but they didn’t. It all made sense— every moment he scrambled to talk to you in his free time, every (rare) look you exchanged in the hallways when you walked past one another, every late-night conversation that lasted too long but somehow never long enough. In love songs, all he’d picture was your face. More often than not, he found himself listening to a song and thinking, “She’d like this song.” and then adding it to your playlist.

It was in the way you teased him until his face turned red, then correctly assuming he was red and teasing him even further. It was the way you effortlessly brightened his mood, how you made him feel better without him even having to say anything— it was like you could just tell when something wasn’t alright, over text messages and phone calls nonetheless. In the rare times you were at the same event, you’d give him a smile that made him feel special and seen— it was the same smile you always gave him when you greeted him on FaceTime. When you’d ramble on about something that happened earlier with the members, and you’d catch him just staring at the screen, and get all defensive, like “What?” in that indignant tone that never failed to make him smile. When it was the other way around and he caught you staring, he’d finally gain the upper hand and smirk, “Why don’t you take a screenshot, too?” When he finally brought up that you could call him by his real name, all because he wanted to hear it come from your mouth, and you smiled and repeated, “Riki,” in a soft manner that nearly sent him to the hospital. You always said his name the same way— soft and real like you weren’t just talking to the maknae of ENHYPEN, but him.

It was always there, he thinks, since the moment you met, there was a connection. It was hard to pinpoint at first since he had never felt so strongly for someone before, but when he realized it… It was impossible to ignore.

It was kind of ruining his life right now.

Instead of running through the choreography like he’d planned when he got to the company early—headphones in, water bottle in hand, ready to get in the zone—he found himself lying flat on the practice room floor, back against the cool laminate, phone inches from his face as the live video played.

You’re sitting in the middle between Jiyu and Suyi, hair pulled up in a bun with a few strands pulled in front of your face and wearing a large white hoodie. You’re holding a phone that’s not yours in your hand horizontally, eyes trained on the screen. Jiyu’s slightly behind you, with you sitting in between her legs as she plays with your stray hair strands.

“Why is Mira so flirty?” Hyeri reads from the other side of Suyi, smirking at the camera and then to you.

Your jaw drops in disbelief, and you let out a dramatic gasp, somehow nearly knocking Suyi in the head beside you, “What?! Me?” Your brows raise. “I don’t even flirt like that!”

Jiyu leans over your shoulder, grinning, “You literally flirt all the time.”

“Name one time,” you said, pointing at her like you had a case to make.

Hyeri didn’t even blink before responding, “This morning. With the barista.”

Ni-ki’s smile fades.

“That wasn’t flirting!” you laugh, eyes wide. “I was being polite!”

“With heart eyes,” Suyi adds under her breath, making everyone, including you, burst into laughter.

“But seriously,” Hyeri said, turning to the camera with a mischievous smile. “It’s not just words. She flirts with her eyes. It’s a whole thing.”

“Yeah, it’s bad,” Jiyu drags out the ‘a’ before reading out another comment. “Recommend me what to eat… Rice.”

“That’s not enough,” you roll your eyes playfully.

Ni-ki’s not listening anymore. He’s still watching, watching you smile to yourself and go back to reading comments. Usually, his heart would feel a strong sense of warmth when he looked at you. He still felt it, but it was clouded by the heavy weight on his chest.

It’s not just words. She flirts with her eyes.

He thinks of the last time you called him on FaceTime, and he was just talking and talking— which was another thing, he found it so easy to talk to you and tell you things. He didn’t know what it was, but it was nice to know there were no expectations of him from you. He was talking about everything and anything that came to mind, about Jake doing something dumb at rehearsal, how his legs hurt for no reason, how much he was craving Bungeoppang.

You were just sitting against your headboard, listening. You weren’t distracted, or doing something else while listening. You had your chin resting in your palm, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, eyes fixed on him like he was saying something important even when he wasn’t. You tilted your head sometimes, or nodded slightly, humming when he paused like you were making sure he knew you were still with him. He remembers trailing off at one point, realizing he was uncharacteristically rambling (and about his dog of all things), and you just smiled and asked a question about Bisco.

There were times he knew you were definitely flirting, mostly because teasing was definitely some type of love language for you, and you loved to tease him. You’d compliment him in any way you could, his hair, his outfit, his dances, and wouldn’t stop, even when he deflected. There were times he got to turn it back around on you.

But now, with the live still going on in front of him, the knot in his chest grew tighter. Was that just how you were? Had he just imagined it was special for him?

He shuts his phone off with a click, the screen going black. The silence in the practice room is suddenly suffocating. His chest felt weird—tight, something almost like embarrassment creeping up his neck.

