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The day had started like any other, predictable, routine, almost painfully ordinary.

The fluorescent lights hummed softly above your head as your teacher droned on about something you were only half-listening to, your pen lazily tapping against your notebook.

Around you, your classmates whispered to each other, passing notes, stifling giggles, completely checked out despite the lesson still technically being in session.

You were the same. Just another normal day at your all-girls high school. Nothing special, nothing exciting.

At least, that’s what you thought.

The sudden crackle of the loudspeaker interrupted everything, the sharp sound making a few girls in the class jump.

“Attention students,” the voice echoed throughout the room, slightly distorted but clear enough to command attention. “There will be a special performance in the auditorium today. Please make your way there immediately.”

The room instantly erupted.

“Wait, what performance?”

“Is it like a play?”

“No, no, it has to be a guest or something!”

You blinked, straightening in your seat, your brows knitting together in confusion. A performance? No one had mentioned anything about this. There hadn’t been flyers, announcements, nothing leading up to it.

Your curiosity sparked instantly.

You slipped your notebook into your bag, standing along with the rest of the class as your teacher tried, and failed, to regain control of the excited chatter.

“Alright, single file—please don’t run—!”

No one listened.

The hallways buzzed with energy as students poured out of classrooms, voices overlapping, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors. You adjusted the strap of your backpack on your shoulder, letting yourself be carried along with the crowd toward the auditorium.

Your heart was already beating a little faster, though you couldn’t quite explain why.

Maybe it was just the sudden change in routine. Maybe it was the anticipation, or maybe, it was something else entirely.

The moment you stepped into the auditorium, you felt it. That shift in atmosphere.

The air was thicker somehow, buzzing with excitement and something electric, like the calm before a storm. Rows of seats filled quickly as teachers guided students into place, but no one could sit still. The chatter grew louder, more frantic, more eager.

“What if it’s idols?”

“No way—they wouldn’t come here.”

“Shut up, imagine if they did—”

You let out a quiet breath, sliding into a seat among your classmates, your eyes drifting toward the stage.

The curtains were drawn. But behind them, you could hear it, the faint sound of movement. Footsteps. The low hum of music equipment being adjusted. A distant voice, muffled but unmistakably real.

Your fingers curled slightly against your skirt. Something about this felt… different.

Then, a deafening wave of shrieks erupted as the doors at the back of the auditorium slammed open.

Your head whipped around instinctively, your breath catching in your throat. And then, you saw them.

CORTIS.

They were right there, entering through the main doors, weaving through the aisles, singing live as if the entire space belonged to them.

The opening notes of their song rang out, clear and powerful, echoing through the auditorium as the members moved forward with effortless confidence.

And then, your heart stopped.

Seonghyeon.

He was just a few rows away from you, walking down the aisle like he belonged in a completely different world than this one, and yet, somehow, he was here, at your school.

Your Seonghyeon. He looked unreal.

His uniform was styled perfectly, crisp and fitted in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome, like he had stepped straight out of a drama. His hair fell just right across his forehead, slightly tousled from movement, his expression bright and alive.

He was smiling, laughing, singing like this was the most natural thing in the world.

And yet, you knew him. Not just as an idol,  but as the boy who sent you random messages at 2 a.m., who whined about missing you, who begged for your attention like he couldn’t go a day without it.

Your chest tightened, because right now, no one else in this room knew that.

To them, he was Seonghyeon of CORTIS.

To you, He was everything.

Your classmates screamed beside you, gripping your arm, completely losing their minds as the members got closer.

“Oh my god—oh my god—they’re right there—!”

You barely heard them though, Seonghyeon’s gaze had lifted, and It landed on you.

Time seemed to freeze.

The noise, the lights, the chaos, it all faded into nothing as his eyes locked onto yours with a familiarity that sent a jolt straight through your entire body.

He smiled, not the practiced, public smile he gave fans. But his smile.

Your breath hitched. For a second, just a second, it felt like it was just the two of you in the room.

But then he looked away, seamlessly slipping back into the performance, his voice blending with the others as they made their way toward the stage.

The crowd surged with excitement as the members climbed up, the performance transitioning smoothly into a full stage routine.

Lights flashed, music swelled. The choreography snapped into place with perfect synchronization.

But you, you couldn’t focus. Not on the performance, not on the crowd, not on anything except him.

