koya

I remember standing by the ocean Watching all the waves just rollin' on

You sat beside Hongjoong, your head resting comfortably against his shoulder while Yeosang stretched out between your legs. The ocean rolled in and out in front of you. Waves crashing softly against the shore. The salty air filled your lungs with every breath, the breeze occasionally brushing strands of hair across your face. For once, everything felt quiet. Peaceful even.

A kind of peace you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. No more tension. No more awkward glances. No more rooms filled with unsaid feelings. Just this.

Just the three of you after everything that happened... Gods, you have missed this. You missed breathing without feeling like your chest was caving in. Missed laughing without guilt sitting in your stomach. Missed existing without waiting for something bad to happen.

Beside you, Hongjoong shifted slightly, pressing his cheek gently against the top of your head. A quiet habit that made you lips twitch.

Meanwhile, Yeosang was entirely occupied with your hand. Specifically, your left hand. His fingers absentmindedly played with yours, occasionally twisting the ring around your finger. The engagement ring caught the sunlight each time it moved, sparkling brightly enough to steal your attention.

You looked down and immediately smiled. Because Yeosang was staring at it too. And the expression on his face, the pure pride and happiness. A smile sat on his lips as he carefully turned the ring again.

The ring. The one he and Hongjoong picked together. The one they spent entirely too much time debating over. The one that now sat on your finger because after all the heartbreak, after all the healing, Yeosang got to propose too.

Finally, even if it was Hongjoong. He can recall the tearful face of yours, the faintest yes leaving your lips as Hongjoong took off the old ring. Yeosang getting the honors of placing the new. Yeosang glanced up and caught you staring.

“What?” he asked, trying and failing to hide his grin.

You raised an eyebrow. “You've been staring at it for like ten minutes.”

Immediately, his ears tinted pink. “I have not.”

“You absolutely have.”

Hongjoong snorted beside you, causing the three of you to burst out laughing. And just like that, the sound of their laughter mixed with the ocean waves. And for the first time in what felt like forever you truly felt at home again.

I remember shadows growing darker, yeah. Then the morning broke with a brighter sun, yeah

Seonghwa couldn't believe his ears. The words echoed over and over in his head, each repetition somehow hitting harder than the last.

"I think we should stay being friends."

Everything after that became muffled. Like he was underwater. Like someone had pressed mute on the world. He was vaguely aware of himself nodding. Aware of you sitting across from him. But the ringing in his ears drowned everything else out.

What had he expected? Honestly? What had he really expected?

That you would welcome him back with open arms?

That after starting the worst year of your life, after breaking your heart and walking away, you would simply let him step back into the place he once occupied?

The thought alone made his stomach twist. Of course not. You deserved better than that. You always had. Across from him, you noticed immediately.

Because despite everything you still knew him. You always would. Your hand gently touched his. The contact pulled him back just enough to focus on you again. "Hwa..."

His eyes lifted.

"It doesn't mean I don't love you."

The words immediately made his chest ache. You smiled sadly. "We're still going to be us."

A pause.

"Just not romantically."

His throat tightened.

"And with more boundaries."

There it was. The reality of it. No anger, no hatred, not even rejection. Just a boundary. A consequence that was his fault. A line drawn by someone who had finally learned to protect herself.

And he didnt know that would hurt more. Because he couldn't even argue with it. Couldn't tell you it was unfair. Couldn't tell you that you were wrong. You weren't.

You were finally choosing yourself.

Something he should've wanted all along. Seonghwa swallowed hard before forcing a smile onto his face. The strongest one he could manage. "Of course, Yn."

His voice sounded steadier than he felt. "Anything you wish for, princess."

Your smile softened. For a brief second, he saw the person he'd fallen in love with all those years ago. Then you leaned forward. And pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek.

Tender, affectionate and goodbye. A goodbye to the version of you two that once existed.

Then you stood and left. The door clicking shut behind you. The room became silent. Seonghwa remained exactly where he was.

Still smiling. Still staring at the spot you'd been sitting moments ago. Until something wet landed on the back of his hand. He blinked.

Looked down. Another followed. Then another.

Only then did he realize he was crying. Not loudly, nor dramatically. Just quiet tears slipping down his face as the reality settles in. You still loved him. Just not the love he was hoping for. And that somehow made it worse.

Because for the first time since he broke up with you, Seonghwa understood something with painful clarity: Loving someone wasn't always enough to be allowed back into their heart.

Sometimes, you gotta move forward Just take it step by step

You stood awkwardly in the doorway of Yunho's room. He sat in his desk chair facing you, hands clasped together as if he was trying to stop himself from fidgeting. The tension in the room was so thick it made you want to turn around, find Hongjoong and Yeosang, and drag them back as emotional support.

Taking a breath, you finally spoke. "Look, Yunho—"

"I know." He cut you off before you could continue. "We're not getting back together."

You blinked. The bluntness caught you off guard. It stung a little, but not nearly as much as it would have a year ago. "Well," you said dryly, crossing your arms, "there's no need to be so blunt about it."

A sheepish smile tugged at his lips.

"Sorry. I just..." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've accepted the fact that even if I apologized and spent the rest of my life proving how sorry I am, you still wouldn't want to be with me."

You couldn't even argue with that. After several long conversations with your fiancés, the answer had become clear. Getting back together with Yunho wasn't something you wanted. Not anymore.

"It's just..." You shifted your weight. "Yunho, you did the most damage after the breakup."

His smile disappeared.

"You didn't stay away, but you weren't kind either. You didn't give me any sign that we could even be friendly. Every interaction felt like you hated me."

Guilt flashed across his face. "And I'm still sorry for that," he said quietly. "The whole thing just blew up after I got that text and—"

"And I get that, Yun. I really do."

The nickname slipped out naturally. Softly. "But it's still not an excuse."

Something visibly jolted in him. Yun. You hadn't called him that in over a year. For a moment, he simply stared. Because despite everything, despite knowing he'd ruined any chance of getting you back, hearing that nickname made his chest ache.

He was still in love with you.

That much had never changed. But he also knew he'd destroyed something that couldn't simply be repaired with an apology. He'd seen the disappointment in Hongjoong's eyes. Seen it in Mingi's too.His best friend. The people who had watched him self-destruct alongside you.

"Will we at least still be friends?" he asked softly, avoiding eye contact.

Silence filled the room. You thought about it for a moment before answering. "Of course, Yunho."

His eyes lifted.

"We were friends before we were lovers."

The tension in his shoulders loosened slightly.

"And I don't want to lose that."

You stepped forward. Hesitating for only a second before closing the distance between you. Yunho froze. Then you leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead. His breath caught instantly. Before he could stop himself, his hands found your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. Not in a romantic or possessive way. Just desperate, like he wanted to hold onto this version of you for a little longer.

You let him, just for a moment. Then you shifted. A silent reminder that it was time to let go. Slowly, his arms loosened.

You smiled sadly. "I honestly do miss our gaming sessions."

The confession came out as a whisper. Then you stepped away and headed for the door. Yunho watched you leave. The room felt empty the second you were gone. The door clicked shut behind you. And only then did he finally speak.

"I miss them too."

The words fell into the silence, he was the only one left to hear them.

And then you'll notice You've found your place (goddamn!)

You and Yeosang were at the gym, working out separately but close enough to keep each other in sight. Yeosang was across the room working through a set of weights while you focused on hip thrusts and squats, earbuds tucked into your ears.

Neither of you noticed the pair of eyes occasionally drifting your way. San had been working on his arms a few machines over, doing his best to focus on his workout instead of you.

Failing miserably. As he finished a set and reached for his water bottle, a familiar laugh suddenly filtered through his headphones. His head snapped up.

That laugh. Your laugh. The audio playing from his phone wasn't music. It was him. More specifically, an old recording of the two of you pretending to host a podcast. One of hundreds of ridiculous voice memos the two of you used to make.

"Can you believe the Choi Jongho has a hickey?" his own voice rang through the earbud.

A second later came the sound of your snort. Then your bright, uncontrollable giggles. The kind that always made him keep talking just to hear more of them.

"I heard he got caught making out behind the dorms."

Another burst of laughter. San felt his chest tighten painfully. Tears immediately stung his eyes. He grabbed his sweat towel and pressed it against his face, pretending to wipe away sweat while discreetly blinking away the emotion threatening to spill over.

A tap on his shoulder startled him. San nearly jumped. Turning around, he froze. You stood there holding your water bottle, offering him a small smile.

"Yn," he breathed. The towel nearly slipped from his hand.

"Hi, Sannie," you said softly.

The nickname alone nearly knocked the air from his lungs. His eyes immediately darted around the gym. Looking for Yeosang.

You noticed instantly. "He went back to shower."

San nodded. Still staring, trying to process the fact that you were standing in front of him. Then you shifted awkwardly.

"Do you want to... maybe get some lunch?"

