skye ⭑

the thing about being a part of cortis was that you learnt very early that challenges rarely stayed about the actual challenge for long, because at some point—usually within the first thirty seconds—everyone collectively forgot what they were supposed to be doing and started treating the entire thing like a scientific breakthrough, a psychological experiment, or a competition to see who could embarrass themselves the fastest in front of a camera.

today’s challenge was soda. just soda.

the objective was simple enough that even the staff had looked relieved while explaining it, because for once there weren’t a million separate rules and a complicated scoring system involved, unlike your seniors’ (seventeen sunbaenims) games. 

all your group had to do was make a bottle of soda explode as high as possible. that was it, which, naturally meant the boys were about to make it far more complicated than necessary.

the explanation had barely ended before everyone scattered around the field, clutching their bottles and immediately developing wildly different approaches.

juhoon entered what could only be described as ‘professor mode’, turning his bottle over in his hands while muttering something about pressure, carbonation and liquid displacement under his breath. every few seconds, he’d tap the side of it thoughtfully and nod to himself, as though he was making groundbreaking discoveries nobody else could possibly understand.

martin somehow managed to be even worse. rather than actually experimenting with the bottle, he’d started reading the label. not skimming over it, not checking one or two details, but genuinely standing there and reading every single line as though he expected a written examination afterwards.

“dude, why are you reading the ingredients?” you questioned. 

he didn’t even glance up. “because there could be useful information.”

“on the nutritional label?”

“you don’t know that.”

“i think i do.”

“well, i’m covering all possibilities.”

the camera immediately zoomed in on him.

the editors, clearly recognised an opportunity when they saw one, because they would later add dramatic music and a caption that read: future scientist martin? ∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) ?

across the field, seonghyeon had already decided he was an expert despite doing absolutely nothing. he shook his bottle once, nodded to himself and announced, with all the confidence of a man unveiling a revolutionary invention, “i already know how to win.”

everyone turned to stare at him.

“you haven’t done anything,” juhoon pointed out. 

“exactly.”

“that doesn’t make any sense.”

“it will. later.”

it didn’t. nobody ever understood what he meant, least of all seonghyeon himself. 

keonho wasn’t much better either, to be completely honest. he was standing with his bottle upside down, staring at it with a level of concentration that suggested he was trying to communicate with it telepathically. every now and then he’d flip it around, narrow his eyes and continue staring.

“what are you doing?” martin questioned seriously. 

“thinking.”

“about what?”

“not sure yet.”

“okay. i guess?”

“i’ll let you know when i figure it out.”

and then there was james. you could always tell when he became competitive because he developed this frighteningly serious expression, like somebody had personally challenged his honour and he now had no choice but to dedicate the next several hours of his life to proving them wrong.

he was holding the bottle in both hands, examining it from every angle imaginable—turning it around, looking at the cap, looking at the label, looking at the liquid inside. he genuinely looked like somebody who’d just been handed classified government documents.

you watched him for a few moments while he continued to watch the bottle which, unfortunately, refused to reveal any state secrets.

then you looked down at your own, and opened it.

the soft hiss of the cap wasn’t particularly loud, but somehow it managed to bring the entire room to a halt.

every head snapped towards you. conversations paused; movements stopped. even some of the staff looked interested.

the editors would later add serious music over the footage because the boys genuinely looked convinced they were about to witness some kind of revolutionary strategy. you could practically see the thoughts passing through their heads.

‘yn’s doing something.’

‘she’s figured it out, hasn’t she?’

‘she has a plan.’

‘damn it, we can’t compete with someone who finished high school, unlike some of us.’

you twisted the cap open and lifted the bottle to your lips, and for a moment, everything in the field just… paused, like the entire challenge had collectively decided to stop breathing and wait for something important to happen.

juhoon was mid-gesture, still talking about carbonation like he was presenting a thesis, martin had frozen with the label in his hands, keonho had tilted his bottle slightly mid-thought, and even james, who had been staring at his own drink like it held the secrets of the universe, looked up immediately.

you took a sip, then another, then another, before lowering the bottle with a small, satisfied breath.

“ah,” you said. “it’s still cold. nice.”

there was a beat of silence, heavy and immediate, like everybody was processing something deeply offensive.

“that’s it?” seonghyeon asked, throwing his hands up like he physically could not accept what he had just witnessed.

“you just drank it?” juhoon said, sounding genuinely betrayed, as though you had broken some unspoken rule of physics itself.

“we all stopped working for that?” keonho added, already rubbing his face like the situation was giving him a headache.

martin didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you for a long moment before slowly looking away, as if he needed recovery time.

james lowered his bottle slightly, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “you had everybody’s attention,” he said, still looking at you like there had to be more to it than this.

“i was thirsty,” you replied simply, like that explained absolutely everything.

“that’s not the point,” he said immediately, shaking his head like the answer offended him.

“it feels like the point,” you added, taking another small sip like nothing in the world was urgent.

“you looked so confident,” he said, gesturing slightly with his bottle, still trying to reverse-engineer what went wrong.

“because i was thirsty,” you repeated.

“you made it look like you had a strategy,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly now.

“i did have a strategy,” you said, pausing just enough for him to react.

“what strategy?” he asked immediately, already regretting asking.

you lifted the bottle again, almost proudly this time. “drink,” you said.

the collective reaction was instant, like something inside everyone had just given up at the same time.

“that’s it,” seonghyeon said, leaning back dramatically.

“i can’t believe this,” keonho said, turning away like he needed space from the disappointment.

“we all stopped for her hydration,” juhoon said flatly, staring at the sky like it had answers.

martin covered his face with both hands. “bruh.”

james just stood there for a moment, still looking at you, still processing, still refusing to accept that this was the full story. “you know what,” he said eventually.

“what?” you asked.

“i actually think that’s worse,” he added.

you smiled immediately. “thank you,” you said.

“that wasn’t a compliment,” he said at once, though his voice had already softened slightly.

“i’m choosing to believe it was,” you replied.

james shook his head, but there was already a faint smile threatening at the corner of his mouth, like he was annoyed at himself for even finding this funny.

“you realise we’re supposed to be winning, right?” he reminded you.

“you realise i am winning, right? this isn’t a team game.” you rolled your eyes. 

“it’s not a competition yet.”

“it is, in my heart,” you sighed.

“that’s not a real category to classify this under,” he said.

“it is, if you lose there,” you replied smoothly. 

somewhere behind him, seonghyeon laughed. “oh, he’s gone,” he said.

“what?” james asked quickly.

“you’ve been smiling the whole time,” keonho added, pointing like it was evidence in court.

“i have not,” james defended immediately.

“you have,” you bit back at the same time.

“no,” he said again, weaker now.

“you literally laughed,” juhoon added.

“that doesn’t count,” james rubbed his forehead.

“it absolutely counts,” martin said quietly from behind his hands.

before james could recover, juhoon stepped forward and casually slung an arm over his shoulder.

“james,” he said.

“what,” james replied, already suspicious.

“if you’re done flirting with the competition,” juhoon said flatly, “you should probably go back to your bottle.”

there was a full second of silence, and then everything collapsed at once. james froze completely while you nearly choked. keonho lost it, and somewhere beside him, seonghyeon practically fell over laughing, and martin just slowly shook his head like this was the worst joke ever.

and the challenge, for all practical purposes, stopped mattering right there.

the next thirty minutes somehow became six completely different challenges happening at the same time, in the same space, with the same people, except nobody was doing what they were actually supposed to be doing and everyone had just accepted that the rules were more of a suggestion than anything else.

juhoon, somehow, had fully committed himself to becoming the self-appointed scientist of the group, which meant that every few minutes he would gather everyone around like a lecture was about to begin, and proceed to explain actual physics with the seriousness of someone being graded on it.

“pressure increases when gas molecules are trapped in a confined space,” he said.

everyone nodded like this was extremely important information.

“carbon dioxide builds up when shaken,” he added.

more nodding.

“and bottle structure affects explosion height,” he continued.

deep, respectful silence. it genuinely felt like a classroom for about three seconds. then immediately, everything collapsed again because right next to him, keonho was spinning in slow circles while holding his soda bottle like he had been possessed by a spirit of chaos.

“why are you doing… that?” seonghyeon asked, watching him with genuine concern.

“momentum,” keonho replied, not even slowing down.

“that’s not how momentum works,” juhoon said immediately, already sounding tired of him.

keonho stopped spinning just long enough to squint at him. “are you sure?” he asked.

there was a pause. juhoon opened his mouth, and closed it. he looked at the bottle, then at keonho, and finally at the staff, who were now actively pretending not to interfere.

“no,” juhoon admitted.

“then let me cook,” keonho said, immediately resuming his spinning like that was final scientific authority. nobody had any response to that.

martin, meanwhile, had started reading the bottle label again, except now he was muttering to himself like he was trying to decode a hidden message embedded in the fizz. “there’s no way they put this much sodium for no reason,” he said seriously.

“there is a reason,” seonghyeon said.

“what reason?” 

“to confuse you.” 

martin nodded like that made perfect sense and went right back to reading. you sighed heavily. 

on the other side of the clearing, james was still watching you and your bottle with the kind of focus that suggested he was actively trying to predict your next mistake, except every time he looked away for half a second, he’d come back to find you doing absolutely nothing productive again.

“you’re not even trying,” james said.

“i am trying,” you replied.

“you’re drinking.”

“strategically.”

“that is not a strategy.”

“it is if it works,” you countered quickly. 

“it’s not working,” he said firmly. 

“yet,” you corrected.

“that’s not comforting.”

“it’s not meant to be, loser.”

somewhere behind him, keonho suddenly stopped spinning and nearly collided with juhoon. “i think i unlocked something,” he said.

“you unlocked dizziness,” juhoon countered.

“same thing.”

“it absolutely is not.”

“you wouldn’t understand.”

“i literally explained physics five minutes ago,” juhoon said flatly.

“yeah.”

“and?”

“i ignored it,” keonho said proudly, moving towards the 2-metre martin cutout to vandalise it.

there was a moment of silence where juhoon just stared into the camera like he was asking for help, like he was some fictional character breaking the fourth wall.

martin, still reading his label, suddenly gasped slightly. “wait,” he said. every one of you turned to look at him, wondering what new information he could’ve found this time.

“what now?” seonghyeon asked cautiously.

“it says ‘best served chilled,’” martin said.

“yeah,” you said slowly, “it’s a drink.”

martin nodded like he had just discovered gravity. “so temperature affects explosion potential.”

juhoon slowly put his head in his hands. “no.” he sighed.

“maybe,” martin said.

“no,” juhoon repeated.

“i think it does.”

“martin, please stop trying to invent science.”

but martin was already gone, fully committed to his theory. and in the middle of all of it, keonho started spinning again for absolutely no reason.

“don’t restart that,” juhoon said immediately.

“too late,” keonho said.

“it wasn’t even paused.” james sighed wearily.