This was stupid. He knew it was stupid.

But he really did think, just for a second… He sits up straight, pulling his hood over his head and tightening the strings.

Maybe he just needs to stop reading into things. Maybe this crush— whatever it was, he didn’t know— needs to stay where it was: unspoken, safely tucked away behind his nonchalant persona.

But he already knows it wasn’t that easy. If he kept talking to you, wouldn’t the feelings just grow stronger? He wasn’t willing to stop talking to you, and he wouldn’t.

He groaned loudly in the silence of the practice room. He is so deeply screwed.

One hand held up your chin, staring down at the empty pages in front of you. You were supposed to be helping with the lyrics for your group’s first English single—and yet, your pen hadn’t moved in over fifteen minutes.

Suyi’s voice echoed in your head from earlier: “You’re such a ditz nowadays, what’s gotten into you?”

You rolled your eyes at the memory, but… she wasn’t wrong.

You weren’t clueless, okay?

You could only deny the tornado of butterflies in your stomach for so long, could only deny the way your heart speeds up every time you see his name. You found yourself thinking about him when you weren’t distracted by your busy life, and sometimes, even then.

Maybe it was when you noticed that his playlist had become the first one you clicked to play. Or when you realized he always answered your calls, even if they were only three minutes long. Or when you stopped caring about how you looked before answering a FaceTime—because you knew he liked you best barefaced.

You knew this, of course, because of how many times he’s mentioned it.

One of the first times you didn’t wear makeup, you’d just gotten home from recording the music video of your Japanese debut song.

🥪 12:12AM

can we facetime? or are you still working?

You 12:14AM

if you dont mind me bareface lol i just got home im taking the makeup OFF!!!

🥪 12:14AM

??? idc 😭😭 even better

“Oh, God,” you muttered to yourself, smiling despite it. You continue to wipe your face off, immediately hitting accept when Ni-ki’s contact popped up.

Ni-ki was leaning back on his pillows, white hood lazily pulled over his messy hair. He smiled when he saw her, but then his eyebrows raised, “I thought you were taking your makeup off.”

“I am,” you laughed, making a small face at his words as you show him the dirty side of your makeup cleanser. “What do you mean?”

He squinted, “Damn.”

“What?” You laughed again, glancing at him as you trash the makeup remover. You were starting to feel slightly insecure at his vagueness, and you could only hope it wasn’t too bad.

“You look exactly the same without makeup,” he said, tilting his head. “Your cheeks are even still red.”

Jesus Christ. You laughed, mostly from embarrassment, fanning your face with one hand. “Um, it’s hot in here…” you mumbled, turning your fan on to prove a point.

Ni-ki didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his gaze lingering, even through the screen. When you glanced back at him, he was just staring at you. Not in a weird way. It was a soft look, like he was holding back from saying something.

“You’re staring,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, cheeks still flushed.

He blinked, almost like he hadn’t realized, “Oh. Sorry,” he murmured, eyes flicking away for a moment—then right back. “I was just thinking that you look… really—pretty.” The last two words were forced out quickly so you wouldn’t understand, but you did.

OhMyGod— did he just—

Your brain was making you hear things, you were sure of it until his reaction. Your breath caught in your throat, almost causing you to choke on nothing, and you’re pretty sure he saw the way your eyes widened, because he immediately started laughing nervously, pulling his hood further over his face like he could hide from what he’d just said.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that!” he defended, laughing harder now. “I mean, I-I did, but like—not in a weird way!” His voice cracked on the last word, and he tightened the strings on his hoodie immediately, covering his entire face.

You didn’t think it was weird— actually, sweet. Really sweet. The Ni-ki you got to see was different than what you saw in clips on Twitter. It made you feel like this version of him— the real him, Riki, was just for you.

You couldn’t help but grin, biting your lip to keep from teasing him too hard. “You’re the weird one,” you said, cheeks warm as you looked back down at the screen, unable to keep your eyes on him or else you’ll combust. “But thanks.”

He peeked out from under his hood again, eyes looking at you warily, “Still my number one fan?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, “I plead the fifth.”

You ended up staying on FaceTime with him for over an hour, even though you both had early mornings. He talked about their new choreography for their next comeback, and you rambled about how your company was finally letting you take some creative direction in your comebacks.

That was only just the first of many, though.

Once he seemed to have gotten the first time over and done with, he seemed more comfortable to compliment you. Sometimes, he’d send fit checks and ask for one back, always calling your outfit ‘fire’ and again, saying ‘you look pretty’ like it was nothing.

Unfortunately for you and your heart, it wasn’t nothing to you.

You glare at the empty notebook and lean back in your chair, throwing your arm over your aching eyes.

You still had nothing.