Seonghyeon moved across the stage with an ease that made your heart ache, his laughter spilling out between lyrics, his expressions bright and full of life. He teased the crowd, interacted with his members, his energy infectious in a way that had everyone completely captivated.

But every so often, he looked at you. Just long enough to make your stomach flip. Like a secret, like a reminder. I’m here.

Your fingers curled against your lap, your pulse racing as you tried to act normal.

Because how were you supposed to act normal when your boyfriend was performing in front of your entire school?

When no one knew? When you had to sit there, quietly, like he was just another idol?

It felt unreal.

You hadn’t even realized when he had moved toward the edge of the stage, your breath catching as he stepped down slightly, just enough to be within reach of the front row.

Your row. Your heart slammed against your ribs.

His eyes flickered to yours again. A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at his lips as he continued singing, his movements fluid, natural.

But his hand lifted. subtle, hidden in plain sight. 

Motioning you.

Your breath hitched. For a split second, you hesitated, your mind racing.

Was this really happening? Was he—

Your instincts answered for you. Slowly, carefully, you extended your hand toward him, trying to keep your movements small, unnoticeable.

Your fingers hovered just at the edge of the stage. In one smooth motion, timed perfectly with the choreography. His hand brushed against yours.

Your entire body froze, before you could even react, he slipped something into your palm.

Gone just as quickly as it came. He pulled away instantly, spinning back into formation like nothing had happened, like it was just another part of the performance. Like he hadn’t just set your entire world on fire.

Your fingers curled tightly around the paper, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure someone would hear it.

The performance continued, the music swelling, the crowd screaming, but you barely registered any of it as you carefully, carefully opened your hand just enough to peek at what he had given you.

A small piece of paper, folded neatly.

Your throat felt dry as you unfolded it slowly, shielding it from view.

And then, you read it.

“Meet me in the empty classroom after the performance.”

Your heart nearly stopped. A rush of warmth flooded your chest, your lips parting slightly in disbelief.

He—

Of course he would. Of course he couldn’t just leave without seeing you.

Your grip tightened around the note, your cheeks warming as you quickly folded it back up, hiding it safely in your hand.

The rest of the performance passed in a blur.

All of it felt distant compared to the way your heart raced, your thoughts spinning, your entire being focused on one thing, him.

And the fact that in just a little while, you’d be alone with him again.

The hallways were quiet in a way that made your heart pound with anticipation. The note felt like a secret treasure clutched in your hand, a lifeline to a world where you could be with him, away from screaming fans and flashing cameras.

When you arrived at the designated classroom, it was empty, the late afternoon sun casting long, warm streaks across the floor.

And there he was. Seonghyeon leaned against the wall, his uniform blazer slightly open, his hair falling perfectly around his eyes, the very picture of someone who could make anyone’s heart flutter.

As soon as he saw you, his usual grin brightened further, and without a word, he closed the distance between you and wrapped you in a hug.

You melted into him, burying your face into his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammering against your own. He smelled like the subtle mix of his cologne and the faint scent of the stage, of sweat and energy, of home somehow.

You lifted your head just enough to look at him. Even in your school uniform, with a simple skirt and blouse, he made you feel like the only girl in the world. His eyes shone with a mix of relief and longing.

“Hey, you,” he murmured softly, his voice low and warm, vibrating gently through his chest where you rested against him. His hand slid up your back, holding you closer. “You came.”

You huffed quietly, pulling back just enough to look up at him, your hands still clutching onto his blazer like you weren’t ready to let go.

“Of course I came,” you said, your voice softer than you expected. “You really thought I wouldn’t?”

His grin softened, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every detail all over again.

“I don’t know,” he teased lightly, though his voice held something more beneath it. “Maybe you’d be too busy fangirling over us.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips gave you away instantly. “Please. I was only looking at one person.”

His expression changed immediately. That teasing glint in his eyes flickered into something softer, something almost shy, but not quite enough to hide the way his lips curled upward again. “Oh?” he hummed, leaning in just slightly. “And who would that be?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned forward and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek.

The reaction was instant. He froze for half a second before letting out a soft laugh, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, his smile turning a little bashful.

“You always do that,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Say things like that and then, what, expect me not to get embarrassed?”

You pulled back just enough to look at him properly, your fingers brushing lightly against his sleeve.

“You’re already embarrassing enough,” you teased softly. “Showing up at my school like this? Performing in front of everyone? And then, this?” You lifted the note slightly between your fingers.