“it was, when he went to draw on fake martin with love twenty times that he has for the real one.”

seonghyeon had, at some point, fully decided that his bottle was no longer just a bottle, but a personal rival in a long-standing feud only he was aware of. he was staring it down with the kind of intensity usually reserved for final bosses in video games or extremely important exams.

“you think you’re better than me?” he said, narrowing his eyes at the bottle like it had personally offended his family lineage.

“what?” juhoon asked immediately, already sounding like he regretted being born into this situation.

“the soda,” seonghyeon clarified without looking away.

“why are you… talking to it?” keonho asked, slowly tilting his head like he was trying to understand a new language.

“it needs to know who’s in charge,” seonghyeon said firmly.

martin, still reading his label like it contained national secrets, gave a small nod as if it was a completely reasonable method.

the editors would later cut to a dramatic close-up of the bottle, then back to seonghyeon, then add cinematic battle music like the soda had just entered its villain arc.

juhoon slowly rubbed his forehead. “we are losing control of reality.”

“we never had it,” keonho replied, gently spinning the bottle again for absolutely no scientific reason.

“you can stop spinning now,” juhoon added.

“no,” keonho said simply.

“why not?” 

“it feels correct.” 

that was apparently the end of that discussion.

“let’s try launching the soda horizontally. for science!” seonghyeon suggested. 

“no,” james yelled from nearby. 

you, meanwhile, were sitting slightly off to the side on one of the crates, bottle in hand, watching everything unfold with the calm expression of someone who had accepted long ago that no amount of logic would ever survive a cortis challenge.

you took another sip.

“are you just going to keep drinking that?” james asked, appearing beside you like he had been trying not to come over but failed anyway.

“it’s mine,” you said simply, glaring up at him.

“it’s a challenge,” he replied, as if that explained everything wrong with the situation.

“it’s also a drink,” you said, aggressively taking another sip for emphasis.

“it’s not supposed to be,” james said, but his voice had already softened a little, like he was losing the argument and he knew it.

“you’re just mad i’m not suffering like the rest of you.” you laughed.

“i am not mad,” james said immediately.

you looked at him; he looked at you. he blinked first.

“you’re definitely mad,” you said.

“i’m focused,” james corrected.

“on me?” 

there was a fraction of a pause too long to be innocent. “on the challenge,” he said quickly, though it came out slightly less convincing than intended.

from across the set, keonho immediately pointed. “ohhh,” he said loudly.

“don’t start,” james warned.

“he’s definitely started,” juhoon muttered.

martin didn’t even look up. “statistically, this is predictable,”

“nobody asked you,” seonghyeon said, still glaring at his bottle like it owed him money.

you just leaned back slightly, watching james carefully try to recover whatever dignity he thought he still had.

“you’re distracting everyone,” he said, gesturing vaguely between you and the growing chaos.

“i’m sitting,” you said, grinning. 

“you’re existing loudly.”

“that’s not a real thing.”

“it is when you do it.”

you smiled a little at that, because unfortunately it landed just enough to be annoying. “you’re smiling,” you pointed out.

“i’m not,” he said immediately.

“you are.”

“i’m not,” he repeated, weaker this time.

“you absolutely are,” you said, leaning slightly closer just to make it worse.

“prove it,” he said, already regretting his words.

you tilted your head towards the cameras without looking away from him. “they already did.”

james froze for half a second, then immediately looked away like he had been physically betrayed by the entire production team.

“i hate this,” he muttered.

“no you don’t,” you said casually.

that made him pause again, just briefly. behind him, seonghyeon suddenly clapped his hands together like he had reached enlightenment.

“right,” seonghyeon said.

everyone turned to look at him. 

“what now?” juhoon asked tiredly.

“we test horizontal soda distance,” seonghyeon announced again, like it was a brand new idea.

“we already said no to that,” james said immediately.

“you said no,” seonghyeon corrected.

“we all meant no,” you added.

“i didn’t agree to anything,” martin said softly, still reading. wait, what the fuck was he still reading anyway? the package didn’t even have that many words. 

“you never do,” keonho said under his breath. “stupid kebab guy.”

you slowly stood up at that point, because unfortunately, once seonghyeon entered his… phase, there was no stopping the descent. “you’re actually going to do this?” you asked, walking closer to the group.

“it’s important data,” seonghyeon said.

“it’s soda,” you replied.

“exactly.”

you stared at him for a moment, then turned slightly to james. “do you hear how this sounds?” you asked.

james exhaled through his nose like he was physically holding himself together. “i hear it,” he said calmly.

“and?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“and i hate it,” he admitted honestly.

“same,” you agreed.

“thank you,” he replied immediately, like that was the first normal interaction he had all day.

“but.”

“yn, no,” he said firmly. 

“but—”

“don’t,” he warned. 

you ignored him anyway. “it could be funny, you know.”

“that’s how it starts.”

and unfortunately, that was all it took—because five seconds later, you were standing in the line too, bottle in hand, while juhoon looked like he was questioning every academic principle he had ever trusted, keonho was already bouncing on his heels, martin was carefully measuring nothing, seonghyeon looked victorious for reasons no one understood, and james was standing slightly too close to you for someone who claimed he was ‘focused on the challenge’.

“if this goes wrong—” james started quietly beside you.

you looked up at him. “it will.”

he exhaled. “yeah,” he said, walking away to focus on his bottle. “it definitely will.”

nearby, martin was somehow becoming redder by the minute, and it had nothing to do with carbonation, physics, or any of the science juhoon had been desperately trying to explain earlier. it was entirely because the entire group had collectively decided that his new name was “tomartin,” and they had decided that calling him that only once was not nearly enough.

“tomartin,” seonghyeon called out, far too pleased with himself.

“stop,” martin said immediately, reading a new label like it might protect him from emotional damage.

“tomartin,” keonho repeated, walking past him just to say it again.

“please,” martin said, voice already going slightly higher, which only made it worse.

“tomartin,” juhoon added, without even looking up.

martin finally snapped. “i’m trying to focus,” he said, loudly enough that the bottle in his hands almost shook.

the editors zoomed in on his face at that exact moment.

his cheeks were already fully red, his expression somewhere between genuine distress and deep regret for ever agreeing to appear in this challenge in the first place.

and then, as if the universe wanted to make it worse, the editora would later add a caption: TOMARTIN LEVEL 78  (,,>﹏<,,)

“i’m serious,” martin said again, weaker this time.

“tomartin,” seonghyeon added instantly.

“stop,” martin whined, barely holding on now.

“tomartin,” keonho said, leaning slightly closer.

martin made a sound that could only be described as the emotional equivalent of a system crash. his face somehow became even redder.

you were standing slightly off to the side with your bottle, watching the entire situation unfold like it was a nature documentary you had not signed up for but were now invested in anyway.

“he’s going to combust,” you said quietly.

“he’s already halfway there,” juhoon replied, not even looking up from his own bottle experiments.

“tomartin,” seonghyeon whispered again, just to be cruel.

martin pointed at him without looking. “if you say it one more time,” he said slowly, “i’m leaving the industry.”

that, somehow, made everyone laugh harder. 

and right in the middle of it, james entered what could only be described as his most dangerous form—competitive. which meant he stopped being subtle, stopped being normal, and started behaving like every second was a personal evaluation of his entire existence.

every few minutes, he would just appear beside you without warning, like a glitch—a very serious, very focused, very good-looking glitch.

he would inspect your bottle first, then inspect you. then sigh like you were both equally suspicious.

“what are you doing?” he asked.

“nothing,” you replied.

“that’s not a strategy,” he said immediately.

“maybe it is,” you said calmly.

“it isn’t.”

“we’ll see.”

he stared at you for a second longer than necessary, like he was trying to figure out if you were genuinely unbothered or just chaos in human form. then he walked away.

only to come back five minutes later with the exact same energy.

“what about now?” he asked.

“still nothing.”

“you’re impossible.”

“thank you.”

“not a compliment.”

“i know.”

and somehow, that made him pause for half a second longer than usual, like he was re-evaluating whether you were actually winning or just making him lose, except this time, things went slightly wrong in a different way. because when keonho shook his bottle too aggressively in the background, it sprayed a fine mist of soda into the air, and a few droplets caught the light before drifting straight into your face—just enough to hit your eye properly and make you flinch immediately.

“oh,” you said softly, stepping back a little.

“what happened?” seonghyeon asked.

“did it get in your eye?” juhoon asked, already sounding like he was preparing for another disaster.

you nodded slightly, blinking fast as your eye started to sting and water a little. before anyone else could properly react, james was already moving—not rushed; not panicked; just immediately there, like he had decided this was no longer part of the game.

“don’t rub it,” he said quietly.

“i’m not,” you replied, blinking again.

“wait,” he instructed, already turning slightly. he walked a few steps away, then came back with a bottle of water from the side table, uncapping it quickly but carefully. “here,” he said, softer now, “look up a bit.”

you did, still blinking.

he didn’t make a big scene of it, just tilted the water gently, letting a small, controlled stream wash near your eye rather than dumping it all at once—like martin might have done—his focus completely fixed like everything else in the room had stopped existing.

“tell me if it stings,” he said slowly. 

“it’s fine,” you said after a second, voice quieter than before.

“okay,” james said, still watching closely anyway.

he paused, then dabbed lightly with his hand, not your face directly, just carefully checking again like he didn’t trust the situation yet.

“better?” he asked.

you blinked a few times.

“yeah,” you said.

behind him, seonghyeon was still yelling ‘tomartin’, martin was still visibly fighting for his life, and keonho had already started shaking his bottle again like nothing had happened. but james didn’t move immediately. he just stayed there for a second longer than necessary, watching to make sure you were actually fine.

“you’re still red,” james said quietly, “martin’s twin.”

“yeah,” you replied, blinking once more, “keonho almost murdered my face with soda.”

“idiot,” he said instantly, without thinking.

“him or me?” you asked lightly.

“him,” he replied without hesitation, which made you smile a little. 

he exhaled, stepped back slightly, and finally remembered the rest of the chaos existed again. “this is why we can’t have normal challenges,” he muttered.

“you love it,” you said.

“i don’t,” he said automatically, but he was already smiling again anyway.

eventually, the challenge shifted into the stealing game, which, in theory, was supposed to be the simplest round of all, but in practice immediately became the point where every remaining shred of structure in the room quietly left.

the objective was straightforward enough—protect your bottle while everyone else tried to steal it, except the moment the round started, everyone collectively forgot the ‘protect’ part and defaulted to pure chaos instead.

juhoon attempted strategy, immediately assigning positions and calling out angles like this was some kind of tactical simulation, only for nobody to listen past the first sentence—why the fuck did he think you were going to listen to him when he was the target? you, personally, thoroughly believed he was stupid. 

martin attempted negotiation, stepping forward like he was about to propose peace terms, but the second he opened his mouth and realised everyone was looking at him, he turned so red that even the staff started laughing in the background.

“we can talk about this,” martin said carefully.

“tomartin is negotiating,” seonghyeon reported instantly.

“no,” martin said, already breaking.