Rubbing your eyes, you pull up the track demo and play it. You liked the demo, it was more your genre. It was R&B and influenced by Miami bass, and just the instrumental had your head nodding up and down along with the rhythm.

You tap your pen against the page, sighing as the beat kicks in. You figured the start of the song could be harmonizing with the slightly eerie starting instrumental and make it not sound as eerie. You hit replay and hum along as your pen slowly presses down on the paper.

You're the only one I wanna give all my time

You bite down nervously on your lip, rereading the sentence. You thought about him even when you shouldn’t, especially when something reminded you of him in public and your brain stopped working in front of fans. You found yourself staying up later than you should have, especially on nights before your busiest days— but that was all the free time you had.

There’s just something about it

Soon as we met, I couldn’t even help it

As if on cue, your phone lit up with a new notification. You glance over and see the familiar sandwich emoji, and your lips curl up without even realizing it. You grab your phone, thumb sliding on the screen before your eyes fell down to look at the three lines written on your notebook.

It was so obvious now, it almost made you laugh. When did he start slipping into your lyrics? Your thoughts? It was staring you right in the face—how could you not notice?

Every song was becoming about him.

Before you round the corner, you stop and catch your breath. You always stayed vigilant when you were outside, and it only tripled when it was night time and you were alone, so you know no one was following you. But you glanced around anyways, fixing your messy hair even if it was going to be covered by a hood. You wish you had put on makeup before leaving, but you had a face mask on and didn’t expect to see anyone at 7-Eleven.

When you finally reached him, he’s leaning against the brick wall of the shop next to Wanjeon Mong, baseball cap under his hood and face mask on. His hands were shoved in his hoodie’s pocket, legs stretched out in front of him as he gave the area a quick once-over. His black hoodie was a new one, you noticed, and he wore plain black sweatpants. You wonder if this was him dressing down, to stay more invisible with the shadows, and look down at yourself. For now on, you’ll always dress like you’re about to get put on the news whenever you leave the house.

Your pace slowed down, not wanting to seem too eager. You were suddenly aware of every movement you made, every expression you made. You could see his head turn your way, dark eyes meeting yours before he glanced away. You smile freely underneath your face mask, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see it.

“Hey,” you said, forcing your voice to not tremble. You internally pat yourself on the back for not stuttering. “Did you have to wait long?”

Ni-ki shook his head, eyes crinkling slightly above his mask, “Hey. No, you must’ve been already done shopping, huh?” He glanced at the plastic bag in your hand.

Sure, let’s go with that.

You shrugged, lifting the bag up as if to show off, “They’re essential to me not losing my mind. Didn’t realize I’d be taking you home, too, otherwise I would’ve gotten a bigger bag.” You don’t realize how weird it sounds until the words leave your mouth, making a face at yourself before you can stop yourself.

Ni-ki laughed quietly, glancing around again before saying, “I’m light on my feet, I’m stealthy like that.”

You giggled, grateful he didn’t seem to think of your phrasing, “You are so unserious.”

“And yet, you keep me around,” Ni-ki said, and you can tell he’s still smiling. “What does that say about you, huh?”

“That I have bad judgement,” you replied dryly, already walking ahead to avoid letting him see the smile threatening your face. “And you’re my entertainment.”

Ni-ki easily caught up to you, matching your pace as the two of you turned the corner toward your building. “Entertainment?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “So I’m like… what? Your personal court jester now?”

You didn’t even know he knew what that was. You hummed, tilting your head thoughtfully, “Exactly. Ooh, do a trick!”

He snorted, shaking his head, “Unbelievable.”

“You’re a terrible court jester,” you pout, even though he couldn’t see it, patting him playfully on the arm, “You’re lucky you’re cute and can dance. Oh, how about you dance for me instead?”

Ni-ki faltered mid-step as you continued on. You noticed he stopped, and turn to look at him with your eyebrows raised. He started walking again, his hand came up to adjust the brim of his cap, and dark eyes darting ahead like he suddenly had to focus really hard on walking in a straight line. “Ha,” he muttered after a second, voice quieter this time, “I knew you only liked me for my looks and talent.”

You shook your head, biting back another smile as you pulled your hoodie further down over your forehead and scanned the empty sidewalk. The air was cool against your cheeks, your heart pounding with the adrenaline and thrill of doing something you weren’t supposed to—but it was also something that felt weirdly normal. Comfortable, like this was something you did all the time.

By the time you reached the entrance of your building, looking around to make sure no one was lurking to catch you, Ni-ki was right beside you again, hands in his pockets. “You sure about this?” he whispered, not teasing this time, but reassuring.