For a second, he genuinely thought he imagined it. Then realization hit. You were asking him. His heart nearly stopped.

"Yeah." The answer came far too quickly.

"Yeah, I'd like that." The smile that appeared on his face was impossible to hide. Maybe this was a chance. Maybe this was finally his chance to apologize.

—

A short while later, the two of you sat across from each other at a small café near the gym. A protein smoothie sat in front of you. One San had insisted on buying. Refusing to even let you reach for your wallet. You took a sip before glancing up at him.

The nervous energy practically radiated off him that you felt bad for a moment you had to break the tension. "So..."

"I'm sorry."

The words exploded out of him. You blinked, clearly not expecting him to launch straight into it. San immediately groaned and dragged a hand down his face.

"So much for easing into the conversation."

A small laugh escaped you. Despite yourself. Taking that as encouragement, he pushed forward.

"I'm sorry for ghosting you." His voice softened.

"I don't have an excuse." The smile faded from his face.

"I don't." He shook his head.

"What I did was selfish and cowardly, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you'll let me." The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache.

You offered him a soft smile. "Oh, San..."

The nickname alone nearly made him tear up again. Because you still said it the same way. The same looked at him as well, so gentle and warm. Far kinder than he deserved.

Across from you, San immediately looked nervous. Like he was bracing for impact.

"Seonghwa and Yunho, they're a fucking mess after you talked to them," he admitted with a weak laugh. "I'm fully expecting to be too after you chew me out."

A surprised laugh escaped you. Not because it was funny. But because he genuinely looked terrified. "Good," you replied.

San groaned immediately, dropping his forehead into his hands. "I knew it."

"You should."

His shoulders shook with a defeated laugh. You took another sip of your smoothie before setting it down. The smile faded slightly. Not completely, just enough.

"Do you know what hurt most?"

San slowly lifted his head. The fear immediately returned. Because your voice wasn't angry. It was sad. And somehow that was worse.

"I kept making excuses for you."

His expression crumpled instantly. You looked down at your drink.

"When everyone else broke up with me, I told myself you'd never do that."

Silence.

"I defended you."

San's eyes immediately began stinging. Because he remembered. Remembered how many times he promised he'd never leave. How many times he'd been the one reassuring you. The dependable one. The safe one.

"I told myself San would call eventually."

Your voice cracked slightly. "Then I thought maybe you were busy."

San couldn't look at you anymore. Then came the words that shattered him.

"Then I started wondering if you were hurt."

A pause.

"If you were sick."

Another pause.

"If you hated me."

San squeezed his eyes shut. Because every possibility you'd imagined was better than the truth. The truth was that he'd seen your calls, your messages. Seen your name appear on his screen. And done absolutely nothing.

"I know," he whispered.

His voice sounded broken. "I know."

You shook your head.

"No." Your eyes finally met his. "I don't think you do."

The restaurant suddenly felt too quiet. Too small. Because there was no anger in your face. Only hurt.

"Ghosting me wasn't just you leaving, San." Your fingers tightened around your cup.

"It made me question every memory we had."

His breath caught. Because he had never thought of it that way. Not even once.

"I kept wondering if any of it was real."

Immediately, tears filled his eyes. "Yn—"

"Was I that easy to throw away?"

The question came out quietly. And San looked like he'd been punched. Because there wasn't a single answer he could give that would make that hurt disappear.

"No."

The response came instantly and desperately. "No, no. God, no."

His eyes overflowed. "You were never easy to leave."

His voice shook a little bit now. "You were the hardest thing I've ever walked away from."

A tear slid down his cheek.

"And I did it anyway."

"I was a coward."

Another tear followed.

"I thought if I disappeared, it'd hurt less than hearing me say it." He laughed bitterly. "Turns out I was wrong."

You stared at him for a long moment. Taking in the tears and regret. The guilt he'd clearly been carrying for over a year. Then quietly, you spoke.

"Yeah."

San winced. Because he knew he deserved that.

"It did hurt more." you said softly.

San was fumbling with his fingers now, his eyes focused on them when your hands came into view, cupping his. That's when he looked up and can see the pain.

" even though it hurt, i forgive you San... and i think we should just stay as friends."

He knew he shouldnt be hurt. He knows that but fuck does it hurt so much. He sucked in a deep breathe, wanting this to be dream. You can see the turmoil on his face. It was the same one you would make a year ago.

San's lip quivered. He immediately looked away, blinking rapidly as he tried to keep himself together in the middle of a crowded café.

You noticed. Of course you did. You always noticed. "I still love you, Sannie."

The words made his chest ache. Not because they gave him hope. Because they didn't, at least, not anymore.

The hope had already been gently taken from his hands. But hearing that you still loved him somehow hurt more than hearing you didn't.

Because it meant he hadn't imagined it. What the two of you had was real. It just wasn't enough to undo what happened.

You squeezed his hand gently. "But I need time to heal from you."

San nodded slowly.

You took a shaky breath. "I've accepted that Seonghwa and Yunho will never be the same again."

The words hung in the air.

"And that hurts."

Your gaze dropped to your intertwined hands.

"But with you..."

San's breath caught. Because there was something different in your voice. Something softer.

You smiled sadly. "With you, I imagined a whole future."

The tears he'd been fighting finally spilled over.

A family. A home.

Growing old together, every stupid date, every lazy morning, every dream he'd let himself have.

Gone, because he'd broken something precious enough that it couldn't be rebuilt overnight. Maybe not ever.

"Yn..." His voice cracked.

You smiled anyway, a gentle one. The same one that always made him feel safe. Taking a deep breath, San wiped quickly at his eyes and forced himself to speak.

"I wish you nothing but the best with them."

His voice was rough but honest. Because despite how much it hurt, he meant it. Your smile widened immediately, a real one this time.

Bright enough to make his heart squeeze. Instinctively, both of your gazes dropped to your left hand. The engagement ring sparkled beneath the café lights. A reminder of the future you'd chosen. The future waiting for you.

"Thank you, Sannie."

hold onto your ground, doesnt matter how

You and Hongjoong had known there would be backlash. No matter when you announced your engagement, there would always be people who questioned it. You'd told yourself that for weeks.

Repeated it like a mantra. Tried to prepared for it. Or at least you thought you had.

But nothing prepared you for actually seeing it. The post had only been up for thirty minutes. Thirty. And already the comments were flooding in.

Anonymous yeah sure. announce an engagement RIGHT after a scandal.

hj&ynlover i love them but this feels really suspicious. happy for them, i guess?

yeosangleftsock oh please. this is the most obvious publicity stunt i've ever seen.

Your stomach dropped. Every comment felt like another hand reaching into your chest and squeezing. Because they weren't talking about some celebrity. They were talking about your life.

Your pain, love and future.

Anonymous she got caught in a scandal and suddenly they're engaged? okay.

Anonymous trying to distract everyone from the poly rumors.

Anonymous he deserves better honestly.

That one made your breath hitch. Your thumb froze.

Anonymous she's always causing problems for the group.

Anonymous i miss when ateez wasn't messy.

Anonymous this relationship always felt off.

Your vision blurred, tears stinging your eyes as you desperately tried to blink them away. This wasn't speculation. This was your engagement.

Your future, the happiest moment of your life reduced to strangers calling it fake. Your chest tightened painfully as another comment flashed through your mind.

He deserves better.

The words hit harder than they should have. Because after everything, after the breakups and the scandal. there was still a part of you that wondered if everyone would be happier without you.

A sob threatened to escape. You quickly pressed a hand over your mouth.

God, not now. Not when they would be home any minute.

You wiped furiously at your face. Trying to erase any evidence. Trying to compose yourself. Then you heard the front door.

The familiar sound of keys. The door opening. Voices immediately filling the apartment. You hurriedly wiped your cheeks again, rushing off the couch as you ran towards the kitchen.

The door to the living room swung open. Hongjoong and Yeosang walked in together, still caught up in whatever conversation they'd been having. Neither noticed you at first.

"Baby!"

Yeosang's voice filled the room immediately. Bright and excited.

"You would not believe what Hongjoong did during our suit fitting."

A small laugh escaped Hongjoong.

"Don't start."

"Oh, I'm absolutely starting."

Yeosang kicked off his shoes and pointed dramatically toward him.

"This man got emotional."

You let out a small laugh. A convincing one, at least, you hoped it was. Quickly turning back toward the kitchen island, you reached for an onion and a knife. Anything to keep them from looking too closely.

Anything to explain the burning in your eyes.

The comments still sat heavy in your chest.

He deserves better.

Publicity stunt.

Damage control.

You swallowed hard and focused on the cutting board. Hongjoong and Yeosang wandered into the kitchen together, still lightly bickering.

"He cried."

"I did not." Hongjoong whined.

"You literally did."

"I was not crying."

Before either of them could notice anything strange, they stepped into your space. Yeosang kissed your cheek. Hongjoong pressed a quick peck against your lips.