“tomartin is flustered,” keonho added, walking right past him.

martin physically gave up mid-sentence.

keonho attempted violence, which mostly involved sprinting directly at whoever tried to steal his bottle, without any long-term planning or regard for personal safety. he soon switched to giving up, and moved towards the life-sized martin cutout, opting to talk to him with sincerity.

“it’s tiring to stand for so long, isn’t it, jagiya?” he whispered to the cardboard, placing it horizontally in his lap and patting it. “i’ve got you. please just don’t ignore me.” he pouted.

meanwhile, seonghyeon attempted something that could only be described as chaos, shouting phrases and fake threats that contradicted themselves every two seconds while occasionally forgetting what he was supposed to be doing.

and james, for reasons that made perfect sense only to him, immediately targeted you way to efficiently. your round started, bottle secured in your hands, posture steady, already bracing for impact.

“go, go, go,” keonho shouted, immediately lunging forward.

“get it,” martin added, following far too closely behind.

“why are you both yelling?” you asked, twisting your body away as they both missed in completely different directions.

the bottle stayed perfectly upright, barely even tilting.

you shifted it behind your back, then to your side, then back into your hand again, every movement smooth, controlled, almost annoyingly stable.

“how is she doing that?” seonghyeon asked, genuinely offended.

“look at her grip,” james said, squinting.

“she’s evolved,” keonho said, immediately trying again and failing again.

“she’s become one with the bottle,” martin added, still slightly traumatised from earlier.

“why is she so ergonomic?” juhoon shouted.

“she’s built like a forklift,” seonghyeon replied immediately.

“what does that even mean?” juhoon asked.

“no idea,” seonghyeon admitted.

you kept moving, dodging, rotating the bottle in a way that somehow kept it perfectly stable no matter how much chaos was happening around you, while the boys continued their very enthusiastic but extremely unsuccessful attempts to steal it.

and then the room collectively changed energy because james appeared, and everything, immediately, got louder.

“oh no,” keonho said.

“oh yes,” seonghyeon said at the exact same time.

before you could even fully register it, james was already behind you, arms wrapping around your frame from behind in one clean movement, your back gently meeting his chest as he secured you in place. the reaction was instant.

“boooo!” keonho shouted.

“favouritism!” seonghyeon added.

“his bias is showing,” someone else added, though nobody was sure who.

james ignored all of it completely, eyes fixed forward like none of it existed.

“you’ve got good bottle control,” he said calmly.

“thank you?” you replied, slightly confused but not resisting.

“but,” he added.

you immediately tensed. “but what?”

his chin hovered just slightly near your shoulder, close enough that his voice dropped without him trying. “gotcha.”

and then he started shaking you—not the bottle. you.

up. down. up. down. to the sides. as if you were somehow the human equivalent of the soda.

“james!” you screamed immediately.

“you are the bottle now! smart move, james!” seonghyeon encouraged. 

“stop,” juhoon yelled. 

“you have become the soda!” keonho screamed excitedly. “me next?”

martin actually sat down on the ground beside his life-sized cutout like his body had given up entirely.

and somehow, despite everything, james’ stupid strategy worked—the bottle slipped from your grasp. seonghyeon and keonho both lunged again at the exact same time, and this time one of them actually got it.

the round ended in absolute chaos. james finally loosened his grip and let you go, and you immediately turned to face him.

“you cheated,” you accused.

“i innovated,” he replied.

“that’s not innovation.”

“it got results.”

you opened your mouth, then closed it again, because unfortunately, that was technically correct.

james was about to say something else when his expression shifted slightly, the teasing fading just a little. he glanced at you properly now, not competitive anymore, just checking.

“are you dizzy?” he asked after a moment.

you blinked once. “only a little,” you admitted.

his brows knit slightly. “i went too hard,” he said, quieter this time, more to himself than anyone else.

you shook your head quickly. “no, i’m fine,” you said.

he didn’t look fully convinced, so he stayed close for a second longer, just watching you carefully, like he was trying to make sure you weren’t about to fall over in the middle of everything.

the camera, somewhere off to the side, slowly zoomed in without anyone asking it to.

the noise of the room faded slightly behind you two. james lifted a hand briefly, hovering like he was deciding whether to check your face again, then gently tapped your shoulder instead, grounding and careful.

“tell me if it gets worse,” he said. “sorry.”

“i will,” you replied softly. “don’t worry.”

there was a pause again. this time, he nodded once. “okay,” he said. and only then did he step back into the chaos, like he hadn’t just accidentally turned the entire challenge into something that felt suspiciously like a drama scene.

the editors, of course, made sure of it later. somehow, between the screaming, the soda, and martin still recovering on the floor, they would add a slow k-drama soundtrack over the footage of you both anyway with the caption: princess yn and knight james of cortis (˶ˆ𐃷ˆ˵)

☆

the final challenge arrived like it had been announced in a completely different universe, with dramatic music, over-serious camera angles, and the kind of tension that suggested this was no longer a soda experiment but a sanctioned event with consequences.

every one of you gathered in a rough line, bottles in hand, techniques already ‘finalised’ which in reality meant juhoon had tried and failed to explain physics for the last time, keonho had decided physics was optional, seonghyeon was still beefing with his bottle on principle, martin was quietly accepting that ‘tomartin’ was now his permanent identity, and james was standing slightly too close to you.

coco, your favourite manager, stepped forward with a clipboard and a smile that immediately made everyone nervous.

“right,” she said brightly, clapping her hands once, “in this corner, we have juhoon, who is trying very hard to make science happen even though the universe is actively ignoring him.”

juhoon gave a small, exhausted wave.

“next,” she continued, turning smoothly, “we have martin, who is my favourite stress case of the day, and who is doing very well considering he is being emotionally attacked on all sides.”

martin made a tiny sound of despair but looked mildly comforted anyway.

“then,” she said, voice softening instantly, “keonho, who is absolutely not allowed to get hurt, okay, everyone? because he has already tried to climb a table earlier and i’m still recovering from that.”

keonho immediately saluted like he was both honoured and vaguely guilty.

“seonghyeon,” coco continued, tone shifting into fond exasperation, “who is loud, incorrect, and somehow still confident enough to scare me.”

seonghyeon bowed dramatically.

“yn,” she said next, and her entire tone softened again, “who i adore, who behaves like she is calm but is actually the reason i need coffee after every shoot.”

you waved, smiling.

“and james,” coco finished, glancing at him, “who is pretending he’s not competitive but is absolutely the most competitive person standing here.”

james exhaled through his nose. “that was unnecessary.”

“it was accurate,” coco replied without hesitation. he had no comeback because it was accurate.

all six of you stood in position, bottles ready, dignity already gone somewhere during the previous rounds.

the producer asked who wanted to go first. before anyone else could speak, james lifted a hand and pointed directly at you.

“yn,” he said immediately.

“no,” you replied just as fast.

“yn,” he repeated.

“why?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“princess privilege,” he said simply.

there was a pause, followed by immediate chaos.

“princess privilege,” seonghyeon repeated like it was law.

“princess privilege,” keonho echoed, already grinning.

“that’s not a thing,” martin said.

“it is now,” james said.

“it absolutely isn’t,” you replied.

“it is,” he insisted.

martin, already resigned to fate, quietly added, “princess privilege.” you slowly covered your face.

“i hate all of you,” you said.

“go,” james said, pointing at you like it was both an order and an encouragement.

you walked forward slowly, bottle already feeling heavier than it actually was, mostly because everyone behind you had gone quiet in that rare, collective way that only happened when they knew something was about to either go incredibly right or incredibly wrong, and in this case, it might be both.

you stopped in front of the staff, tilting your head slightly as the producer raised the question like it was something serious and scientific.

“any strategy?” the producer asked. you looked down at the bottle for a moment, turning it slightly in your hand, then you glanced up at the group behind you where juhoon still looked like he was debating something in his head, keonho was already bouncing on his heels, seonghyeon was grinning like he was about to witness a disaster on purpose, martin looked faintly resigned to fate, and james was watching you like he already knew what you were going to say.

you looked back at your bottle again. “violence,” you said calmly.

there was a beat of silence that stretched just long enough to feel intentional. then one of the staff members nodded like they had been expecting that exact answer all day.

“fair,” they said.

another added almost immediately, “reasonable.”

and a third, without hesitation, followed with a chime of “honestly expected.”

behind you, james let out a quiet laugh, head tilting back slightly as if he had genuinely been waiting for you to say that since the beginning of the entire challenge.

“that is not a strategy,” he said, still smiling.

“it is now,” you replied without looking at him, like that settled the matter completely.

you tightened your grip on the bottle, rolled your shoulders once, and then started shaking it—properly this time. not cautiously, not experimentally, but with full commitment, like the bottle had  wronged you at some point in the last hour and you were personally settling a score.

up and down first, controlled but sharp, then faster, then angled slightly as you stepped into it, shifting your weight so it turned into something almost rhythmic, almost choreographed, but entirely unhinged in intention. sideways next, then a quick rotation, then a series of small jumps that made the bottle look like it was vibrating out of fear rather than pressure, and at one point even juhoon physically stepped back like he was trying to stay out of the path of the consequences.

“what is she doing?” keonho asked, already retreating a little.

“she’s terrifying,” seonghyeon said immediately, without hesitation.

“she’s been terrifying,” martin added quietly, as if this was just a confirmed fact at this point.

“why is she built like that?” juhoon asked, watching your grip like he was analysing a phenomenon.

“built like what?” keonho asked.

“like she knows what she’s doing,” juhoon replied.

james, still clearly amused, just shook his head slightly as he watched you continue. “don’t stop her,” he said.

“why not?” seonghyeon asked.

there was a brief pause where james looked between you and the group, still smiling in disbelief.

“because i want to see what happens,” he admitted.

that alone seemed to make everything worse. you stopped abruptly. the bottle was vibrating so intensely it looked like it had developed its own nervous system and was actively reconsidering every decision that had led it here.

you glanced sideways once, just briefly, and caught james still watching you, no longer teasing now, just focused, and he gave you the smallest nod, like a silent permission that you absolutely did not need but somehow still felt.

then you twisted the cap. a soft hiss made everyone lean in instinctively.

and then boom!

the soda launched straight upward in a clean, violent column, not spraying, not fizzing out gently, but rising like it had been released from something that could no longer contain it, shooting into the air so fast and so high that for a moment it didn’t even look real.

the reactions were instant and priceless.

“no way—!” juhoon shouted, immediately breaking into laughter as he bent forward.

“it’s still going—!” seonghyeon yelled, pointing upward like he was tracking something historic.

“what did she even do—?!” keonho joined in, taking a step back to protect himself.

martin made a sound somewhere between a scream and surrender before literally sitting down because his body had decided it could not process any more of this. “what the hell.”

and through all of it, you just stood there, watching the arc of soda rise into the sky, then breaking into proper laughter, not surprised or shocked, just satisfied, like you had already known exactly how this would end.

james just stared for a moment longer than everyone else, expression unreadable at first, then slowly shook his head as if accepting defeat in real time.

“well,” he started.