You met his eyes for a second, the weight of the moment settling between you. You nodded, grabbing your keycard from your sweats pocket, “Yeah,” you turn around abruptly, facing him directly with only some inches between you two. Your breath hitched, you didn’t expect him to be so close, “J-just, uh, once we get there,” you gain your composure back, but don’t make any steps back or forward, “—no noises, and follow my steps exactly. Or else I’m dead and you mysteriously vanish.”

His head tilted, nodding once, eyes crinkling again, “Copy that, boss.”

You scanned your keycard, glancing behind you once more before pushing open the door. The soft beep and click from the security system was loud, making you wince but you slipped inside quickly. Ni-ki followed closely behind, practically on your heels, and the door shut silently behind you two.

You and Ni-ki exchanged a look that said: Success so far.

The lobby was empty and only the light above the elevator was on. At this hour, staff had gone home, including all security. Your building wasn’t one that had twenty four seven staff members, something you hated before but at this moment, it was something you were thankful for.

“Come on,” you muttered, nudging Ni-ki, starting to walk forward. You avoid the sitting area of the lobby full of couches and tables, but almost run into the tall sign that indicated where the downstairs kitchen was. You pretend like you didn’t, hoping Ni-ki didn’t see that and tug him out of the way slightly. “Straight ahead is the elevator. If someone comes out, you live here. Somewhere else— not with me.”

He snickered softly, leaning in so you could hear him as he followed you to the elevator, “I’m just your cousin visiting from Japan.”

You snorted—too loud—then immediately slapped a hand over your mouth as your eyes went wide. Ni-ki was trying not to laugh, his shoulders shaking with effort. “Don’t make me regret this,” you whispered harshly, but the way your eyes crinkled made him suspect you were smiling.

You pressed the elevator button with your sleeve-covered hand, tapping your foot anxiously. The longer you weren’t in your dorm, the more likely you were to get caught by someone you wouldn’t be able to convince not to go to the media. The quiet hum of the building felt louder in the stillness. You were beginning to get paranoid, even though you knew no one could see you now.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open with a soft whoosh. Ni-ki stepped in first, leaning on the elevator wall facing the doors and slipping his hands deeper into his pockets like he belonged here. You forced yourself to look away and followed his steps, tapping your keycard against the sensor to activate the elevator panel. A green light blinked, and you pressed the eleventh floor.

The doors closed, and the elevator hummed as it ascended. You leaned against the right wall, stealing glances at each other but not saying much. There was a sort of tension surrounding you two, and you wondered if it was because you were stuck in an enclosed space, alone with him. Totally not terrifying.

“The elevator ever break and you have to walk eleven floors up with groceries?” Ni-ki broke the silence, keeping his eyes on you.

You laughed lightly, tension easing, “Once. The next time, we paid the security guards to take them up there for us.”

“Work smarter, not harder,” he chuckled.

You grinned, “I’m too pretty to be doing manual labor, anyway.”

The elevator dinged softly, and the doors slid open onto the quiet hallway of your floor. You stepped out first, glancing both ways to make sure it was empty before gesturing for Ni-ki to follow.

“This is where it gets hard,” you whispered, cautious of alerting your few neighbors as you went right and pointing down the hallway. The lights were dim, as well, but all of them were still on. “We don’t have many neighbors, so everyone knows everyone.” You pointed at a door to your left that had the numbers ‘1106’ on it in bold lettering, “That’s ajumeoni, she’s a nurse and works night shifts so we’re always quiet during the day. No one lives there or there…”

You slowed down as you two approached your door, putting your finger up to your mouth and gesturing for him to wait. The doorbell camera flashed green at you, alerting you that it senses you. You slid your keycard in and turned the handle, quickly backing up to cover the camera with the back of your hoodie. Ni-ki took the hint and slipped into your dorm first, taking his shoes off but held them in his hands instead of putting them down where your members shoes were near the entrance.

You slipped in right behind him, shutting the door with a soft click and flipping the lock as fast as you could without making it obvious you were panicking. Your back pressed against the door for a moment, and you held your breath, listening.

Silence.

No footsteps, no floorboards creaking. No doors creaking open. No call of your first name.

You slowly exhaled, feeling your heart rate calm down. You were almost done. Okay, next destination was your room, which was a bit harder. You’d have to hope that the others were asleep or didn’t care to check if they heard footsteps. Now that you were behind your locked door, you were free to tug off your face mask. You can feel Ni-ki’s eyes on you, and you can feel your cheeks start to heat up in response. He took off his own mask, but you stubbornly don’t meet his eyes and glance around, taking your shoes off at the same time.

The lights in the kitchen and living room were off, the only thing lighting up the hallway was the night light you insisted on putting in there after tripping too many times over nothing or bumping into a wall. The ceiling fan in the living room hummed faintly, blades whirling around at the fastest pace.