The simple affection nearly broke you all over again. Because they loved you so easily. And strangers hated you just as easily.

The moment they pulled away, Hongjoong frowned. His hand lifted. Carefully brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Baby."

Your stomach dropped. His thumb lingered against your cheek.

"Have you been crying?"

For a split second, your entire body froze. You turned around quickly and held up the onion in your hand like evidence.

"Just the onions I'm cutting for dinner."

The lie slipped so much easier than you thought it would. Hongjoong stared at you for a moment before nodding his head.

" alright... but you'll let us know is anything is brothering you right?"

you nodded your head, pressing a reassuring kiss to his cheek, as well as Yeosangs. " i promise, now go get washed up boys. Dinner will be done shortly."

buying your excuse, you let out a sigh of relief that you didnt even realize that you were holding in.

they don’t even care so then, why should you?

You didn’t remember when your emotions had gotten this bad. Maybe it had been gradual. Like it had happened so slowly that you never noticed until now. All you knew was that lately, it felt like everything hurt more than it should.

You leaned heavily against the kitchen counter, tears streaming down your face as the last remnants of your sobs slowly quieted. Your chest still ached from the breakdown you’d just had, the aftermath lingering like a storm that refused to fully pass.

The house was silent, a little too silent. And in that silence, the thoughts came back.

“You don’t deserve them.”

Your head snapped up. The reflection staring back at you looked foreign. Cruel, almost hateful.

“I mean, who would want to stay with you?”

Your breath caught. Fresh tears immediately welled in your eyes. “No,” you whispered.

But the voice kept going,relentless and so cruel.

“Look at yourself, you’re exhausting. Too emotional.”

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs. Another tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn’t look away from your reflection, as if your memorized to your own cruelty.

“It’s why they didn’t invite you to the cake tasting.”

The thought struck deeper than it should have. A stupid thing. Something that had a perfectly reasonable explanation. Yet somehow your brain had twisted it into evidence.Evidence that you were unwanted and that you were being left behind.

“You’re so sensitive. It’s probably why they needed a break from you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut immediately, hard. Like you could physically force the thoughts away. Your chest heaved as you fought for a steady breath.

But it wasn’t working. The breathing exercises that you and yeosang practiced out the window. A sob was working it’s way back up again. Because the worst part wasn’t hearing the words. The worst part was that some small, broken piece of you believed them.

you didn’t recognize yourself anymore. Not the girl who used to stand her ground. Not the woman who used to fight back. Just someone standing alone in the bathroom, crying over comments, over cake tastings, over things that shouldn’t hurt this much.

yet somehow it did and no matter how tightly you shut your eyes, you couldn’t stop hearing that voice. Sounding exactly like your own.

“ you should just end it all. i mean, you would make everyones lives so much better. everyone is thinking it.”

a choked sobbed left your throat as you stared at the razor that hung on the wall. your vision so blurred and the tightness in your chest began to hurt. your hand trembled, feeling around for your phone.

your fingers hovered over hongjoongs contact, hesitating on bothering calling him. Staring back at your reflection who held such a cruel smirk on her face, your hands reached across the sink.

dont stop believing how you got here hold onto that feelin gonna make it far enough

Hongjoong and Yeosang arrived home to an unsettling silence.

The kind that immediately put them on edge. It was strange. The apartment was usually filled with something like, music playing from your phone, the television running in the background, your laughter carrying from another room, or even just your voice talking to Mouse.

But now? Nothing.

The silence wrapped around them the moment they stepped through the front door, sending an uneasy chill down their spines. Each of them carried a small bag from the cake tasting, having brought home slices for you to try. The entire drive back had been spent arguing over which flavor you'd choose as your favorite.

"Yn! Baby, we're home!"

Hongjoong slipped into his slippers as he called out, expecting to hear your voice almost immediately. Nothing answered him.

Yeosang frowned. "Maybe she's asleep?"

It wasn't impossible. The past few weeks had been exhausting, and lately you'd seemed more tired than usual. Still, something felt off. A sharp yelp suddenly echoed down the hallway.

Both men turned instantly. "Mouse?"

Another yelp. Followed by frantic scratching. Hongjoong's stomach tightened. Without thinking, he headed toward the spare room where the noise was coming from.

The scratching grew louder as he approached. "mouse?"

The moment he opened the door, Mouse practically launched himself out of the room. The dog jumped against Hongjoong's legs before immediately rushing toward Yeosang, whining loudly.

"Whoa, hey." Yeosang crouched down, rubbing behind Mouse's ears.

The dog wouldn't settle. Instead, he paced between them anxiously, letting out another distressed whine.

Hongjoong exchanged a look with Yeosang. Something wasn't right.

"That's odd..." Yeosang murmured, watching Mouse dart toward the hallway before looking back at them again.

His brows furrowed. "Usually Yn has him with her."

The uneasy feeling in Hongjoong's chest suddenly grew heavier. Because Yeosang was right. Mouse followed you everywhere, like a shadow.

And if he was locked away in the spare room by himself, where were you?

Hongjoong set the bag of cake slices down on the kitchen counter, the cheerful conversation from earlier long forgotten. The uneasy feeling in his chest had only grown stronger. Mouse's anxious behavior.

The fact that you hadn't come running out to greet them. None of it felt right. Without saying a word, he headed toward your shared bedroom. The hallway suddenly felt much longer than usual.

When he pushed open the door, his stomach dropped. The bed was empty. The blankets were still rumpled from that morning, but there was no sign of you.

His eyes immediately caught on the sliver of light spilling from beneath the bathroom door. The light was on.

A sinking feeling settled heavily in his stomach.

"Baby?" he called softly. No answer.

Behind him, he could hear Yeosang approaching, his footsteps quickening when he saw Hongjoong standing frozen in the doorway.

"Is she in there?" Yeosang asked quietly.

Hongjoong didn't answer right away. Because suddenly every terrible possibility was trying to force its way into his mind. His throat tightened.

"Yn?" he called again, a little louder this time.

Still nothing. His hands began to shake, just slightly. But enough for him to notice. Enough that he had to curl them into fists before reaching for the doorknob.

The metal felt cold beneath his palm. For a moment, he simply stood there. Heart pounding. Breath caught somewhere in his throat. Trying to convince himself he was overreacting. Trying to convince himself that you were probably just taking a bath.

Probably scrolling through your phone. Probably annoyed that he kept calling your name. But the dread in his chest refused to ease.

And as he wrapped his fingers around the handle, Hongjoong found himself taking a shaky breath. One he couldn't quite seem to finish.

Hongjoong breathe was caught in his throat, the scene forever pictured in his mind now. A wail left his body as he stumbled towards the bathtub. The crimson red blood stained the floor as Yeosang eyes widen at the scene. Hongjoong crawled towards your body, tears streaming down his face.

" y-yn!" he cried, putting pressure onto your open wounds.

Yeosang was fumbling with his phone, stuttering to get his words out as Hongjoong was frantically calling your name. Deep down, they both knew.

you were dead.

gonna make it far enough

Seonghwa was the first to get the call. One moment, he was sitting on the floor of his apartment, absentmindedly sorting through a set of Legos while a show played quietly in the background.

The next, his phone rang. Hongjoong.

A small smile had started to form before he answered. It vanished almost immediately. The color drained from his face. The Lego piece slipped from his fingers, clattering against the hardwood floor.

"Hongjoong?" His voice came out strained.

Whatever Hongjoong said next made Seonghwa shoot to his feet so fast the box of Legos overturned beside him.

"Where are you?"

San and Jongho looked up from the living room instantly. Because Seonghwa never sounded like that. So panicked and terrified. His hands were shaking as he grabbed his keys.

"Okay. Okay, we're coming right now."

The call ended.

"Hyung?" Jongho asked, already standing.

Seonghwa couldn't seem to catch his breath.

"Get your shoes."

The words came out broken, urgent and it brought chills to San and Jongho. Enough that neither San nor Jongho questioned him. They were moving before he even finished speaking. Because the look on Seonghwa's face told them everything they needed to know.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

im so scared, i feel like i might fall i cant believe you for even a moment, so im in a hurry to hide it.

Across the city, Wooyoung was grocery shopping when his phone rang. Yeosang. Without thinking, he answered with a soft smile.

"Hey, did you guys finally decide what flavor-"

The smile disappeared instantly. His entire body went still. The shopping cart slipped from his grip. For a moment, he simply stood there in the middle of the aisle. Just listening. His expression growing paler with every passing second.

"Yeosang..." His voice cracked.

The cart sat abandoned beside him. Half filled with groceries. Items he'd spent twenty minutes comparing. Things that suddenly felt completely insignificant.

Wooyoung squeezed his eyes shut. Then he was moving, leaving everything exactly where it was. The shopping cart sat abandoned in the middle of the aisle, groceries half-finished and forgotten.

People turned as he rushed past them. He didn't notice nor didn't care. The only thing that mattered was getting to the hospital.