“well,” you repeated, still smiling as you looked at him.

he exhaled through his nose, a faint laugh still lingering. “you won,” he said.

“yeah,” you replied simply.

behind you, the others still attempted their turns, because pride was a dangerous and irrational thing:

juhoon’s barely moved at all.

“not as high as yn’s,” seonghyeon called immediately.

juhoon dropped his head. “i want to leave this planet.”

keonho’s attempt went sideways and splashed him instead, which only made you laugh harder from the side.

“unlucky. it’s okay, aegi,” you mocked, clapping once lightly.

“don’t enjoy that,” keonho said, pointing at you, though he was also laughing.

martin’s was modest at best, barely rising before fizzling out.

“try again,” james said quietly from beside you, though his tone was far less serious than before.

“no,” martin replied instantly.

seonghyeon’s somehow curved in the wrong direction entirely.

“no chance,” you added, still smiling.

and by the time james stepped up, even he had already accepted it. he looked at his bottle, then at you, then back at the bottle again like he was still considering whether there was any possible universe where he could beat what you had just done.

“this is still your fault,” he said.

“this is still my victory,” you corrected.

he let out a small breath, shaking his head slightly, but there was no real frustration left in it anymore, just acceptance of his loss., and the faintest trace of a smile he wasn’t even trying to hide now.

finally, the prize was announced, and it was almost anticlimactic in theory, because all it meant was that the winner could choose the thumbnail for the video. but the moment the producers said it, something in the field shifted like everyone suddenly understood that this was actually the most dangerous power anyone could be given.

the producers looked at you first. the boys immediately looked at the producers, then they looked at you again, but this time with visible concern.

“i have an idea for the thumbnail,” you said slowly.

there was an immediate pause, like the entire set had collectively braced for impact while the staff exchanged glances and the camera operators went very still.

even juhoon stopped thinking for a second, which was rare. “why are you smiling like that?” he asked cautiously.

“i think you’ll like this one,” you said.

“no we won’t,” seonghyeon replied instantly.

“yes, you will,” you said calmly.

“no,” keonho said.

“yes,” you repeated.

“no,” martin added.

“yes,” you insisted.

“this is not how voting works,” juhoon said weakly.

“it is now.” you grinned.

and somehow, that was the end of the discussion.

three minutes later, the entire production team was visibly suffering, the producers looked like they had accepted fate, the camera operators were trying not to laugh too loudly and the editors, somewhere in the control room, had already mentally titled the video. because standing in front of the camera, in a perfectly straight line, were all five boys, arms stretched out horizontally like some kind of extremely unstable conveyor belt, all waiting in confusion and regret.

“why are we doing this?” seonghyeon complained immediately.

“because i won,” you said simply.

“this doesn’t answer my question,” seonghyeon added.

“it answers mine,” you replied.

there was a pause where everyone just accepted that logic was no longer part of the process. you were gently lifted into position onto their outstretched arms—you looked like a log in their hands—and somehow it immediately became clear that each of them had been assigned a very specific role in this questionable structure.

martin was stationed near your head, and he looked like he had already mentally resigned from the group.

“don’t drop me,” you said casually.

“why would you say that?” martin asked instantly, eyes widening in panic.

“interesting reaction,” you replied.

“stop talking, please,” martin said, voice cracking slightly.

“tomartin,” seonghyeon called from somewhere.

“no,” martin said immediately, without even looking.

juhoon was supporting your shoulders, and he looked like he was actively trying to calculate the structural integrity of the situation instead of engaging with it.

“this is actually a very inefficient distribution of weight,” he said seriously.

“nerd,” you replied.

“i’m being serious.”

“nerd.”

“i’m literally helping you stay upright,” he added.

“nerd,” you said again, completely unbothered.

“i hate this group,” he muttered.

directly in the centre, of course, was james—because of course it was. he had insisted on it.

“no, i should stand here,” he had said earlier.

“why?” seonghyeon had asked.

“best balance,” james had replied immediately.

“you made that up,” you said.

“nope. it’s a whole thing,” he said.

“you absolutely made that up,” you repeated.

“no,” he insisted again.

“james,” you said.

“no,” he replied instantly.

now his arm was wrapped securely around your waist, not loosely, not awkwardly, but firmly in a way that made it very clear he had zero intention of letting you tilt even slightly out of place, and every time the group shifted or someone laughed too hard or keonho so much as breathed incorrectly, his grip adjusted automatically like it was instinct.

you felt it before you even noticed it properly—a steadying pressure that was quiet, careful, and always just there.

“comfortable?” james asked quietly, his voice lower now that he wasn’t performing for everyone else.

you glanced up at him. “yeah.”

“good,” he replied immediately.

“you’re acting like i’m fragile,” you said dryly.

“you’re horizontal. anybody in your position would be considered fragile,” he reasoned.

you paused, then nodded slightly. “fair.”

he huffed a small laugh at that, still not looking away from making sure you were actually stable.

meanwhile, keonho had been assigned to hold you near your knees, a position he had immediately taken as a personal invitation to cause problems.

“this feels weird,” keonho said.

“then stop poking my leg,” you replied.

“i wasn’t poking.”

“you literally were.”

“i was testing stability.”

“keonho,” you warned.

“for science,” he added quickly.

“juhoon, hit him,” you ordered simply.

“gladly,” juhoon replied instantly, reaching to smacking the back of keonho’s head.

“wait—”

and seonghyeon, of course, had your feet, which he did not deserve under any circumstance.

“why do i get the feet?” seonghyeon complained.

“because you’re annoying,” you said.

“that’s discrimination,” he argued.

“that’s justice,” you corrected.

and even now, there was james—still steady, still holding you securely at the waist, still annoyingly calm in the middle of everything.

“you good?” he asked again after a moment, quieter this time, like he was checking in just in case.

“yeah,” you said, looking at him briefly.

his expression softened slightly at that answer, like he was satisfied but still not letting go of the responsibility.

“don’t move too much,” he added.

“i’m not moving,” you said.

“good,” he replied. then, after a pause, almost absentmindedly, he added, “i’ve got you.”

you blinked once at that, then looked away like it was nothing, while you tried to ignore the heat rushing to your face. you did not want to get called martin’s twin again.

“i know,” you said. but the way he tightened his grip slightly right after, just to adjust your balance again, made it feel like he was taking the role very seriously anyway.

behind you, chaos continued as expected. you, meanwhile, just relaxed completely into the ridiculous formation, looking up slightly at the camera with a satisfied smile like this was exactly how winning was supposed to feel.

the photographer had officially reached a point of emotional collapse, standing slightly off to the side with the camera raised while trying very hard to maintain professional composure, even though nothing in front of him could remotely be described as normal anymore.

“okay, everyone, look here,” he said, voice strained with hope.

nobody looked, because at that exact moment, keonho laughed. it wasn’t even anything dramatic, just a small breakdown laugh that somehow carried the full weight of the entire day, and it immediately triggered a chain reaction.

your knees wobbled slightly in the structure.

“hey,” juhoon said immediately, shifting his grip.

which made seonghyeon panic for no reason at all. “don’t drop her,” he said, voice suddenly high.

“i’m not dropping anyone,” juhoon snapped back.

martin made a small noise like his soul briefly left his body.

“tomartin’s malfunctioning,” keonho said instantly.

“stop,” martin said.

“tomartin overheating,” seonghyeon added.

“stop,” martin repeated, weaker.

“tomartin.exe has stopped responding,” keonho finished, absolutely delighted with himself.

“i hate you all,” martin said flatly, which only made everyone laugh harder.

the photographer clicked the camera out of instinct. then again, and again. because every time he tried to get a ‘normal’ shot, something worse happened immediately after.

in one frame, seonghyeon was mid-argument with juhoon about ‘structural ethics of human balancing’ which nobody had asked for.

in another, juhoon was genuinely explaining weight distribution to a staff member who looked like they had only asked where the restroom was.

in another, keonho was laughing so hard he had forgotten he was part of the supporting system keeping you off the ground entirely.

and in nearly every single shot; james was not looking at the camera. he was looking at you—not dramatically or performatively, just consistently, like the camera was an afterthought and you were the actual subject of the frame.

you noticed it once, then again, then again, until it became impossible not to.

“james,” you said quietly, not turning your head fully, “you’re supposed to be looking forward.”

“i am,” he replied immediately, which was a complete lie.

“that’s not forward,” you said.

“it is. my forward,” he said.

you huffed a small laugh, and his expression shifted slightly, like that was the reaction he had actually been waiting for.

the photographer noticed too. (of course he did.)

he leaned slightly to one side, trying to find an angle where both of you were visible without the rest of the chaos ruining everything, and muttered under his breath, “they’re going to use this frame later, i just know it.”

“try to look at the camera,” the photographer said louder. nobody did. because keonho started laughing again, which made seonghyeon lose balance slightly, which made juhoon tighten his grip, which made martin whisper, “i think this is it for me.”

“don’t say that,” you said immediately, trying not to laugh yourself.

“it’s already happening,” martin replied.

“tomartin, stay with us,” seonghyeon said.

“do not call me that,” martin said, exhausted.

“tomartin,” keonho added softly.

“i will leave this group,” martin said firmly.

in one of the photos, you were laughing properly, head tilted slightly back, while james was still looking at you instead of the lens like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“i think we got it,” the photographer said finally, lowering the camera like he was surrendering.

“finally,” juhoon muttered.

“did we?” keonho asked.

“no,” martin said immediately.

“yes,” james said, still not looking away from you. you glanced at him again.

“you’re still not looking at the camera,” you said.

“i am.”

“you are literally not.”

he paused for half a second, then very slowly said, “the camera is optional.”

you laughed under your breath again, and the photographer physically sighed like he had just witnessed a problem he couldn’t fix.

later, when the final thumbnail was chosen, it would somehow be worse and better than anyone expected—five boys arranged like chaotic medieval knights holding a very amused princess in a perfectly absurd horizontal formation, martin visibly red and suffering, juhoon mid-analysis, keonho laughing like he had no survival instincts left, seonghyeon mid-complaint, and james positioned exactly where he insisted he should be, still looking at you instead of the camera.

the editors’ final touches, of course, included zoom-ins, sparkles, and entirely unnecessary heart effects whenever james breathed near you.

when the video finally went up, the comments agreed on one thing almost instantly.

first place: your soda explosion.

second place: james’ inability to act normal around you.

and third place, eternally, undeniably: 🍅 tomartin 🍅 who, despite everything, never recovered from that nickname for the rest of the entire video.