You gestured with your head for him to follow you, pointing at the floor and your feet. He nodded, understanding and the two of you padded down the hallway like a pair of spies in an action movie. You held the snack bag to your chest, leading him past the living room like any step could trigger alarms and lasers. Your socks made the lightest shuffle sounds against the hardwood floor.

Ni-ki nearly bumped into you when you suddenly paused at the hallway corner, your hand flying up instinctively to press against his chest and hold him back.

He blinked down at you, glancing down at your hand. He hoped you couldn’t feel his heartbeat, because it was going crazy. You pointed to a door, the light flooding from the crack under the closed door.

Both of you are slower and quieter as you pass by the bathroom door, stopping in front of your own door. A small whiteboard hung from the middle of the white door, different colors of markers lined up at the bottom of the board.

At the top, in big pink bubble letters, someone had written “Y/N’S LAIR.” Underneath, scrawled in different colored handwriting, were random notes:

I cleaned up your room, you’re welcome.

Next time you don’t clean the dishes, I’m making you take out the trash instead.

WARNING: this bitch bites!!! especially if woken up before noon on our days off

He has to hold back a laugh at the last one, smiling to himself as you quietly twist your doorknob, letting him in. You locked it behind you with a soft click.

Ni-ki took a slow look around your room—it wasn’t big, but not too small where you couldn’t have a desk and vanity. It was comfortable, lit only by the flower lamp on your bedside table next to your bed and the LED lights stuck to your headboard. Some polaroids were pinned above your desk on a cork board, an open notebook with a pen lying next to it on your desk. Posters lined up on the rest of your walls, he could see a SHINee one, and SNSD and Red Velvet. He squinted a bit to see the biggest poster, finally recognizing it as a poster of all the members of NCT. You were a SM fan, he clearly understood. Your laptop was open on your bed but asleep, surrounded by multiple plushies and pillows. Your sheets were white with a large white and purple blanket crumpled at the bottom of your bed. A song he recognized from wave to earth softly hummed from your Bluetooth speaker, the loudest thing in your room. He could faintly smell some sort of mixture of floral and fruity scent, and his eyes dropped to an unlit pink candle on your bedside table.

You dropped the 7-Eleven bag on your bed next to the plushies and let out a deep breath, finally relaxing now that you were in the clear. “See? Smooth,” you say at a normal voice as you tug off your hoodie completely, leaving you in your Jujutsu Kaisen graphic tee.

Ni-ki nodded, pulling his hood down and taking off his cap and mask. His hair was a little flattened, but you kind of liked it. “I’m impressed,” he said softly. “You’ve done this before?”

You gave him a look, flopping onto your back on your bed, “Do I look like I have a death wish?”

He grinned, tossing his hat down gently on your desk and sitting down on the pink, fluffy stool. You stifled a smile, he looked funny. And cute. “No. But you do seem a little reckless.” His eyes are still roaming around your space, catching glimpses of your life in the pictures of you and your friends. “I’m really the first person you’ve snuck in here, huh? I feel honored. Truly.”

You shot him another look, sitting up again and tucking your legs beneath you. “Don’t get cocky. You’re still on thin ice.”

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” he said with a grin, though there was a slight flush to his ears now that the tension was settling and you were really just... here. Together. In your room. Alone. And your members didn’t have a clue in the world you had let a teenage boy in your ‘lair’ as they so affectionately call it. His members didn’t know, he probably told them something about practicing more. It was totally something you’d read in a book.

“Not dancing for me is the number one offense,” you nodded, face serious. “Thin ice, buddy.”

Ni-ki raised his hands in mock surrender, a teasing spark in his eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll bust out the moves if it means I get to stay.”

You squinted at him, trying to keep your expression stern, “You think this is a joke, Icky Boy?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, but his lips twitching up betrayed him, “Of course not. Nothing funny about sneaking a boy in your room—“ your eyes narrowed at him and he grinned, no longer hiding it, “— Don’t I look funny sitting in your room surrounded by pastel colors and— and plushies?”

You gasped, grabbing the closest plushie from him before he could touch it and clutching it to your chest dramatically, “Don’t make fun of my plushies! Niles is very sensitive, and he’s worth more than your shoes, actually.”

“Which pair?” He teased.

You stuck your tongue out at him, but your smile was hard to hide. The tension from sneaking around was melting away, leaving behind something lighter, easier to breathe in. The song had switched from wave to earth and was now playing an EXO song. You turned up the volume on your speaker, not enough to make one of the members knock on your door to tell you to turn it down, but loud to where they wouldn’t be able to hear anything but the music. You reached into the plastic bag and tossed him the chips without even asking, and he caught it with a lazy ease that made you roll your eyes.