His hands shook as he pushed through the automatic doors, nearly dropping his phone in the process. Yeosang's voice still echoed in his head, strained and terrified in a way Wooyoung had never heard before.

Every red light felt too long and unbearable. All he could think was one desperate prayer: Please be okay.

why dont you try hiding it? go ahead and dive in even when the world pushes you away you remember that moment, that we shared together

Across town, Mingi and Yunho were in the middle of a game when both of their phones began ringing simultaneously. The sudden interruption drew confused looks from both of them.

Before either could answer, the dorm room door flew open. Their manager burst inside. The color had completely drained from his face.

"Hyung, what is go-"

"No questions."

His voice was sharp, urgent. The kind of voice that immediately made your stomach drop. The last time they'd heard him sound like that was when he'd rushed them to the hospital after Yn's miscarriage. The memory hit both of them instantly.

"Get up."

Neither Mingi nor Yunho argued nor asked another question. A knot twisted painfully in Mingi's stomach as he pushed himself to his feet. Something was wrong. very, very wrong.

Yunho could see their manager's mouth moving. Could see the panic written all over his face. But suddenly there was a loud buzzing in his ears. Everything sounded distant.

Muffled, as if he was underwater. His pulse thundered violently in his chest.

"Hyung..."The word barely left his mouth.

Their manager's expression crumpled. And somehow that terrified him more than anything else. Because managers were supposed to stay calm. Yet standing in front of them was a man who looked utterly shaken.

"It's Yn."

The world stopped. Nobody breathed.

Then Mingi's knees nearly gave out beneath him. He caught himself on the edge of the desk, his hand trembling violently.

"No." The word escaped before he could stop it.

Yunho felt his own stomach drop. Cold dread spreading through every inch of his body.

"What happened?"

His voice sounded strangled. The manager looked away for a moment and that was enough. Because suddenly every horrible possibility was crashing through their minds.

Mingi was already grabbing his shoes. His fingers fumbling so badly he could barely tie them.

Yunho's heart slammed against his ribs. Hard. The buzzing in his ears only grew louder. Because for the first time since everything had happened he was truly terrified.

Not of losing a relationship or a friend. But of losing you. And suddenly every argument felt stupid. Every grudge felt meaningless. All the cruel word he'd ever thrown at her replayed in his head.

As they rushed out the door behind their manager, neither man realized they were crying. Only that they couldn't get to the hospital fast enough.

when i become more critical of myself than anyone else, just take a breath, thats enough

Hongjoong sat motionless in the hospital waiting room. He couldn't remember how long he'd been there. Time had stopped making sense the moment the doctors had taken you from his arms.

Everything since then felt distant. Muted even. Like he was watching someone else's life unfold from far away.

His hands trembled in his lap. He stared at them, unable to look away. Tears slid silently down his face. He didn't bother wiping them away.

All he could think about were the last few weeks. The signs he'd missed. The moments that seemed insignificant at the time. Your forced smiles. The exhaustion from practice and comeback preparations.

The way you insisted that you were fine or how you'll laugh your tears off. The way you'll kissed his cheek and told him dinner would be ready soon. A broken sound escaped him.

How had he not seen it? How had he looked directly at the woman he loved and failed to realize how much she was hurting?

His chest tightened painfully. Because no matter how many times he replayed it, the outcome never changed. He should have stayed. Should have pushed harder. he should of asked one more question.

sometimes you gotta move forward, just take it step by step and then you'll notice youve found your place

Beside him, Yeosang sat with his head in his hands. Silent tears slipping through his fingers. The waiting room was full of people now.

His members and managers, yet Yeosang had never felt more alone. Because the only person he wanted was the one currently behind those hospital doors. And for the first time in a very long time, yeosang felt completely helpless. All he could do was wait.

The image of you in the bathtub, laying lifeless haunts his mind. Scared to close his eyes, he just stared at the white tile floors. Fiddling with the ring you had gifted him not to long ago.

The smile on your face memorized, as you gave him a sweet kiss. His hands finding your waist as you placed the ring on his finger. your voice echoing in his mind.

"now we're matching!"

god damn, hold on to your ground doesnt matter how. they dont even care, so then why should you?

San couldn't sit still. He paced the length of the waiting room over and over, one hand tangled in his hair while the other wiped uselessly at the tears that refused to stop falling.

Across from him, Wooyoung had long since broken down. His elbows rested on his knees, face buried in trembling hands as quiet sobs echoed through the otherwise silent room.

Neither of them had imagined they'd ever be back here. Not after everything. They had just gotten on speaking terms with you.

Jongho sat rigidly in one of the plastic chairs, his knee bouncing uncontrollably. He stared at the floor as though afraid to look at anyone else.

"She has to be okay..."

His voice barely carried across the room. "...Right?"

The question lingered as no one answered. It wasn't because they didn't want to. It was that none of them knew what to say.

The waiting room felt suspended in time. Every second stretched into an eternity. Every time footsteps echoed down the hallway, every head lifted in hope. Only to fall again when they passed.

Mingi sat with his hands clasped so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Yunho hadn't spoken a single word since arriving. His eyes remained fixed on the closed doors at the end of the corridor. He couldn't stop replaying their last conversation.

The things he'd said. The things he'd never apologized for.

Seonghwa closed his eyes. For the first time in a long time, no one cared about misunderstandings.

Or breakups.

Or jealousy.

Or hurt feelings.

All that mattered now was one simple wish that every person in that room shared: Let her come back to us.

don't stop believing how you got there. hold onto that feelin, gonna make it far enough

The words barely had time to register before his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed to his knees, a broken sob tearing from his chest. The rest of the members didn't need to hear the doctor's voice to understand. The look on Hongjoong's face told them everything: You hadn't made it.

Jongho remained frozen in his chair, unable to move as tears streamed silently down his face. His hands trembled in his lap, his gaze fixed on the floor, unable to look at his hyungs as the reality settled over them. The thought echoed relentlessly in his mind, you were gone.

His chest ached with a grief so profound it felt impossible to breathe through. The person who had always been his greatest source of comfort, his favorite member, the one who had been there through every triumph and hardship... was gone. And for the first time in a long time, Jongho felt completely helpless.

when all the walls are closing. when the weights hard to bear

Wooyoung struggled to breathe, each breath catching painfully in his throat as his hands tangled in his hair. His frantic eyes darted around the room, searching for something, anything , that could undo what had just happened.

Regret consumed him in an instant, swallowing him whole. He would have given anything for one more chance. One more kiss, one more opportunity to pull you into his arms and hold you so tightly you'd never have to doubt how much you meant to him. To bury his face against your hair and whisper endless apologies, telling you over and over how deeply he loved you.

But there were no second chances. Just the crushing silence you had left behind, and the unbearable weight of everything he would never get to say.

when you feel like youre nowhere. let it go 'cause ill be there for you

Mingi stared blankly at the wall, completely motionless as tears streamed endlessly down his face. He didn't wipe them away. He didn't seem to notice them at all. He didn't understand. He just couldn't.

His mind rejected every word the doctor had spoken, refusing to let them settle into reality. It had to be a mistake. There had to be another explanation, just anything but this.

You couldn't be gone. Not you. Not his beloved princess.

His breathing was shallow, his thoughts trapped in an endless loop of denial as the truth hovered just beyond his reach. No matter how many sobs echoed through the hallway, how broken the others sounded, he couldn't force himself to acknowledge it.

Because the moment he did... It meant accepting that you were really gone. And that was a reality Mingi simply couldn't bear.

when there is no one for you when you just need a friend 

San was the only one who found the strength to follow the doctor back to your room. Each step felt heavier than the last, his breathing growing more uneven the closer he came. The hallway seemed impossibly long, every footfall echoing in his ears as his heart pounded against his ribs.

His body had already begun to tense, every muscle rigid. Every instinct screamed at him to turn around: to run, to pretend this wasn't real, to never walk through that door.

Because he knew that once he did... there would be no denying the truth. His trembling hand hovered near the doorframe as he fought to steady his breathing, tears blurring his vision. He wasn't ready to see you like this.

But he couldn't bring himself to leave you alone, either. Not after the year you had. You deserved to be surrounded with love. He can see his hand shaking on the doorknob, the few tears that slipped past him falling to the ground.

Taking in a breathe that he could muster up, he finally entered the room.

when you're just feeling lonely Ill be there

Yeosang stumbled into the nearest bathroom, barely making it inside before locking himself in a stall. The moment the latch clicked into place, his composure shattered.

A broken sob escaped him as his body began to tremble uncontrollably. He pressed a shaking hand over his mouth, desperately trying to muffle the cries that refused to stop, his shoulders shaking with the force of each one.

His thoughts spiraled without mercy. All he could think about was you. How frightened you must have been. Whether you had been looking for them. Whether you had called out for someone in your final moments.