© hyuneskkami ❦

the thing about being a part of cortis was that you learnt very early that challenges rarely stayed about the actual challenge for long, because at some point—usually within the first thirty seconds—everyone collectively forgot what they were supposed to be doing and started treating the entire thing like a scientific breakthrough, a psychological experiment, or a competition to see who could embarrass themselves the fastest in front of a camera.

today’s challenge was soda. just soda.

the objective was simple enough that even the staff had looked relieved while explaining it, because for once there weren’t a million separate rules and a complicated scoring system involved, unlike your seniors’ (seventeen sunbaenims) games. 

all your group had to do was make a bottle of soda explode as high as possible. that was it, which, naturally meant the boys were about to make it far more complicated than necessary.

the explanation had barely ended before everyone scattered around the field, clutching their bottles and immediately developing wildly different approaches.

juhoon entered what could only be described as ‘professor mode’, turning his bottle over in his hands while muttering something about pressure, carbonation and liquid displacement under his breath. every few seconds, he’d tap the side of it thoughtfully and nod to himself, as though he was making groundbreaking discoveries nobody else could possibly understand.

martin somehow managed to be even worse. rather than actually experimenting with the bottle, he’d started reading the label. not skimming over it, not checking one or two details, but genuinely standing there and reading every single line as though he expected a written examination afterwards.

“dude, why are you reading the ingredients?” you questioned. 

he didn’t even glance up. “because there could be useful information.”

“on the nutritional label?”

“you don’t know that.”

“i think i do.”

“well, i’m covering all possibilities.”

the camera immediately zoomed in on him.

the editors, clearly recognised an opportunity when they saw one, because they would later add dramatic music and a caption that read: future scientist martin? ∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) ?

across the field, seonghyeon had already decided he was an expert despite doing absolutely nothing. he shook his bottle once, nodded to himself and announced, with all the confidence of a man unveiling a revolutionary invention, “i already know how to win.”

everyone turned to stare at him.

“you haven’t done anything,” juhoon pointed out. 

“exactly.”

“that doesn’t make any sense.”

“it will. later.”

it didn’t. nobody ever understood what he meant, least of all seonghyeon himself. 

keonho wasn’t much better either, to be completely honest. he was standing with his bottle upside down, staring at it with a level of concentration that suggested he was trying to communicate with it telepathically. every now and then he’d flip it around, narrow his eyes and continue staring.

“what are you doing?” martin questioned seriously. 

“thinking.”

“about what?”

“not sure yet.”

“okay. i guess?”

“i’ll let you know when i figure it out.”

and then there was james. you could always tell when he became competitive because he developed this frighteningly serious expression, like somebody had personally challenged his honour and he now had no choice but to dedicate the next several hours of his life to proving them wrong.

he was holding the bottle in both hands, examining it from every angle imaginable—turning it around, looking at the cap, looking at the label, looking at the liquid inside. he genuinely looked like somebody who’d just been handed classified government documents.

you watched him for a few moments while he continued to watch the bottle which, unfortunately, refused to reveal any state secrets.

then you looked down at your own, and opened it.

the soft hiss of the cap wasn’t particularly loud, but somehow it managed to bring the entire room to a halt.

every head snapped towards you. conversations paused; movements stopped. even some of the staff looked interested.

the editors would later add serious music over the footage because the boys genuinely looked convinced they were about to witness some kind of revolutionary strategy. you could practically see the thoughts passing through their heads.

‘yn’s doing something.’

‘she’s figured it out, hasn’t she?’

‘she has a plan.’

‘damn it, we can’t compete with someone who finished high school, unlike some of us.’

you twisted the cap open and lifted the bottle to your lips, and for a moment, everything in the field just… paused, like the entire challenge had collectively decided to stop breathing and wait for something important to happen.

juhoon was mid-gesture, still talking about carbonation like he was presenting a thesis, martin had frozen with the label in his hands, keonho had tilted his bottle slightly mid-thought, and even james, who had been staring at his own drink like it held the secrets of the universe, looked up immediately.

you took a sip, then another, then another, before lowering the bottle with a small, satisfied breath.

“ah,” you said. “it’s still cold. nice.”

there was a beat of silence, heavy and immediate, like everybody was processing something deeply offensive.

“that’s it?” seonghyeon asked, throwing his hands up like he physically could not accept what he had just witnessed.

“you just drank it?” juhoon said, sounding genuinely betrayed, as though you had broken some unspoken rule of physics itself.

“we all stopped working for that?” keonho added, already rubbing his face like the situation was giving him a headache.

martin didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you for a long moment before slowly looking away, as if he needed recovery time.

james lowered his bottle slightly, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “you had everybody’s attention,” he said, still looking at you like there had to be more to it than this.

“i was thirsty,” you replied simply, like that explained absolutely everything.

“that’s not the point,” he said immediately, shaking his head like the answer offended him.

“it feels like the point,” you added, taking another small sip like nothing in the world was urgent.

“you looked so confident,” he said, gesturing slightly with his bottle, still trying to reverse-engineer what went wrong.

“because i was thirsty,” you repeated.

“you made it look like you had a strategy,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly now.

“i did have a strategy,” you said, pausing just enough for him to react.

“what strategy?” he asked immediately, already regretting asking.

you lifted the bottle again, almost proudly this time. “drink,” you said.

the collective reaction was instant, like something inside everyone had just given up at the same time.

“that’s it,” seonghyeon said, leaning back dramatically.

“i can’t believe this,” keonho said, turning away like he needed space from the disappointment.

“we all stopped for her hydration,” juhoon said flatly, staring at the sky like it had answers.

martin covered his face with both hands. “bruh.”

james just stood there for a moment, still looking at you, still processing, still refusing to accept that this was the full story. “you know what,” he said eventually.

“what?” you asked.

“i actually think that’s worse,” he added.

you smiled immediately. “thank you,” you said.

“that wasn’t a compliment,” he said at once, though his voice had already softened slightly.

“i’m choosing to believe it was,” you replied.

james shook his head, but there was already a faint smile threatening at the corner of his mouth, like he was annoyed at himself for even finding this funny.

“you realise we’re supposed to be winning, right?” he reminded you.

“you realise i am winning, right? this isn’t a team game.” you rolled your eyes. 

“it’s not a competition yet.”

“it is, in my heart,” you sighed.

“that’s not a real category to classify this under,” he said.

“it is, if you lose there,” you replied smoothly. 

somewhere behind him, seonghyeon laughed. “oh, he’s gone,” he said.

“what?” james asked quickly.

“you’ve been smiling the whole time,” keonho added, pointing like it was evidence in court.

“i have not,” james defended immediately.

“you have,” you bit back at the same time.

“no,” he said again, weaker now.

“you literally laughed,” juhoon added.

“that doesn’t count,” james rubbed his forehead.

“it absolutely counts,” martin said quietly from behind his hands.

before james could recover, juhoon stepped forward and casually slung an arm over his shoulder.

“james,” he said.

“what,” james replied, already suspicious.

“if you’re done flirting with the competition,” juhoon said flatly, “you should probably go back to your bottle.”

there was a full second of silence, and then everything collapsed at once. james froze completely while you nearly choked. keonho lost it, and somewhere beside him, seonghyeon practically fell over laughing, and martin just slowly shook his head like this was the worst joke ever.

and the challenge, for all practical purposes, stopped mattering right there.

the next thirty minutes somehow became six completely different challenges happening at the same time, in the same space, with the same people, except nobody was doing what they were actually supposed to be doing and everyone had just accepted that the rules were more of a suggestion than anything else.

juhoon, somehow, had fully committed himself to becoming the self-appointed scientist of the group, which meant that every few minutes he would gather everyone around like a lecture was about to begin, and proceed to explain actual physics with the seriousness of someone being graded on it.

“pressure increases when gas molecules are trapped in a confined space,” he said.

everyone nodded like this was extremely important information.

“carbon dioxide builds up when shaken,” he added.

more nodding.

“and bottle structure affects explosion height,” he continued.

deep, respectful silence. it genuinely felt like a classroom for about three seconds. then immediately, everything collapsed again because right next to him, keonho was spinning in slow circles while holding his soda bottle like he had been possessed by a spirit of chaos.

“why are you doing… that?” seonghyeon asked, watching him with genuine concern.

“momentum,” keonho replied, not even slowing down.

“that’s not how momentum works,” juhoon said immediately, already sounding tired of him.

keonho stopped spinning just long enough to squint at him. “are you sure?” he asked.

there was a pause. juhoon opened his mouth, and closed it. he looked at the bottle, then at keonho, and finally at the staff, who were now actively pretending not to interfere.

“no,” juhoon admitted.

“then let me cook,” keonho said, immediately resuming his spinning like that was final scientific authority. nobody had any response to that.

martin, meanwhile, had started reading the bottle label again, except now he was muttering to himself like he was trying to decode a hidden message embedded in the fizz. “there’s no way they put this much sodium for no reason,” he said seriously.

“there is a reason,” seonghyeon said.

“what reason?” 

“to confuse you.” 

martin nodded like that made perfect sense and went right back to reading. you sighed heavily. 

on the other side of the clearing, james was still watching you and your bottle with the kind of focus that suggested he was actively trying to predict your next mistake, except every time he looked away for half a second, he’d come back to find you doing absolutely nothing productive again.

“you’re not even trying,” james said.

“i am trying,” you replied.

“you’re drinking.”

“strategically.”

“that is not a strategy.”

“it is if it works,” you countered quickly. 

“it’s not working,” he said firmly. 

“yet,” you corrected.

“that’s not comforting.”

“it’s not meant to be, loser.”

somewhere behind him, keonho suddenly stopped spinning and nearly collided with juhoon. “i think i unlocked something,” he said.

“you unlocked dizziness,” juhoon countered.

“same thing.”

“it absolutely is not.”

“you wouldn’t understand.”

“i literally explained physics five minutes ago,” juhoon said flatly.

“yeah.”

“and?”

“i ignored it,” keonho said proudly, moving towards the 2-metre martin cutout to vandalise it.

there was a moment of silence where juhoon just stared into the camera like he was asking for help, like he was some fictional character breaking the fourth wall.

martin, still reading his label, suddenly gasped slightly. “wait,” he said. every one of you turned to look at him, wondering what new information he could’ve found this time.

“what now?” seonghyeon asked cautiously.

“it says ‘best served chilled,’” martin said.

“yeah,” you said slowly, “it’s a drink.”

martin nodded like he had just discovered gravity. “so temperature affects explosion potential.”

juhoon slowly put his head in his hands. “no.” he sighed.

“maybe,” martin said.

“no,” juhoon repeated.

“i think it does.”

“martin, please stop trying to invent science.”

but martin was already gone, fully committed to his theory. and in the middle of all of it, keonho started spinning again for absolutely no reason.

“don’t restart that,” juhoon said immediately.

“too late,” keonho said.

“it wasn’t even paused.” james sighed wearily.

“it was, when he went to draw on fake martin with love twenty times that he has for the real one.”

seonghyeon had, at some point, fully decided that his bottle was no longer just a bottle, but a personal rival in a long-standing feud only he was aware of. he was staring it down with the kind of intensity usually reserved for final bosses in video games or extremely important exams.

“you think you’re better than me?” he said, narrowing his eyes at the bottle like it had personally offended his family lineage.

“what?” juhoon asked immediately, already sounding like he regretted being born into this situation.

“the soda,” seonghyeon clarified without looking away.

“why are you… talking to it?” keonho asked, slowly tilting his head like he was trying to understand a new language.