“Hater,” he shot at you, pulling open the bag of chips.

“I’m your number one hater,” you nodded in agreement, eyeing him to see what else you could complain about. You watch him pull a chip out of the bag with his left hand, offering it to you first. Your cheeks heat up, but you ignore it and instead ask, “You’re left-handed? Ew.”

“Ew?” he repeated in disbelief, blinking at you. “… Seriously?”

“You’re so weird,” you scrunched your nose up playfully at him, “Weirdo. I knew there had to be something wrong with you.”

“Oh no,” he groaned slightly, putting the chip in his mouth. “You’re one of those people.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, lifting up your right hand and waving it around it, “Right-handed supremacy.”

“Discriminating against left-handed people?” Ni-ki teased, leaning back in your desk chair, “Oh no, I wonder what the Internet would have to say about that. You’re going to get cancelled.”

“Only if you tell,” you smiled, resting your head on your hand, “And if you do, I’ll fight you.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Fight me?” He glanced over you, “You?”

“I could take you,” you scoffed, leaning up to sit upright. He followed your movements, sitting straight in the chair.

“With those tiny fists?” Ni-ki laughed, “Yeah, right. Doubt it.”

“My hands aren’t tiny!” You protested, putting Niles aside like you were actually getting ready to throw hands, “Yours are just excessively large for someone your age. And you underestimate me! I have the element of surprise,” you list off, putting one and then two fingers up, “And I am full of rage that’s been begging to be let out.”

Ni-ki laughed again, tilting his head as he looked at you. “Oh, you’re one of those girls. Small, angry, and delusional.”

You gasped. “Delusional?! You know what? Let’s settle this right now.”

“Yeah?” He leaned forward a little, elbows resting on his knees, gaze flicking over your face with something teasing but curious beneath it. “How?”

You held up your right hand, wrist limp like you were about to slap him, but then closed your fingers and stuck your thumb up, “Thumb war.”

Ni-ki snickered, scooting forward with the chair to reach you without having to lean far, “You’re going down.”

“No mercy,” you warned, locking your fingers with his dramatically. “Three, two, one— go!”

Your thumbs immediately began battling like your life depended on it. You lunged first, but he dodged easily, eyebrows lifting in mock surprise. “Wow,” he said, trying not to laugh. “You really came at me.”

“I told you I’m full of rage,” you huffed, concentrating. “Years of unprocessed anger and being wronged by the girls. This is personal.”

He was laughing now, trying to fight back without crushing your hand, “Sister trauma, huh? I can relate.”

You grin a little at the thought of your members being considered your sisters, but don’t get easily distracted, pinning his thumb down for half a second. You go to cheer quietly, but he wiggled free and laughed, “You thought!”

“Cheater,” you hissed, both of you now holding hands in the weirdest, most competitive grip possible.

“Sore loser,” he grunted lightly, thumb slipping over yours and holding it down, grinning. “Got you.”

“Cheater,” you insisted, pulling your hand back like you’d just been burnt.

Ni-ki shook his head, that annoying proud smile on his face, “Loser.”

“You’re so annoying,” you muttered, shaking out your hand like the loss physically wounded you. But before you could fully retreat, he caught your wrist gently, fingers wrapping around it without thinking. You paused. He wasn’t even gripping tightly, just… holding it. His hand creeped up, lining up with your hand now. And now your hands were back in the space between you, palms facing, fingers still close.

Your eyes darted down. You could feel your hand shaking lightly, even as you pressed your palm to his slowly, lining your fingers up together. His hand easily eclipsed yours, fingers longer, slightly calloused from dance practice, warm even through the gentle pressure.

“Tiny hands,” Ni-ki said quietly, nodding like it confirmed it for him. Neither of you moved away. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the way his fingertips passed yours slightly. His thumb brushed yours once, like it was testing something, and then decided, resting against yours. His pinky curled slightly around yours.

You glanced at him, “Yup. You’re an alien.”

He looked away from your hands, “And you’re a dwarf. What else is new?”

The two of you back away at the same time, letting your hands fall to your sides. He broke eye contact first, clearing his throat and looking at your cork board. “Which one’s your favorite?”

You follow his gaze to the polaroids, all displaying you with different members, even other idols, some he recognized to be IVE and NewJeans members, but none of people who looked like you. “What, picture?”

“Yeah.”