The guilt settled heavily in his chest, stealing what little air he had left. He imagined seeing you walk down the aisle, wearing your wedding gown. He imagined tearing up, and he can picture you giving a shy smile with tears also.

unfortunately, he'll never get to experience that.

Hold on to your ground Doesn't matter how 

Yunho's legs trembled uncontrollably, even as he remained seated. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers shaking as they found their way to his mouth. He had never been one to bite his nails, but now he couldn't stop.

Tears poured endlessly down his face, blurring his vision until the world became nothing more than distorted shapes and muffled sounds. Regret consumed him. He should have told you he loved you one more time.

He should have fought harder for the two of you. He should have taken back every hurtful word he'd ever spoken.

He regretted letting you go. Breaking up with you had already been the hardest decision of his life. Now, knowing there would never be another chance to fix it, the pain became unbearable. His chest tightened with every shallow breath until it felt impossible to breathe at all.

Someone was touching him, but his mind refused to process who it was, still trapped in the shock of losing you.

Only when he slowly lifted his tear filled eyes did he realize Mingi was standing in front of him. Without a word, Yunho surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around him as another sob finally escaped his chest.

They don't even care So then, why should you? 

Seonghwa held Hongjoong tightly, the two of them collapsing into one another as heartbreaking sobs echoed through the hallway.

His mind drifted back years in an instant.

Back to the day you were both trainees.

He could still picture you walking over to greet him with that bright smile, introducing yourself as though you had known each other forever. You had always carried so much warmth—so much life—that it was impossible not to be drawn to you.

Then came the day the company announced that all nine of you would debut together.

You had thrown your arms around him without hesitation, hugging him so tightly he had laughed, your excitement infectious as tears of happiness filled your eyes.

"We did it," you'd whispered.

He could almost feel that embrace now. Almost hear your laugh.

It hurt. God, it hurt. If only he could turn back time, he would. He would stay by your side. He would of never let fear or doubt come between you. He would never break up with you. He would hold you close and never let you walk away.

His eyes drifted to Hongjoong's left hand, settling on the silver/gold ring wrapped around his finger, the matching one he knew the two of you had picked out together.

A painful lump rose in Seonghwa's throat. That ring had once been a promise of forever. Now... It was all Hongjoong had left.

don't stop believing how you got here hold on to that feelin' gonna make it far enough

Hongjoong finally found the strength to move. It wasn't because he was ready. He never would be. Who could be ever ready to see their loves one dead.

His body moved on its own, numb and unsteady, following the sound of Yeosang's broken cries echoing down the hallway. Each step felt impossibly heavy, as though the hospital floor were trying to pull him back.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears. His breath caught the instant his eyes landed on you. The world around him faded into silence.

You looked... peaceful. As though you had simply drifted into a deep sleep. But the warmth that had always lit up your face was gone, replaced by a heartbreaking stillness. Your skin had lost its color, leaving you impossibly pale.

He hated it. how lifeless you looked. that you weren't smiling at him. that your chest no longer rose with quiet breaths. Most of all, he hated that this was the last time he would ever see you.

His knees nearly gave out as he stumbled forward, accidentally bumping into Yeosang's shoulder. Neither of them acknowledged it.

Yeosang remained where he was, both of his hands wrapped carefully around one of yours, desperately holding onto fingers that had already grown cold. Silent tears continued to fall onto the blanket as he gently rubbed circles across your knuckles, as if willing warmth back into them.

Hongjoong slowly lowered himself beside the bed. His trembling hand hovered just above your face. He was terrified to touch you. Afraid that the moment he felt how cold your skin had become, every last shred of denial he had left would disappear.

His fingers finally brushed against your cheek. Cold. So unbearably cold. A broken sound escaped his lips before he could stop it, his shoulders shaking violently as he cradled your face with both hands.

"Baby... I'm so sorry," he cried, his voice trembling so badly the words nearly fell apart before they reached you.

He leaned forward hesitantly, as though terrified that even this final act would somehow make everything more real. His lips met yours in one last kiss, firm, yet impossibly gentle.

They were cold. The absence of your warmth shattered whatever remained of his composure. A sob tore from his chest as he lingered there for a moment longer, unwilling to pull away, desperately pretending that if he stayed close enough, you might kiss him back.

When he finally lifted his head, tears fell freely onto your cheeks. The memory of that unbearable cold lingered on his lips, a feeling he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life.

even if the darkness stops you we can find the light wherever we go, we'll be together 

taglist: @soso59love-blog | @yeosionist | @bbokarismeow | @moonlitcelestial | @sunnysidesins | @fandom-freak-geek | @xh01bri | @lveegsoi | @puppyminnie | @tournesol155 | @xuchiya | @asesinas | @kyukyustar | @akreacja | @fran0407 | @flambychan | @sparda1234 | @elorabean | @hyxciinth1206 | @lizzstark | @addi-3 | @faeriehwa | @bangtan-sonyeondamn8 | @riri53 | @roryy95 | @zayn-210 | @pompomaa | @ayayaeyato | @life-is-a-game-of-thrones | @crimsonbubble | @hoeforatz | @spenceatiny18 | @1itatchi-lover | @brihaley213 | @awkward-fucking-thing | @brihaley213 | @strawberryshelbert | @sunnysidesins | @Whyiskpoptakingovermylife | @jiimtaee | @whimperwarriorjoong | @leewayout |

The booth felt smaller with every pause.

You stood behind the glass, headphones snug over your ears, mic perfectly positioned, everything should have been fine. You nailed the verse the first time. You knew you had. Your voice was steady, controlled, and emotional right where it needed to be.

And yet

“Let’s stop there,” Eden’s voice cut in through the headphones. “Again. Same line.”

Your jaw tightened.

You reset, took a breath, and sang it again. Cleaner. Sharper. You even leaned into the emotion a little more, letting it rasp just enough at the end.

Silence.

Then: click.

“Mm. One more time,” Eden said. “It’s good, but... less push. More restraint.”

Irritation curled low in your chest.

You did it again. And again. Each take blurred into the next, your throat starting to burn, frustration buzzing louder than the instrumental in your ears. You could feel the boys watching through the glass.

Hongjoong leaned forward in his chair, instinctively tightening his hold on your baby girl as she shifted on his lap, her tiny fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie. His eyes never left you through the glass, sharp, worried, far too familiar with the way you pushed yourself past your limits.

Yunho frowned beside him, arms crossed, jaw set like he was already replaying every late night and skipped break in his head. Wooyoung didn’t bother hiding it. He was half out of his seat, shoulders tense, like one wrong word would have him marching straight into the booth.

The track ended. Silence followed.

Eden clicked the talkback on, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Take the rest of the day off,” he said, irritation still threading his voice. “It’s clear you’re tired.”

You huffed, arms crossed as you waited until Eden finally disappeared down the hall. The moment the door shut, you stepped out of the booth, irritation still buzzing hot under your skin, shoulders tight like you were bracing for another argument.

But there wasn’t one waiting for you.

Hongjoong stood a few feet away, Arin tucked securely in his arm, her cheek pressed against his chest as she blinked sleepily around the room. He didn’t rush you. Didn’t speak right away. He just waited, patient, steady, like he always was when he knew you were holding yourself together by a thread.

“Let the boys and i handle Arin, okay?” he said softly. “Take the day to yourself, mama’s.”

The nickname alone nearly undid you.

Wooyoung, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, nodded in agreement. “We can handle our daughter,” he added firmly, like there was no debate to be had. “You’ve been doing everything. It’s our turn.”

Yunho stepped closer too, voice warm but resolute. “Go home. Sleep. Get some rest, we'll order you some food.”

Arin chose that moment to squirm, tiny hands reaching for you, a quiet whine leaving her throat. Hongjoong adjusted his hold easily, murmuring to her under his breath until she settled again, gaze never leaving you.

You swallowed hard, the anger finally slipping as guilt threatened to take its place. Reaching for Arin, you couldn’t help the small smile that broke through when she squealed, arms flailing in pure excitement, the second she was closer to you.

Hongjoong’s hand settled on your hip, grounding, familiar. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, lingering just long enough to make your shoulders drop, the fight draining out of you and leaving only exhaustion behind.

You exhaled shakily.

“but, Arin—”

Hongjoong smiled softly, forehead resting against your temple. “Baby,” he murmured, voice warm and sure, “think of it as an opportunity for us, her dads, to spoil her.”

Wooyoung snorted from behind him. “Severely. Unapologetically.”

Yunho nodded. “She’s already got a full schedule planned. Walks, naps, snacks, probably a toy she doesn’t need.”

Arin babbled happily, like she approved of every word, tiny hands grabbing at Hongjoong’s necklace when he took her back from you with practiced ease. She didn’t fuss, just settled right in, content and safe.

Hongjoong brushed his thumb over your knuckles before letting go. “Go home,” he said gently. “Sleep in the middle of the bed. Order food. Do something that isn’t for anyone else.”