He laughed again, brighter this time, stepping closer, if that was even possible, and slipping his hand into yours.

“I couldn’t help it,” he admitted easily, intertwining your fingers like it was second nature. “You were here. I was here. There was no way I wasn’t going to see you.”

You leaned into his side, feeling the warmth radiate from him. The classroom was small, the sun catching the dust motes in the air, but in that moment, it felt like the entire world had shrunk to just the two of you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you murmured softly, brushing your fingers along his cheek. “You’re supposed to be performing, yet here you are, acting like a lovesick teenager.”

“I am a lovesick teenager,” he admitted instantly, with zero shame. “Because of you. Every day, I miss you. Every moment we’re apart, I’m thinking about you.”

Your heart did that stupid, fluttery thing it always did when he confessed like that. He pulled you closer, arms wrapping around your shoulders, forehead resting against yours. “Seonghyeon… you’re impossible,” you whispered, your breath mingling with his.

“Mm,” he hummed, resting his chin on the top of your head. “And you love it. Don’t lie.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling, nuzzling into him. “Maybe I do.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, then another to your temple, each one slow and lingering, like he was memorizing your scent, your warmth, your presence. “I wish… I wish I could stay with you forever,” he confessed, voice low, almost vulnerable.

Your chest tightened at the sincerity in his words. “Me too,” you admitted, holding his hand tighter. “But… your friends, your schedules… you have to go.”

He groaned, letting out a mock dramatic sigh, resting his head against yours. “I hate it. Hate it so much. But I know… we’ll see each other soon. That’s enough for now, right?”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Right. It’s enough.”

He tilted his head up, his eyes catching yours with that mischievous spark he always had. “Enough to… get a few kisses before you go?”

You laughed, a soft, breathy sound, shaking your head. “You know we can’t. Not now.”

“Fine,” he said with exaggerated disappointment, but then his lips found yours anyway, quick and soft. “Just a little one.”

The kiss was brief, but it carried all the longing, all the missed days, all the secret love between you two. When he pulled back, his grin returned, sheepish yet infuriatingly charming. “See? That wasn’t so bad, huh?”

You pressed your forehead to his, smiling, heart still racing. “Whatever you say baby,” you repeated, but your words had no bite, only warmth.

He chuckled, shaking his head, and leaned back slightly, taking your hands in his again. “I love you too.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and he noticed immediately. “Red already? Heh, cute,” he teased, poking your nose gently.

“Seonghyeon!” you squealed, swatting at him, but couldn’t hide your grin.

He laughed, that warm, ringing laugh that made everything feel safe. “I’m serious. You’re mine. And I’m yours. That’s all that matters. The rest… is just details.”

Your heart thudded, because even though you both knew the reality, that he was a famous idol, and you were just a high school student, here, in this quiet classroom, nothing else mattered. You leaned in and kissed him again, slower this time, pressing against him like you wanted to make up for every moment apart.

He groaned softly against your lips, his hands cupping your face gently, thumbs brushing along your jawline. “I could get lost in this… in you… forever,” he murmured between kisses.

You smiled into the kiss, resting your hands against his chest. “I don’t want this moment to end either,” you whispered.

“But it has to,” he said reluctantly, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were glossy, and his usual teasing smirk softened into something tender, almost heartbreaking. “I have to leave soon. The others… we can’t stay. But…”

He leaned down, brushing his nose against yours, holding you as close as he could. “We’ll see each other again. Promise me you’ll wait for me?”

“Always,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his cheek, then his temple. “Always, Seonghyeon.”

He groaned dramatically, hugging you one last time before letting go, his hands lingering on yours, squeezing gently. “Ugh… I hate leaving. But… seeing you like this… worth it.”

You smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “We’ll see each other soon. You’ll be back before you know it.”

He kissed your hand, looked at you with a grin that was equal parts silly and heart-melting, then backed toward the door. “I better be back soon, or I’m sending Juhoon and Martin to drag me back!”

You laughed, waving at him. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, handsome.”

He froze, turned, and blew you a playful kiss from the doorway. “You know I’ll keep them, for you.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the classroom, heart racing, fingers still tingling from his touch.

For the rest of the day, you floated through the halls, clutching the little note he had slipped into your hand, replaying every glance, every smile, every soft whisper of his voice in your mind. You couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop thinking about him.