You hummed, putting your finger on your chin as you looked at them all and thought about it, finally pointing at the one in the top right corner, “Probably that one.” The polaroid is old, you can tell by how it’s faded. A younger version of you and Hyeri are in the picture, your mouth full of red velvet cake and the same cake smeared all over Hyeri’s face, mouth caught open in mid-scream. You smiled. “It’s from before we even debuted, back in 2019. It was Suyi’s birthday, and Jiyu dared her to shove some of the cake in Hyeri’s face. I laughed so hard I choked. But so worth it for her reaction.”

He grinned, turning back toward you, “You look happy in it.”

You paused, smile dimming just slightly. “I was,” you said quietly, almost surprised at yourself for being that honest.

He nodded, gaze drifting back up to the cork board. He kept looking, his expression was hard to read now—not blank, not overly focused, just… thoughtful. You watched him for a second too long, the silence stretching in a way that made your chest tighten a little. You could only imagine what he was thinking. Had he noticed that the only people who were frequently on the board were your members and a couple of other idols you were close to?

Ni-ki spoke up before you could, “You miss being a normal person?”

You blinked, caught off guard from the question, “What?”

He glanced over at you, almost sheepish, like maybe he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but continued on anyway, “I mean—like, before all this. The training, the fans, the cameras… when things were simpler.”

You hesitated, looking down at your blanket. Your first instinct was to laugh it off, saying something cringey like “No, I wouldn’t change it for the world.” But that wasn’t the truth. You looked back up, not exactly looking him in the eye but saying, “Yeah, sometimes.”

Sometimes, when you watch the other members go home to their families during the holidays, or see their parents cheering them on at concerts, you feel it. That ache. You’re not even sure what exactly it is you miss—it’s not like your life before all this was picture-perfect. But maybe it’s the idea of what you could’ve had— the version of family you built in your head never really matched the one you came from.

Ni-ki nodded slowly, gaze returning to the cork board, “You have a lot of pictures with your members.”

You followed his gaze, nodding, “Yep. They’re basically all I’ve got, they’re in every memory I have.” The words came out before you could stop yourself— your tone was too quick, too flat. It was noticeable that something was off. You regretted them the second they left your mouth.

But Ni-ki didn’t flinch, just asked, “Your family doesn’t like taking pictures?”

You shook your head, a small breath escaping as you sank back into your pillows, “There’s not much to put up.” Not ones that didn’t want to make you tear it up and cry and scream. You glanced at him, contemplating with yourself if you should continue before slowly saying, “I… They’re just not really my family anymore.”

Ni-ki’s eyes softened, and he gave a slow, understanding nod, that filled you with relief, “I get it. Sometimes family isn’t just who we’re blood related to—it’s the ones that choose you and you choose back.” He shifted slightly, offering a small, reassuring smile.

You smiled back, but couldn’t handle keeping eye contact with him any longer than for a few seconds and you looked away, “Exactly.” You glanced back at him before looking away again, “Are you close with your members? I know you guys came from a survival show, and that couldn’t have been easy, you know, being competition and all that before.”

Ni-ki shifted in his seat, understanding you wanted a topic change, and rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully as he looked down, “Yeah, we’re close. I mean, it was kind of weird once you thought about it. It was supposed to be every man for himself one day, and then the next, you’re supposed to be a team who works together well. But I was already close with some of the members like Jay, so it wasn’t too bad. I missed the other trainees, my friends, and it would be hard sometimes for all of us to work together, especially once we started living together properly without cameras on us twenty four seven.” You frowned. “But… I think it was the best outcome,” he nodded, looking up at you, “I couldn’t imagine not debuting with the six of them, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

You smiled softly, chin resting in your hand as you now lay on your stomach, “That’s so cute. I love a good feel good story. A real coming-of-age Netflix original.”

Ni-ki laughed, a full belly laugh that made your smile turn into a grin and you had to look away, feeling warm all over. You didn’t even realize it, but the playlist was back to wave to earth again. You easily recognized it at the start of ‘love’, feeling heat travel to your cheeks. Jesus Christ, you want to somehow throttle the shuffle feature so bad right now.

Ni-ki seemed to notice the sudden shift in your energy, his laugh tapering off as he tilted his head at you with a small, teasing smile. “What?” he asked, voice quieter now, like he knew something had changed but didn’t want to call it out too loud.

You shook your head quickly, playing it off, “Nothing. Stupid song shuffle.”

His eyes lit with quiet amusement, “Wave to earth again?”

You groaned, bringing a penguin plushie to your face, “I swear, it’s not on purpose.”

He chuckled softly, and you heard the stool creak as he leaned forward a little. “You’ve got good music taste, I’ll give you that. But it could be a little better.”

You lower the plushie, raising your eyebrows at him, “Oh, yeah?” You push yourself up in your elbows, “Are you gonna give me recommendations?”