Your chest tightened, emotion swelling where anger used to be.

“…Okay,” you whispered.

He smiled, soft, relieved and nudged you toward the door.

“We’ll see you later, mama’s.”

And as you walked away, tired but lighter, Arin’s laughter echoed behind you, proof that, just for today, it was safe to let yourself rest.

Arin was settled gently onto her play mat, her little hands immediately reaching for the unusually large number of toys scattered around her. She grabbed one, dropped it, then kicked excitedly as something else caught her eye, a happy babble filling the room.

All eyes stayed on her.

Hongjoong sat forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, already pulling his phone from his pocket. “We should hire a nanny,” he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, thumbs moving as he opened his messages to text his manager.

On the floor, Yeosang and Jongho were fully committed to the task at hand, wiggling toys in front of Arin like their lives depended on it.

“This one squeaks,” Jongho announced seriously.

Yeosang switched toys immediately. “Too loud. This one crinkles. Developmentally superior.”

Arin squealed, clearly delighted by both.

In the kitchen, Seonghwa leaned against the counter while Wooyoung hovered nearby, stealing glances toward the living room.

“She’s been running herself into the ground,” Seonghwa said quietly.

Wooyoung nodded, arms crossed. “Yeah. And she’ll say she’s fine even when she’s not.”

Mingi and Yunho sat on either side of Hongjoong, watching Arin with matching soft expressions.

“We don’t tell her yet,” Yunho said. “If she knows, she’ll overthink it.”

Mingi hummed. “So it’s a surprise. A good one.”

San moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, preparing Arin’s food, pausing just long enough to glance over his shoulder and smile when she let out another excited noise.

Hongjoong finally looked up from his phone, decision settled. “I’ll have my manager send options. Background-checked. Professional. We take our time.”

No one argued.

On the mat, Arin kicked her feet, surrounded by laughter, movement, and more love than she could ever understand, completely unaware that her dads were quietly planning something meant to make her mom’s world just a little lighter.

But no one expected the sudden busyness to hit all at once.

Hongjoong’s phone started ringing.

once.

twice.

Then, it didn’t stop. He frowned, glancing down at the screen before answering, his shoulders tensing as he listened. A quiet “Yeah… okay… we’ll be there” left his lips before he hung up.

He didn’t even have time to explain before it rang again.

And again.

“More lines,” he muttered after the third call, rubbing a hand over his face. “They want adjustments before the final mix.”

Mingi groaned softly. “Right now?”

“And wardrobe,” Hongjoong added, already standing. “Measurements. Today.”

The room that had been calm and domestic only minutes ago shifted into controlled chaos.

San paused mid prep, brows knitting. “They said today was clear.”

“They said tentatively,” Yunho corrected, already reaching for his jacket.

Wooyoung scoffed. “Of course they did.”

On the floor, Yeosang froze his toy wiggling when Arin let out a confused little sound, sensing the sudden change in energy. Jongho leaned in closer, keeping his voice playful as he shook the rattle again, grounding her despite everything.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured to her. “They’re just dramatic.”

Hongjoong glanced back at Arin, guilt flickering across his face as his phone buzzed again. He silenced it this time, jaw tight.

His eyes drifted toward the corner of the room and he couldn’t help the quiet sigh of relief that slipped past his lips.

Arin’s emergency bag sat by the door, already packed. Diapers are neatly stocked. Formula measured and sealed. Extra clothes folded with care, a tiny blanket tucked into the side pocket like an afterthought that still mattered.

Of course it was ready.

You never left anything to chance.

The knot in his chest loosened just a fraction. At least this, this, was one less thing to worry about.

Hongjoong carefully settled Arin into the playpen Mingi had just finished setting up, double checking the latch out of habit before straightening. The soft padding crinkled under her as she shifted, tiny hands gripping the mesh while she looked around, then her eyes found him.

Big. Curious. Trusting.

She tilted her head up at Hongjoong, dark orbs locked onto his face, and babbled softly, like she was trying to tell him something important.

His chest tightened.

“Hey,” he murmured, crouching despite the hurried footsteps echoing around them. He brushed his thumb over her knuckles through the mesh. “Daddy’s right here.”

Before he could linger, a stylist appeared at his side, already tugging lightly at his sleeve, irritation clear on their face. “Hongjoong, we’re late. Wardrobe now.”

He hesitated, just for a heartbeat, eyes flicking back to Arin.

She squealed again, completely unbothered, a tiny smile breaking across her face when he smiled back.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

The stylist didn’t wait. He was whisked away down the hall, footsteps pulling him farther from the corner of the dressing room.

No one could have prepared for the way the air shifted the moment you walked into the room.

At first, it was subtle.

Your eyes scan out of habit, a soft smile already forming as you expected to see Arin’s playpen tucked into a corner, one of the boys crouched beside it, making ridiculous noises.

But she wasn’t there.

Your steps slowed. The smile faded.

“Hey...” you started, glancing toward a cluster of staff moving equipment. “Sorry, um… where’s my daughter?”

The conversation around you stuttered.

Someone blinked. Another exchanged a look with the person beside them. No one answered right away, and that pause, barely a second, was enough to make your chest tighten.

“I mean Arin,” you clarified quickly, heat creeping up your neck. “The boys said they’d have her today while I rested.”

The guilt hit hard, sharp, and immediate. You shouldn’t even be asking. You were supposed to know. A good mother wouldn’t need to check. A good mother wouldn’t have left her baby behind while she slept.

You asked again, softer this time, the words tasting wrong on your tongue. Each time you did, the shame grew heavier, settling deep in your stomach as you caught the flickers of surprise, confusion, and what you thought was judgment in their eyes.

Your eyes kept moving, too fast, too frantic, scanning the room for any sign of a baby. A carrier. A playpen. Someone swaying gently the way people do when they’re holding a child.

Nothing.

Your breath grew shallow as your gaze shifted again, this time searching for the boys instead.

And then you saw him.

Jongho stood near the far wall, arms crossed, irritation written plainly across his face as he listened to a stylist talk at him. His jaw was tight, brows drawn together, frustration practically rolling off him.

Then his eyes lifted.

The moment he noticed you, everything changed.

The tension melted from his expression, shoulders loosening as concern immediately replaced the irritation. He excused himself without a word, already moving toward you.

“Hey,” he said gently when he reached you, voice low so no one else could hear. “What’s wrong?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out right away. Your throat felt too tight, panic still buzzing under your skin.

“I...I can’t find Arin,” you admitted quietly. “They said the boys had her, and I just...”

Jongho didn’t hesitate.

“She’s okay,” he said firmly, one hand coming to rest on your arm, grounding. “I promise. She was with Hongjoong earlier. Things got hectic and they moved her to a quieter room.”

Your shoulders sagged a little, relief mixing with the lingering guilt.

“I shouldn’t have left her,” you whispered, shame crawling up your spine. “I should’ve been here.”

Jongho opened his mouth, ready, eager, to argue, to shut that thought down immediately, but before he could get a word out, a staff member called his name. He hesitated, gave you an apologetic smile that promised I’ll be right back, and was gently but firmly pulled away.

Your chest tightened.

You swallowed hard, eyes darting through the room again, searching now for Yeosang. Anyone. Someone familiar. The noise felt louder, the space suddenly too big.

And then Seonghwa was there.

He stepped into your line of sight like he always did, calm, grounding, a quiet presence that immediately slowed your breathing just a fraction.

“Yn,” he said softly, concern etched into his features, “sweetheart… you’re supposed to be resting.”

Your finger rose to your lips without you realizing it, nails pressing lightly against your skin as your nerves gnawed at you. You shook your head, eyes already shining.

“Arin,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Hwa… where is she?”

Seonghwa’s expression shifted instantly.

The gentle smile faded, not into panic, but into focus. Protective. Serious.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hands came up to your shoulders, thumbs pressing lightly like he was anchoring you to the floor.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Breathe with me first, okay?”

Your chest hitched, but you nodded, forcing a shaky breath in and then out.

“She’s safe,” he said firmly, eyes never leaving yours. “I saw her not long ago. Hongjoong had her, and then staff moved her to a quieter room because things got crowded.”

Your shoulders sagged a fraction, but the worry didn’t fully leave.

“Where?” you asked, voice trembling despite yourself. “I just need to see her.”

Seonghwa didn’t hesitate.

“Okay,” he said gently. “Then we’ll go together.”

You barely had time to nod before a hand closed around Seonghwa’s wrist.

“Seonghwa, we need you now,” a stylist said sharply, already pulling him back toward the hallway.

“Hwa—” you gasped, fingers instinctively tightening in his sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, eyes full of regret as he was tugged away. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

But the words barely registered.

The room tilted.

Your chest tightened, breath catching as tears welled up faster than you could stop them. The noise around you blurred, voices overlapping into something unintelligible. All you could think was I can’t find her. I can’t find my baby.