“it needs to know who’s in charge,” seonghyeon said firmly.

martin, still reading his label like it contained national secrets, gave a small nod as if it was a completely reasonable method.

the editors would later cut to a dramatic close-up of the bottle, then back to seonghyeon, then add cinematic battle music like the soda had just entered its villain arc.

juhoon slowly rubbed his forehead. “we are losing control of reality.”

“we never had it,” keonho replied, gently spinning the bottle again for absolutely no scientific reason.

“you can stop spinning now,” juhoon added.

“no,” keonho said simply.

“why not?” 

“it feels correct.” 

that was apparently the end of that discussion.

“let’s try launching the soda horizontally. for science!” seonghyeon suggested. 

“no,” james yelled from nearby. 

you, meanwhile, were sitting slightly off to the side on one of the crates, bottle in hand, watching everything unfold with the calm expression of someone who had accepted long ago that no amount of logic would ever survive a cortis challenge.

you took another sip.

“are you just going to keep drinking that?” james asked, appearing beside you like he had been trying not to come over but failed anyway.

“it’s mine,” you said simply, glaring up at him.

“it’s a challenge,” he replied, as if that explained everything wrong with the situation.

“it’s also a drink,” you said, aggressively taking another sip for emphasis.

“it’s not supposed to be,” james said, but his voice had already softened a little, like he was losing the argument and he knew it.

“you’re just mad i’m not suffering like the rest of you.” you laughed.

“i am not mad,” james said immediately.

you looked at him; he looked at you. he blinked first.

“you’re definitely mad,” you said.

“i’m focused,” james corrected.

“on me?” 

there was a fraction of a pause too long to be innocent. “on the challenge,” he said quickly, though it came out slightly less convincing than intended.

from across the set, keonho immediately pointed. “ohhh,” he said loudly.

“don’t start,” james warned.

“he’s definitely started,” juhoon muttered.

martin didn’t even look up. “statistically, this is predictable,”

“nobody asked you,” seonghyeon said, still glaring at his bottle like it owed him money.

you just leaned back slightly, watching james carefully try to recover whatever dignity he thought he still had.

“you’re distracting everyone,” he said, gesturing vaguely between you and the growing chaos.

“i’m sitting,” you said, grinning. 

“you’re existing loudly.”

“that’s not a real thing.”

“it is when you do it.”

you smiled a little at that, because unfortunately it landed just enough to be annoying. “you’re smiling,” you pointed out.

“i’m not,” he said immediately.

“you are.”

“i’m not,” he repeated, weaker this time.

“you absolutely are,” you said, leaning slightly closer just to make it worse.

“prove it,” he said, already regretting his words.

you tilted your head towards the cameras without looking away from him. “they already did.”

james froze for half a second, then immediately looked away like he had been physically betrayed by the entire production team.

“i hate this,” he muttered.

“no you don’t,” you said casually.

that made him pause again, just briefly. behind him, seonghyeon suddenly clapped his hands together like he had reached enlightenment.

“right,” seonghyeon said.

everyone turned to look at him. 

“what now?” juhoon asked tiredly.

“we test horizontal soda distance,” seonghyeon announced again, like it was a brand new idea.

“we already said no to that,” james said immediately.

“you said no,” seonghyeon corrected.

“we all meant no,” you added.

“i didn’t agree to anything,” martin said softly, still reading. wait, what the fuck was he still reading anyway? the package didn’t even have that many words. 

“you never do,” keonho said under his breath. “stupid kebab guy.”

you slowly stood up at that point, because unfortunately, once seonghyeon entered his… phase, there was no stopping the descent. “you’re actually going to do this?” you asked, walking closer to the group.

“it’s important data,” seonghyeon said.

“it’s soda,” you replied.

“exactly.”

you stared at him for a moment, then turned slightly to james. “do you hear how this sounds?” you asked.

james exhaled through his nose like he was physically holding himself together. “i hear it,” he said calmly.

“and?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“and i hate it,” he admitted honestly.

“same,” you agreed.

“thank you,” he replied immediately, like that was the first normal interaction he had all day.

“but.”

“yn, no,” he said firmly. 

“but—”

“don’t,” he warned. 

you ignored him anyway. “it could be funny, you know.”

“that’s how it starts.”

and unfortunately, that was all it took—because five seconds later, you were standing in the line too, bottle in hand, while juhoon looked like he was questioning every academic principle he had ever trusted, keonho was already bouncing on his heels, martin was carefully measuring nothing, seonghyeon looked victorious for reasons no one understood, and james was standing slightly too close to you for someone who claimed he was ‘focused on the challenge’.

“if this goes wrong—” james started quietly beside you.

you looked up at him. “it will.”

he exhaled. “yeah,” he said, walking away to focus on his bottle. “it definitely will.”

nearby, martin was somehow becoming redder by the minute, and it had nothing to do with carbonation, physics, or any of the science juhoon had been desperately trying to explain earlier. it was entirely because the entire group had collectively decided that his new name was “tomartin,” and they had decided that calling him that only once was not nearly enough.

“tomartin,” seonghyeon called out, far too pleased with himself.

“stop,” martin said immediately, reading a new label like it might protect him from emotional damage.

“tomartin,” keonho repeated, walking past him just to say it again.

“please,” martin said, voice already going slightly higher, which only made it worse.

“tomartin,” juhoon added, without even looking up.

martin finally snapped. “i’m trying to focus,” he said, loudly enough that the bottle in his hands almost shook.

the editors zoomed in on his face at that exact moment.

his cheeks were already fully red, his expression somewhere between genuine distress and deep regret for ever agreeing to appear in this challenge in the first place.

and then, as if the universe wanted to make it worse, the editora would later add a caption: TOMARTIN LEVEL 78  (,,>﹏<,,)

“i’m serious,” martin said again, weaker this time.

“tomartin,” seonghyeon added instantly.

“stop,” martin whined, barely holding on now.

“tomartin,” keonho said, leaning slightly closer.

martin made a sound that could only be described as the emotional equivalent of a system crash. his face somehow became even redder.

you were standing slightly off to the side with your bottle, watching the entire situation unfold like it was a nature documentary you had not signed up for but were now invested in anyway.

“he’s going to combust,” you said quietly.

“he’s already halfway there,” juhoon replied, not even looking up from his own bottle experiments.

“tomartin,” seonghyeon whispered again, just to be cruel.

martin pointed at him without looking. “if you say it one more time,” he said slowly, “i’m leaving the industry.”

that, somehow, made everyone laugh harder. 

and right in the middle of it, james entered what could only be described as his most dangerous form—competitive. which meant he stopped being subtle, stopped being normal, and started behaving like every second was a personal evaluation of his entire existence.

every few minutes, he would just appear beside you without warning, like a glitch—a very serious, very focused, very good-looking glitch.

he would inspect your bottle first, then inspect you. then sigh like you were both equally suspicious.

“what are you doing?” he asked.

“nothing,” you replied.

“that’s not a strategy,” he said immediately.

“maybe it is,” you said calmly.

“it isn’t.”

“we’ll see.”

he stared at you for a second longer than necessary, like he was trying to figure out if you were genuinely unbothered or just chaos in human form. then he walked away.

only to come back five minutes later with the exact same energy.

“what about now?” he asked.

“still nothing.”

“you’re impossible.”

“thank you.”

“not a compliment.”

“i know.”

and somehow, that made him pause for half a second longer than usual, like he was re-evaluating whether you were actually winning or just making him lose, except this time, things went slightly wrong in a different way. because when keonho shook his bottle too aggressively in the background, it sprayed a fine mist of soda into the air, and a few droplets caught the light before drifting straight into your face—just enough to hit your eye properly and make you flinch immediately.

“oh,” you said softly, stepping back a little.

“what happened?” seonghyeon asked.

“did it get in your eye?” juhoon asked, already sounding like he was preparing for another disaster.

you nodded slightly, blinking fast as your eye started to sting and water a little. before anyone else could properly react, james was already moving—not rushed; not panicked; just immediately there, like he had decided this was no longer part of the game.

“don’t rub it,” he said quietly.

“i’m not,” you replied, blinking again.

“wait,” he instructed, already turning slightly. he walked a few steps away, then came back with a bottle of water from the side table, uncapping it quickly but carefully. “here,” he said, softer now, “look up a bit.”

you did, still blinking.

he didn’t make a big scene of it, just tilted the water gently, letting a small, controlled stream wash near your eye rather than dumping it all at once—like martin might have done—his focus completely fixed like everything else in the room had stopped existing.

“tell me if it stings,” he said slowly. 

“it’s fine,” you said after a second, voice quieter than before.

“okay,” james said, still watching closely anyway.

he paused, then dabbed lightly with his hand, not your face directly, just carefully checking again like he didn’t trust the situation yet.

“better?” he asked.

you blinked a few times.

“yeah,” you said.

behind him, seonghyeon was still yelling ‘tomartin’, martin was still visibly fighting for his life, and keonho had already started shaking his bottle again like nothing had happened. but james didn’t move immediately. he just stayed there for a second longer than necessary, watching to make sure you were actually fine.

“you’re still red,” james said quietly, “martin’s twin.”

“yeah,” you replied, blinking once more, “keonho almost murdered my face with soda.”

“idiot,” he said instantly, without thinking.

“him or me?” you asked lightly.

“him,” he replied without hesitation, which made you smile a little. 

he exhaled, stepped back slightly, and finally remembered the rest of the chaos existed again. “this is why we can’t have normal challenges,” he muttered.

“you love it,” you said.

“i don’t,” he said automatically, but he was already smiling again anyway.

eventually, the challenge shifted into the stealing game, which, in theory, was supposed to be the simplest round of all, but in practice immediately became the point where every remaining shred of structure in the room quietly left.

the objective was straightforward enough—protect your bottle while everyone else tried to steal it, except the moment the round started, everyone collectively forgot the ‘protect’ part and defaulted to pure chaos instead.

juhoon attempted strategy, immediately assigning positions and calling out angles like this was some kind of tactical simulation, only for nobody to listen past the first sentence—why the fuck did he think you were going to listen to him when he was the target? you, personally, thoroughly believed he was stupid. 

martin attempted negotiation, stepping forward like he was about to propose peace terms, but the second he opened his mouth and realised everyone was looking at him, he turned so red that even the staff started laughing in the background.

“we can talk about this,” martin said carefully.

“tomartin is negotiating,” seonghyeon reported instantly.

“no,” martin said, already breaking.

“tomartin is flustered,” keonho added, walking right past him.

martin physically gave up mid-sentence.

keonho attempted violence, which mostly involved sprinting directly at whoever tried to steal his bottle, without any long-term planning or regard for personal safety. he soon switched to giving up, and moved towards the life-sized martin cutout, opting to talk to him with sincerity.

“it’s tiring to stand for so long, isn’t it, jagiya?” he whispered to the cardboard, placing it horizontally in his lap and patting it. “i’ve got you. please just don’t ignore me.” he pouted.

meanwhile, seonghyeon attempted something that could only be described as chaos, shouting phrases and fake threats that contradicted themselves every two seconds while occasionally forgetting what he was supposed to be doing.

and james, for reasons that made perfect sense only to him, immediately targeted you way to efficiently. your round started, bottle secured in your hands, posture steady, already bracing for impact.