Ni-ki smirked like he’d been waiting for you to ask, bringing his phone out of his pocket. “Obviously,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Consider this a public service.”

You squinted at him playfully, “You better not say something basic like your own songs.”

“Our songs aren’t basic,” he pointed at you, unlocking his phone with his other hand, “And they are great, so I am going to.“

You raised your eyebrows, “Spare me. I’ve already listened to them all.”

Ni-ki’s head lifted from looking at his phone, his own brows raising as a smirk appeared, “Oh, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping back dramatically onto your pillows, “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Ni-ki grinned, clearly enjoying himself and the new information he now had, “Too late. You’re my fan.”

You grabbed a pillow this time and chucked it at him—he dodged effortlessly, laughing as it hit the floor behind him. “I’m not your fan,” you argued, “There’s six other people participating in the songs, you know?”

“But you listen to my music, and I’m your bias because you know me best,” he winked, nodding to himself as he went back to his phone. “No need to lie.” The song changed, and Ni-ki immediately recognized it was Polaroid Love. His grin was immediate, head shooting up to look at you, who was already covering your face with your hands.

The shuffle was seriously out to get you.

Ni-ki nearly doubled over laughing, phone still in hand, “No way.”

You groaned into your palms, “I’m actually going to delete this app.”

“The universe is on my side! Let’s go!” He cackled, kicking his legs a little where he sat, full-on entertained now.

“I hate you,” you huffed, “It went viral, how could I not have it on my playlist?”

“Do you have more songs? Let me see your playlist!” Ni-ki looked a bit crazy now as he lunged for your laptop and you squealed, trying to snatch it away from him and prevent him from landing on you at the same time. He managed to not crush you and landed on his side right next to you, arms stretching over your head.

“No! Go away,” you laughed, grabbing your laptop and putting it on the other side of your bed. “My playlists are private.”

“And here I was, willing to share my playlists with you,” Ni-ki scoffed, “Even willing to make you your own playlist. Crazy.”

So annoying— wait. Hold on a second. He was going to make a playlist just for you to listen to? You don’t ever remember discussing playlists with him, nevermind the fact that you’ve always wanted someone to make you a playlist. It was something you read about in a romance book once, and it struck something within you.

You lifted your head up, eyes narrowing at him, “Hey. My own playlist? Huh—“

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow at your soft tone but didn’t back down, just smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah. Personalized. Created by me. With love and care,” he said dramatically, like he was trying to convince you to buy a scam product.

“Who says I’ll even like these songs?” You asked, feeling your heart beat erratically in your chest. You flop onto your back, no longer so close to him. He only copied your movements, laying on his back next to you.

“Me,” he scoffed, going back to his phone where the Melon app was pulled up. “You want it or not?” He glanced over at you, face softening like he was checking if you genuinely wanted it or not— like he was afraid you’d say no. He was crazy, you decided.

“Shut up,” your voice is muffled into the Hello Kitty plushie you’re holding up to your face. “Send me the damn link already.”

He grinned, “Knew it.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” you groaned, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You were just glad he couldn’t see it.

Ni-ki turned his head to look at you, the plushie still blocking your face from his view. He smiled to himself, looking back at his phone and created the playlist, titling it, ‘for my #1 fan’ and laughed at himself out loud.

You brought the plushie down, looking at him curiously, “What?”

“Nothing,” he snickered, the grin on his face giving him away, “Hold on, keep the plushie away from your face—“

You narrowed your eyes, “Why?”

“Because I want to see your face when you get this,” he murmured, tapping on his phone a few times with suspicious glee.

Your phone buzzed with the notification a moment later. You glanced down, unlocking your phone and clicking on the text and the link. You stared at your screen for a moment before looking back up at him slowly.

“… For my number one fan?” you read out loud, deadpan. “Seriously?”

He laughed, “I’m going to start a rumor that I’m your bias,” he paused, “Oh, wait… It’s not a rumor if it’s true, huh?”

You stared at him in disbelief before taking the Hello Kitty plushie and aim to smack him with it, “I hate you.”

Ni-ki just laughed, catching the pillow mid-swing this time, “You wanted this, remember?”

You paused, the plushie still in your hands, your scowl melting into something softer, dangerously close to fond. The playlist was still open on your screen, the title teasing you in bold letters. You let out a quiet breath, letting the plushie drop back onto your chest as you turned your head to look at him. His smile hadn’t faded, still smug and boyish, like he knew exactly what he was doing. “Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, forcing yourself to stop looking at him for too long, “I expect top notch songs.”

“Only the best for the best,” Ni-ki laughed, going back to add songs.

Your face heated up for the nth time that night, bringing the plushie back to your face and cuddling into it, nearly restricting your breath.