The ache in your chest grew tighter, sharper panic clawing its way up your throat.

“Hey—hey, hey.”

San was suddenly there, like he’d sensed it before you even made a sound. His hands came up immediately, gentle but firm, steadying you before your knees could give.

“Yn,” he said softly, eyes searching your face. “What’s wrong?”

You tried to speak, but your voice broke. “A-Arin,” you managed, tears finally spilling over. “I can’t—no one’s telling me where she is.”

San’s jaw set instantly, not in anger, but in resolve.

“Okay,” he said, grounding, his voice low and calm despite the storm building behind his eyes. “You’re not alone. I’ve got you.”

He positioned himself fully in front of you now, one hand at your back, the other gently cupping your face to bring your gaze to his.

“Look at me,” he murmured. “Breathe. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. She’s okay. We’re going to find her, together.”

Your breathing stuttered, chest tight, but you followed him, one shaky inhale, then another. San’s hands closed around yours, fingers interlocking firmly, deliberately, like he was anchoring you to something solid.

“I’ve got you,” he said quietly.

He didn’t wait for permission.

San turned, gently but decisively leading you out of the room. The noise faded a little with each step, your focus narrowing to the warmth of his hand, the steady pace he set.

“San—” a stylist called, reaching out and grabbing his arm.

He stopped just long enough to look back, jaw set. He shrugged them off without raising his voice, without anger, just certainty. “Just five minutes,” he said. “All I need.”

The stylist hesitated, clearly annoyed, but something in San’s expression made them step back.

He guided you down the hallway, his thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles as if to remind you to keep breathing. “Talk to me,” he said softly. “Tell me what you saw. What you didn’t.”

“I—there was no playpen,” you whispered. “No stroller. Everyone just kept saying she was moved and I—” Your voice cracked. “I should’ve stayed.”

San stopped walking.

He turned fully toward you, hands coming up to frame your face. “Hey. No,” he said firmly, eyes locked onto yours. “You trusted us. That’s not a mistake. That’s family.”

He rested his forehead briefly against yours, grounding you before pulling back. “We’re close. I saw her earlier too. We’ll find her, and you’re going to hold her, and this panic is going to pass.”

He squeezed your hands once more. “One step at a time. Stay with me.”

And with that, he started forward again—calm on the outside, fiercely focused beneath it—guiding you closer to the answers you desperately needed, unaware that this frantic search was only the beginning of how fragile the day truly was.

San reached the door the staff had pointed out. He didn’t hesitate. He opened it.

The room was empty.

No playpen. No bag. No familiar blanket draped over a chair.

No staff.

The silence hit harder than noise ever could.

Your breath left you in a broken sound, your grip tightening painfully around San’s hand as your eyes darted wildly across the room, searching for anything. a bottle, a toy, proof that Arin had ever been here at all.

“Wait,” you whispered. “She-she was supposed to be—”

San stepped fully inside, his body subtly shifting in front of yours without you even realizing it. His eyes swept the room once. Twice. Fast. Sharp. Calculating.

“This isn’t right,” he said quietly.

Your chest began to cave in on itself, panic roaring back tenfold. “San,” you breathed, voice shaking, “where is my baby?”

He didn’t answer immediately, and that scared you more than anything.

The sound that tore out of you wasn’t human.

It was raw. Shattered. A mother’s scream ripped straight from her chest the moment the truth settled in heavy, undeniable, impossible to outrun.

Your legs gave out beneath you.

You collapsed to the floor, hands clawing uselessly at your chest as sobs wracked your body, loud and uncontrollable, echoing down the hallway and bleeding into every corner of the building.

“She’s gone.” you cried, voice breaking completely. “She’s gone!my baby!”

San dropped with you instantly, one arm locking around your shoulders, the other cradling the back of your head, holding you together as you came apart.

“Hey…hey, stay with me,” he pleaded, voice tight, panic cracking through the calm he’d been forcing. “Yn, look at me. Please look at me.”

But you couldn’t. All you could see was an empty room. All you could hear was silence where Arin’s babbles should have been.

The hallway erupted.

“Move! move!” “Excuse me, sorry—”

Hongjoong was the first to reach you, shoving past staff without hesitation, his face draining of color the second he saw you on the floor. He dropped to his knees so hard it hurt, hands shaking as he reached for you.

“What happened?” he demanded, fear raw and naked in his voice. “Where’s Arin?”

Behind him, Wooyoung looked feral, eyes wild as he scanned the area like he might tear the building apart brick by brick. Yunho was already barking into his phone, voice sharp, commanding. Seonghwa stood frozen for half a second then moved, positioning himself in front of you like a shield.

“She’s not there,” San said hoarsely, tightening his hold as you sobbed. “The room’s empty. No staff. No baby.”

Hongjoong’s breath hitched violently.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no….”

He gathered you into his arms without thinking, pulling you against his chest as your cries broke again, louder, more desperate.

“I should’ve stayed,” you choked. “I shouldn’t have rested. shouldn’t have trusted anyone,I—”

“Stop,” Hongjoong said, voice cracking as tears filled his own eyes. He held your face gently, desperately, forcing you to look at him. “This is not on you. Do you hear me? This is not on you.”

Wooyoung’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles had gone white. “Lock the building,” he snapped at no one in particular. “Now.”

Yunho nodded grimly. “Security’s on it. No one leaves.”

San kept one hand firm at your back, the other gripping Hongjoong’s shoulder like he was the only thing keeping himself standing.

“We will find her,” Seonghwa said quietly, voice steady but lethal beneath the calm. “Every second from now on is about Arin.”

Your sobs shook your entire body, grief and terror tearing through you as the boys closed ranks around you desperate, furious, united by the same horrifying truth.

Your daughter was missing.

You couldn't stop sobbing. Your entire body trembled with each shaky breath, guilt and fear twisting together until you could barely tell them apart. Every thought in your head was cruel.

You shouldn't have taken the rest the boys insisted on. You shouldn't have left Arin. You should have trusted your instincts and kept her right beside you. The thoughts repeated over and over, each one cutting deeper than the last.

Across from you, Hongjoong looked absolutely devastated. Not just him though, all of them did. The guilt on their faces was unmistakable.

They were Arin's fathers. The moment the schedules became chaotic, the moment stylists started pulling them in different directions, they should have done more. They should have made sure someone always had eyes on her.

What hurt the most was that they were only now realizing something you had been doing all along.

Even when you were drowning in schedules. When you were surrounded by staff, or when you were exhausted beyond belief. You always knew exactly where Arin was. Always.

"Honey..." San's voice was gentle, breaking through the storm in your head as he brushed a strand of hair away from your tear-stained face. "We'll find her, okay?"

You let out a broken hiccup and looked up at him.

The sight nearly shattered him. Your lips trembled uncontrollably as tears continued to stream down your face, your eyes swollen and red from crying.

Without a word, Jongho and Mingi rushed to grab tissues from a nearby desk. Wooyoung wasn't far behind, gathering anything he thought might bring you even a fraction of comfort; a blanket, a bottle of water, anything.

None of it felt like enough though.

"I should've trusted my gut," you cried, voice cracking. "I knew something felt wrong. I should've stayed with her."

The words barely left your mouth before Seonghwa was kneeling beside you.

"Baby," he said firmly.

The tone alone made you look at him. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, but there was nothing uncertain about the way he held your gaze.

"Don't you dare start blaming yourself. Do you hear me?"

You shook your head immediately, another sob escaping. "But—"

"No."

For once, Seonghwa didn't let you continue. His voice cracked, emotion finally bleeding through.

"No. You trusted us."

The room fell silent.

"You trusted her fathers." His jaw tightened as he fought to keep himself composed. "You trusted the people who love her more than anything in this world."

Hongjoong lowered his head, guilt written across every feature. Seonghwa swallowed hard before continuing.

"If anyone should be questioning what they could've done differently, it's us."

The words hung heavily in the room. For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Hongjoong moved. He dropped to his knees in front of you, uncaring of the security office, the people watching, the cameras still flickering across the walls. All he could focus on was you.

His trembling hand came up to your face. Using the sleeve of his sweater, he carefully wiped away the tears that refused to stop falling.

The gesture only made him break more. Because every tear he brushed away was replaced by another. His own vision blurred, a few tears slipped down his cheeks before he could stop them.

"Baby..." His voice cracked.

You looked up at him through watery eyes. The devastation on his face was almost as painful as the fear in your own chest.

"I am so sorry." The words came out broken, raw and honest.

Hongjoong shook his head, struggling to breathe around the guilt lodged in his throat. "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

Another tear slid down his face.

"I wanted to make sure you were resting."

His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping the tears still flowing down your cheek.

"You've been exhausted for months." His voice grew quieter.

"Taking care of Arin. Taking care of us. Working. Being everything for everyone."

His shoulders shook as a sob escaped him, choking on the words that left his lips next. "And I hated watching you run yourself into the ground."