“go, go, go,” keonho shouted, immediately lunging forward.

“get it,” martin added, following far too closely behind.

“why are you both yelling?” you asked, twisting your body away as they both missed in completely different directions.

the bottle stayed perfectly upright, barely even tilting.

you shifted it behind your back, then to your side, then back into your hand again, every movement smooth, controlled, almost annoyingly stable.

“how is she doing that?” seonghyeon asked, genuinely offended.

“look at her grip,” james said, squinting.

“she’s evolved,” keonho said, immediately trying again and failing again.

“she’s become one with the bottle,” martin added, still slightly traumatised from earlier.

“why is she so ergonomic?” juhoon shouted.

“she’s built like a forklift,” seonghyeon replied immediately.

“what does that even mean?” juhoon asked.

“no idea,” seonghyeon admitted.

you kept moving, dodging, rotating the bottle in a way that somehow kept it perfectly stable no matter how much chaos was happening around you, while the boys continued their very enthusiastic but extremely unsuccessful attempts to steal it.

and then the room collectively changed energy because james appeared, and everything, immediately, got louder.

“oh no,” keonho said.

“oh yes,” seonghyeon said at the exact same time.

before you could even fully register it, james was already behind you, arms wrapping around your frame from behind in one clean movement, your back gently meeting his chest as he secured you in place. the reaction was instant.

“boooo!” keonho shouted.

“favouritism!” seonghyeon added.

“his bias is showing,” someone else added, though nobody was sure who.

james ignored all of it completely, eyes fixed forward like none of it existed.

“you’ve got good bottle control,” he said calmly.

“thank you?” you replied, slightly confused but not resisting.

“but,” he added.

you immediately tensed. “but what?”

his chin hovered just slightly near your shoulder, close enough that his voice dropped without him trying. “gotcha.”

and then he started shaking you—not the bottle. you.

up. down. up. down. to the sides. as if you were somehow the human equivalent of the soda.

“james!” you screamed immediately.

“you are the bottle now! smart move, james!” seonghyeon encouraged. 

“stop,” juhoon yelled. 

“you have become the soda!” keonho screamed excitedly. “me next?”

martin actually sat down on the ground beside his life-sized cutout like his body had given up entirely.

and somehow, despite everything, james’ stupid strategy worked—the bottle slipped from your grasp. seonghyeon and keonho both lunged again at the exact same time, and this time one of them actually got it.

the round ended in absolute chaos. james finally loosened his grip and let you go, and you immediately turned to face him.

“you cheated,” you accused.

“i innovated,” he replied.

“that’s not innovation.”

“it got results.”

you opened your mouth, then closed it again, because unfortunately, that was technically correct.

james was about to say something else when his expression shifted slightly, the teasing fading just a little. he glanced at you properly now, not competitive anymore, just checking.

“are you dizzy?” he asked after a moment.

you blinked once. “only a little,” you admitted.

his brows knit slightly. “i went too hard,” he said, quieter this time, more to himself than anyone else.

you shook your head quickly. “no, i’m fine,” you said.

he didn’t look fully convinced, so he stayed close for a second longer, just watching you carefully, like he was trying to make sure you weren’t about to fall over in the middle of everything.

the camera, somewhere off to the side, slowly zoomed in without anyone asking it to.

the noise of the room faded slightly behind you two. james lifted a hand briefly, hovering like he was deciding whether to check your face again, then gently tapped your shoulder instead, grounding and careful.

“tell me if it gets worse,” he said. “sorry.”

“i will,” you replied softly. “don’t worry.”

there was a pause again. this time, he nodded once. “okay,” he said. and only then did he step back into the chaos, like he hadn’t just accidentally turned the entire challenge into something that felt suspiciously like a drama scene.

the editors, of course, made sure of it later. somehow, between the screaming, the soda, and martin still recovering on the floor, they would add a slow k-drama soundtrack over the footage of you both anyway with the caption: princess yn and knight james of cortis (˶ˆ𐃷ˆ˵)

☆

the final challenge arrived like it had been announced in a completely different universe, with dramatic music, over-serious camera angles, and the kind of tension that suggested this was no longer a soda experiment but a sanctioned event with consequences.

every one of you gathered in a rough line, bottles in hand, techniques already ‘finalised’ which in reality meant juhoon had tried and failed to explain physics for the last time, keonho had decided physics was optional, seonghyeon was still beefing with his bottle on principle, martin was quietly accepting that ‘tomartin’ was now his permanent identity, and james was standing slightly too close to you.

coco, your favourite manager, stepped forward with a clipboard and a smile that immediately made everyone nervous.

“right,” she said brightly, clapping her hands once, “in this corner, we have juhoon, who is trying very hard to make science happen even though the universe is actively ignoring him.”

juhoon gave a small, exhausted wave.

“next,” she continued, turning smoothly, “we have martin, who is my favourite stress case of the day, and who is doing very well considering he is being emotionally attacked on all sides.”

martin made a tiny sound of despair but looked mildly comforted anyway.

“then,” she said, voice softening instantly, “keonho, who is absolutely not allowed to get hurt, okay, everyone? because he has already tried to climb a table earlier and i’m still recovering from that.”

keonho immediately saluted like he was both honoured and vaguely guilty.

“seonghyeon,” coco continued, tone shifting into fond exasperation, “who is loud, incorrect, and somehow still confident enough to scare me.”

seonghyeon bowed dramatically.

“yn,” she said next, and her entire tone softened again, “who i adore, who behaves like she is calm but is actually the reason i need coffee after every shoot.”

you waved, smiling.

“and james,” coco finished, glancing at him, “who is pretending he’s not competitive but is absolutely the most competitive person standing here.”

james exhaled through his nose. “that was unnecessary.”

“it was accurate,” coco replied without hesitation. he had no comeback because it was accurate.

all six of you stood in position, bottles ready, dignity already gone somewhere during the previous rounds.

the producer asked who wanted to go first. before anyone else could speak, james lifted a hand and pointed directly at you.

“yn,” he said immediately.

“no,” you replied just as fast.

“yn,” he repeated.

“why?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“princess privilege,” he said simply.

there was a pause, followed by immediate chaos.

“princess privilege,” seonghyeon repeated like it was law.

“princess privilege,” keonho echoed, already grinning.

“that’s not a thing,” martin said.

“it is now,” james said.

“it absolutely isn’t,” you replied.

“it is,” he insisted.

martin, already resigned to fate, quietly added, “princess privilege.” you slowly covered your face.

“i hate all of you,” you said.

“go,” james said, pointing at you like it was both an order and an encouragement.

you walked forward slowly, bottle already feeling heavier than it actually was, mostly because everyone behind you had gone quiet in that rare, collective way that only happened when they knew something was about to either go incredibly right or incredibly wrong, and in this case, it might be both.

you stopped in front of the staff, tilting your head slightly as the producer raised the question like it was something serious and scientific.

“any strategy?” the producer asked. you looked down at the bottle for a moment, turning it slightly in your hand, then you glanced up at the group behind you where juhoon still looked like he was debating something in his head, keonho was already bouncing on his heels, seonghyeon was grinning like he was about to witness a disaster on purpose, martin looked faintly resigned to fate, and james was watching you like he already knew what you were going to say.

you looked back at your bottle again. “violence,” you said calmly.

there was a beat of silence that stretched just long enough to feel intentional. then one of the staff members nodded like they had been expecting that exact answer all day.

“fair,” they said.

another added almost immediately, “reasonable.”

and a third, without hesitation, followed with a chime of “honestly expected.”

behind you, james let out a quiet laugh, head tilting back slightly as if he had genuinely been waiting for you to say that since the beginning of the entire challenge.

“that is not a strategy,” he said, still smiling.

“it is now,” you replied without looking at him, like that settled the matter completely.

you tightened your grip on the bottle, rolled your shoulders once, and then started shaking it—properly this time. not cautiously, not experimentally, but with full commitment, like the bottle had  wronged you at some point in the last hour and you were personally settling a score.

up and down first, controlled but sharp, then faster, then angled slightly as you stepped into it, shifting your weight so it turned into something almost rhythmic, almost choreographed, but entirely unhinged in intention. sideways next, then a quick rotation, then a series of small jumps that made the bottle look like it was vibrating out of fear rather than pressure, and at one point even juhoon physically stepped back like he was trying to stay out of the path of the consequences.

“what is she doing?” keonho asked, already retreating a little.

“she’s terrifying,” seonghyeon said immediately, without hesitation.

“she’s been terrifying,” martin added quietly, as if this was just a confirmed fact at this point.

“why is she built like that?” juhoon asked, watching your grip like he was analysing a phenomenon.

“built like what?” keonho asked.

“like she knows what she’s doing,” juhoon replied.

james, still clearly amused, just shook his head slightly as he watched you continue. “don’t stop her,” he said.

“why not?” seonghyeon asked.

there was a brief pause where james looked between you and the group, still smiling in disbelief.

“because i want to see what happens,” he admitted.

that alone seemed to make everything worse. you stopped abruptly. the bottle was vibrating so intensely it looked like it had developed its own nervous system and was actively reconsidering every decision that had led it here.

you glanced sideways once, just briefly, and caught james still watching you, no longer teasing now, just focused, and he gave you the smallest nod, like a silent permission that you absolutely did not need but somehow still felt.

then you twisted the cap. a soft hiss made everyone lean in instinctively.

and then boom!

the soda launched straight upward in a clean, violent column, not spraying, not fizzing out gently, but rising like it had been released from something that could no longer contain it, shooting into the air so fast and so high that for a moment it didn’t even look real.

the reactions were instant and priceless.

“no way—!” juhoon shouted, immediately breaking into laughter as he bent forward.

“it’s still going—!” seonghyeon yelled, pointing upward like he was tracking something historic.

“what did she even do—?!” keonho joined in, taking a step back to protect himself.

martin made a sound somewhere between a scream and surrender before literally sitting down because his body had decided it could not process any more of this. “what the hell.”

and through all of it, you just stood there, watching the arc of soda rise into the sky, then breaking into proper laughter, not surprised or shocked, just satisfied, like you had already known exactly how this would end.

james just stared for a moment longer than everyone else, expression unreadable at first, then slowly shook his head as if accepting defeat in real time.

“well,” he started.

“well,” you repeated, still smiling as you looked at him.

he exhaled through his nose, a faint laugh still lingering. “you won,” he said.

“yeah,” you replied simply.

behind you, the others still attempted their turns, because pride was a dangerous and irrational thing:

juhoon’s barely moved at all.

“not as high as yn’s,” seonghyeon called immediately.

juhoon dropped his head. “i want to leave this planet.”

keonho’s attempt went sideways and splashed him instead, which only made you laugh harder from the side.

“unlucky. it’s okay, aegi,” you mocked, clapping once lightly.

“don’t enjoy that,” keonho said, pointing at you, though he was also laughing.

martin’s was modest at best, barely rising before fizzling out.

“try again,” james said quietly from beside you, though his tone was far less serious than before.

“no,” martin replied instantly.

seonghyeon’s somehow curved in the wrong direction entirely.

“no chance,” you added, still smiling.

and by the time james stepped up, even he had already accepted it. he looked at his bottle, then at you, then back at the bottle again like he was still considering whether there was any possible universe where he could beat what you had just done.

“this is still your fault,” he said.

“this is still my victory,” you corrected.

he let out a small breath, shaking his head slightly, but there was no real frustration left in it anymore, just acceptance of his loss., and the faintest trace of a smile he wasn’t even trying to hide now.

finally, the prize was announced, and it was almost anticlimactic in theory, because all it meant was that the winner could choose the thumbnail for the video. but the moment the producers said it, something in the field shifted like everyone suddenly understood that this was actually the most dangerous power anyone could be given.

the producers looked at you first. the boys immediately looked at the producers, then they looked at you again, but this time with visible concern.

“i have an idea for the thumbnail,” you said slowly.

there was an immediate pause, like the entire set had collectively braced for impact while the staff exchanged glances and the camera operators went very still.

even juhoon stopped thinking for a second, which was rare. “why are you smiling like that?” he asked cautiously.

“i think you’ll like this one,” you said.

“no we won’t,” seonghyeon replied instantly.

“yes, you will,” you said calmly.

“no,” keonho said.

“yes,” you repeated.

“no,” martin added.

“yes,” you insisted.

“this is not how voting works,” juhoon said weakly.

“it is now.” you grinned.

and somehow, that was the end of the discussion.

three minutes later, the entire production team was visibly suffering, the producers looked like they had accepted fate, the camera operators were trying not to laugh too loudly and the editors, somewhere in the control room, had already mentally titled the video. because standing in front of the camera, in a perfectly straight line, were all five boys, arms stretched out horizontally like some kind of extremely unstable conveyor belt, all waiting in confusion and regret.

“why are we doing this?” seonghyeon complained immediately.

“because i won,” you said simply.

“this doesn’t answer my question,” seonghyeon added.

“it answers mine,” you replied.

there was a pause where everyone just accepted that logic was no longer part of the process. you were gently lifted into position onto their outstretched arms—you looked like a log in their hands—and somehow it immediately became clear that each of them had been assigned a very specific role in this questionable structure.

martin was stationed near your head, and he looked like he had already mentally resigned from the group.

“don’t drop me,” you said casually.

“why would you say that?” martin asked instantly, eyes widening in panic.

“interesting reaction,” you replied.

“stop talking, please,” martin said, voice cracking slightly.

“tomartin,” seonghyeon called from somewhere.

“no,” martin said immediately, without even looking.

juhoon was supporting your shoulders, and he looked like he was actively trying to calculate the structural integrity of the situation instead of engaging with it.

“this is actually a very inefficient distribution of weight,” he said seriously.

“nerd,” you replied.

“i’m being serious.”

“nerd.”

“i’m literally helping you stay upright,” he added.

“nerd,” you said again, completely unbothered.

“i hate this group,” he muttered.

directly in the centre, of course, was james—because of course it was. he had insisted on it.

“no, i should stand here,” he had said earlier.

“why?” seonghyeon had asked.

“best balance,” james had replied immediately.

“you made that up,” you said.

“nope. it’s a whole thing,” he said.

“you absolutely made that up,” you repeated.

“no,” he insisted again.

“james,” you said.

“no,” he replied instantly.

now his arm was wrapped securely around your waist, not loosely, not awkwardly, but firmly in a way that made it very clear he had zero intention of letting you tilt even slightly out of place, and every time the group shifted or someone laughed too hard or keonho so much as breathed incorrectly, his grip adjusted automatically like it was instinct.

you felt it before you even noticed it properly—a steadying pressure that was quiet, careful, and always just there.

“comfortable?” james asked quietly, his voice lower now that he wasn’t performing for everyone else.

you glanced up at him. “yeah.”

“good,” he replied immediately.

“you’re acting like i’m fragile,” you said dryly.

“you’re horizontal. anybody in your position would be considered fragile,” he reasoned.

you paused, then nodded slightly. “fair.”

he huffed a small laugh at that, still not looking away from making sure you were actually stable.

meanwhile, keonho had been assigned to hold you near your knees, a position he had immediately taken as a personal invitation to cause problems.

“this feels weird,” keonho said.

“then stop poking my leg,” you replied.

“i wasn’t poking.”

“you literally were.”

“i was testing stability.”

“keonho,” you warned.

“for science,” he added quickly.

“juhoon, hit him,” you ordered simply.

“gladly,” juhoon replied instantly, reaching to smacking the back of keonho’s head.

“wait—”

and seonghyeon, of course, had your feet, which he did not deserve under any circumstance.

“why do i get the feet?” seonghyeon complained.

“because you’re annoying,” you said.

“that’s discrimination,” he argued.

“that’s justice,” you corrected.

and even now, there was james—still steady, still holding you securely at the waist, still annoyingly calm in the middle of everything.

“you good?” he asked again after a moment, quieter this time, like he was checking in just in case.

“yeah,” you said, looking at him briefly.

his expression softened slightly at that answer, like he was satisfied but still not letting go of the responsibility.

“don’t move too much,” he added.

“i’m not moving,” you said.

“good,” he replied. then, after a pause, almost absentmindedly, he added, “i’ve got you.”

you blinked once at that, then looked away like it was nothing, while you tried to ignore the heat rushing to your face. you did not want to get called martin’s twin again.

“i know,” you said. but the way he tightened his grip slightly right after, just to adjust your balance again, made it feel like he was taking the role very seriously anyway.

behind you, chaos continued as expected. you, meanwhile, just relaxed completely into the ridiculous formation, looking up slightly at the camera with a satisfied smile like this was exactly how winning was supposed to feel.

the photographer had officially reached a point of emotional collapse, standing slightly off to the side with the camera raised while trying very hard to maintain professional composure, even though nothing in front of him could remotely be described as normal anymore.

“okay, everyone, look here,” he said, voice strained with hope.

nobody looked, because at that exact moment, keonho laughed. it wasn’t even anything dramatic, just a small breakdown laugh that somehow carried the full weight of the entire day, and it immediately triggered a chain reaction.

your knees wobbled slightly in the structure.

“hey,” juhoon said immediately, shifting his grip.

which made seonghyeon panic for no reason at all. “don’t drop her,” he said, voice suddenly high.

“i’m not dropping anyone,” juhoon snapped back.

martin made a small noise like his soul briefly left his body.

“tomartin’s malfunctioning,” keonho said instantly.

“stop,” martin said.

“tomartin overheating,” seonghyeon added.

“stop,” martin repeated, weaker.

“tomartin.exe has stopped responding,” keonho finished, absolutely delighted with himself.

“i hate you all,” martin said flatly, which only made everyone laugh harder.

the photographer clicked the camera out of instinct. then again, and again. because every time he tried to get a ‘normal’ shot, something worse happened immediately after.

in one frame, seonghyeon was mid-argument with juhoon about ‘structural ethics of human balancing’ which nobody had asked for.

in another, juhoon was genuinely explaining weight distribution to a staff member who looked like they had only asked where the restroom was.

in another, keonho was laughing so hard he had forgotten he was part of the supporting system keeping you off the ground entirely.

and in nearly every single shot; james was not looking at the camera. he was looking at you—not dramatically or performatively, just consistently, like the camera was an afterthought and you were the actual subject of the frame.

you noticed it once, then again, then again, until it became impossible not to.

“james,” you said quietly, not turning your head fully, “you’re supposed to be looking forward.”

“i am,” he replied immediately, which was a complete lie.

“that’s not forward,” you said.

“it is. my forward,” he said.

you huffed a small laugh, and his expression shifted slightly, like that was the reaction he had actually been waiting for.

the photographer noticed too. (of course he did.)

he leaned slightly to one side, trying to find an angle where both of you were visible without the rest of the chaos ruining everything, and muttered under his breath, “they’re going to use this frame later, i just know it.”

“try to look at the camera,” the photographer said louder. nobody did. because keonho started laughing again, which made seonghyeon lose balance slightly, which made juhoon tighten his grip, which made martin whisper, “i think this is it for me.”

“don’t say that,” you said immediately, trying not to laugh yourself.

“it’s already happening,” martin replied.

“tomartin, stay with us,” seonghyeon said.

“do not call me that,” martin said, exhausted.

“tomartin,” keonho added softly.

“i will leave this group,” martin said firmly.

in one of the photos, you were laughing properly, head tilted slightly back, while james was still looking at you instead of the lens like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“i think we got it,” the photographer said finally, lowering the camera like he was surrendering.

“finally,” juhoon muttered.

“did we?” keonho asked.

“no,” martin said immediately.

“yes,” james said, still not looking away from you. you glanced at him again.

“you’re still not looking at the camera,” you said.

“i am.”

“you are literally not.”

he paused for half a second, then very slowly said, “the camera is optional.”

you laughed under your breath again, and the photographer physically sighed like he had just witnessed a problem he couldn’t fix.

later, when the final thumbnail was chosen, it would somehow be worse and better than anyone expected—five boys arranged like chaotic medieval knights holding a very amused princess in a perfectly absurd horizontal formation, martin visibly red and suffering, juhoon mid-analysis, keonho laughing like he had no survival instincts left, seonghyeon mid-complaint, and james positioned exactly where he insisted he should be, still looking at you instead of the camera.

the editors’ final touches, of course, included zoom-ins, sparkles, and entirely unnecessary heart effects whenever james breathed near you.

when the video finally went up, the comments agreed on one thing almost instantly.

first place: your soda explosion.

second place: james’ inability to act normal around you.

and third place, eternally, undeniably: 🍅 tomartin 🍅 who, despite everything, never recovered from that nickname for the rest of the entire video.

© hyuneskkami ❦

❛ 𝓦𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒+𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. ❜ cursing ⠀·⠀ fangirling ⠀·⠀ james being beautiful ⠀·⠀ reader being the down bad gf she is (me) ⠀·⠀ if the middle pic on top looks poorly edited, that’s bc it is. my ibis paint came in clutch bc i wanted the 09z OUT of that group picture i NEED a solo photoshoot of him on this hair 😭🙏 (sorry twinz 😓)

❛ 𝓝𝐎𝐓𝐄. ❜ but skye! all these photos of him dropped just two hours ago! i know. I KNOWWWW. i’m SO DOWN BAD FOR HIM BRO IT’S NOT FUNNYYY 😭😭 ⠀·⠀ BUT SKYE! YOU ALREADY POSTED A FIC TODAY!! I KNOW……… but skye :D you also have your physics final tmr! I K N O W. I HATE JAMES BRO ⠀·⠀ sorry guys i think i might like james idk tho

❛ 𝓢𝐂. ❜ 12.

edit; image 14 needs to say ‘every app’ instead of ‘ever app’ 💀 pls ignore i typed it all out as i was actively crashing out in real time 😭

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