The sight alone nearly shattered the rest of the boys. Mingi having to look away, hiding his face onto Yunho shoulder. Wooyoung trying his best to hold in his tears but failing as Jongho was just staring at his feet.

"I thought..." He swallowed hard. "I thought if we handled everything for one day, you could finally breathe."

His forehead pressed against yours. Instead of finding comfort, all he felt was crushing guilt. "I should've been watching her."

His voice dropped to a whisper. "I should've known where she was every second."

You immediately shook your head despite your tears. "Hongjoong-"

"No."

He closed his eyes, the word coming out shaky.

"If I hadn't insisted on it..." His voice cracked again. "You would've had her with you."

Around the room, the rest finally looked away, unable to watch without feeling their own guilt rise. Because they had all agreed. They had thought it was a good idea. They just wanted to give you a break, and now the outcome just felt unbearable.

Hongjoong took your hands in his, pressing them tightly against his chest as though he could somehow hold the pieces of both of you together.

"We're going to bring her home."

His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be, the determination behind it was enough. His tear-filled eyes met yours.

"We are going to find our daughter."

It wasn't a if, maybe, hopefully or when.

We are going to find her.

And despite the terror consuming him, despite the guilt threatening to drown him, that was the one thing Hongjoong refused to doubt. The certainty in his voice broke something inside of you. Because for the first time since this nightmare began, someone wasn't speaking in reassurances or possibilities.

He was making a promise. as Arin's father, your lover. And he fully intends to keep that promise. A sob escaped you.

Before you could think, before doubt or fear could stop you, you threw your arms around Hongjoong.

He caught you instantly. Like he always did.

His arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you into his chest as if he could shield you from everything happening around you. One hand cradled the back of your head while the other locked around your waist, holding you so tightly you could feel the tremble running through him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into your hair, tears slipping freely now. "I'm so sorry, baby."

You buried your face against his shoulder, fingers clutching desperately at the back of his sweater.

Yeosang gently pulled the blanket higher over your sleeping form, making sure it covered your shoulders. Your face was swollen from hours of crying, tear tracks still faintly visible against your skin even in sleep.

Seonghwa sat beside you, your head resting in his lap as his fingers slowly combed through your hair. The repetitive motion seemed to soothe him as much as it did you. Every now and then, his gaze would drift down to your sleeping face, his heart aching at how exhausted you looked.

Hongjoong had stepped out not long ago to speak with the police who had arrived.

The door creaked open, Yunho and Mingi walked in carrying bags of takeout, the smell of warm food immediately filling the security office. It should have been comforting. Instead, it only reminded them of how long it had been since any of them had eaten.

San followed shortly after, eyes red and swollen from a crying session he'd hidden away from the others. No one mentioned it. They all understood. Without a word, he began setting up a small makeshift table in the corner, unpacking containers and drinks with quiet efficiency.

Soon, everyone was eating or at least pretending to. Silence settled heavily over the room. The only sounds were the rustle of takeout containers and the soft hum of the monitors lining the walls.

Every few minutes, someone's eyes would drift toward your sleeping form. Making sure you were still resting. That you were still there.

Jongho finally let out a long sigh, setting his food down untouched. The movement immediately drew everyone's attention.

His jaw tightened. "We should go over what we all saw."

The room fell still. Jongho glanced around at each of them before continuing. "Like who saw Arin last."

"And which staff members were around her."

Silence lingered for a moment, heavy and suffocating, before someone finally broke it.

"The last time I saw Arin was when Mingi finished setting up the playpen," San said quietly, picking at his food rather than actually eating it. His eyes remained fixed on the container in front of him. "That was... almost two hours ago now."

The realization made the room feel even colder.

Mingi nodded slowly. "I kissed her on the head before I left," he murmured, his voice rough around the edges.

"Then I got dragged away for measurements." His jaw tightened.

"I thought one of you guys was staying with her."

Yeosang frowned immediately, confusion crossing his face. "That's what's weird."

Everyone looked at him. His brows pulled together as he tried to remember. "We were all supposed to have the day off."

The room went quiet again...Because he was right.

Wooyoung shook his head. "Not all of us." His fingers tightened around his drink.

"Yn, Yunho, Hongjoong, and I had a few lines scheduled today."

Yunho nodded. "I remember."

His stomach twisted as his thoughts drifted back to earlier that afternoon. You standing in the recording booth, the frustration written all over your face as take after take was stopped. Then Eden sending you home. The boys insisting you finally take a break. Everything after that felt like a blur. Yunho slowly set his chopsticks down.

"But that's it," he said. "Those sessions were already scheduled."

His gaze lifted toward the others. "The measurements weren't."

A tense silence immediately settled over the room. Mingi looked up, " then why was Hongjoong hyung getting called for a sudden wardrobe measurements."

Wooyoung expression darkening, as if suddenly something clicked in his mind. "Every time one of us got close to finishing something, they suddenly needed us somewhere else."

San's head snapped up. "You're saying someone created the schedule chaos?"

No one answered right away. Because the more they talked, the more impossible it became to ignore. The day hadn't felt busy. It had felt orchestrated. And suddenly, the interruptions, the rushed calls, and the irritated staff didn't feel like unfortunate timing anymore.

They felt deliberate.

A heavy silence settled over the room as everyone turned the pieces over in their minds, each new detail making the picture look worse.

"Now that you mention it..." Seonghwa began slowly, confusion and frustration written all over his face. His fingers paused in your hair.

"When Yn came in looking frantic, the staff seemed adamant about separating us from her."

Several heads immediately lifted. Seonghwa frowned as he replayed the memory.

"Every time one of us tried to help her, someone suddenly needed us somewhere else." His jaw tightened.

"They kept pulling us away."

Jongho nodded immediately. "So did San and I."

San let out a humorless laugh. "I practically had to shrug off a stylist just to get five minutes with her."

The memory still made his blood boil.

"She was crying. Panicking. Looking for Arin."

His voice cracked slightly at the last part.

"And they were acting like whatever they needed was more important."

Wooyoung's grip tightened around his drink.

"They basically dismissed her." The words came out sharper than intended. The room went quiet once again.

Jongho's expression darkened.

"It was so frustrating."

His gaze drifted toward your sleeping form.

"The way they kept brushing her off."

A muscle jumped in his jaw.

"She was clearly terrified."

San nodded. "And every time she asked where Arin was, they gave a different answer."

The realization made everyone sit up straighter. Hongjoong's empty chair suddenly felt far too noticeable. Because he would have caught that immediately.

Yunho frowned. "One person said Arin was with Hongjoong."

"Another said she was moved to a quieter room," Mingi added.

"And someone else said she'd been there earlier."

The room fell silent, nobody liked where this was going. Seonghwa's eyes narrowed.

"They weren't confused."

The words were quiet, dangerously quiet.

"They were stalling."

You woke slowly, a yawn escaping before you could stop it. Your body felt heavy, stiff from sleeping in the same position for hours.

For a brief, blissful second, everything felt normal. Your eyes fluttered open. You stretched. And instinctively, you opened your mouth.

"Can someone pass me Ari-"

The words died in your throat. The memory hit all at once. The panic, the crying. Your daughter was missing. The color drained from your face.

"Hi, baby."

San's voice was soft as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. You blinked back tears immediately.

"Where's everyone else?" you asked, wincing as a headache began pounding behind your eyes. San sat beside you.

"Hongjoong hyung is talking with the police right now." His voice remained calm. "The others left a little while ago."

You frowned. "Left?"

"They're starting a search party. Following up on anything they can."

He reached for your hand. "I wanted to stay with you."

The guilt hit you like a truck. You sat up immediately, a little too fast. The room spun.San was on his feet just as quickly.

"Baby—"

"No." You pushed yourself upright despite the dizziness.

"We should be out there." Your voice cracked.

"I should be out there looking for her."

The desperation in your voice made San's chest ache. Because he knew exactly what was happening. You were turning the blame inward. And he hated it more than anything.

"That's what the boys are doing, baby."

His hand found yours. "I promise."

But it wasn't enough. Fresh tears gathered in your eyes.

"What kind of mother am I if I'm not out there looking for my own child?"

The words shattered him. Immediately.

"Hey."

San stepped closer. His hands gently cupped your face.

"Don't."

His voice was firmer now. Not in anger. Just desperate for you to hear him.

"Don't do that to yourself."

Your lip trembled.

"She's out there and I'm sitting here sleeping—"

"Because your body literally gave out."

The words came out sharper than intended. San took a breath, his thumbs brushed away the tears already falling.

"You collapsed from exhaustion."

His own eyes began to shine.

"You cried until you couldn't stay awake anymore."

His voice cracked.

"Do you think Arin would want her mom making herself sick?"

Another sob escaped you. San pulled you against him immediately. His arms wrapped around you tightly.

"You know what kind of mother you are?"

He rested his cheek against the top of your head.

"The kind who knew something was wrong before anyone else."

You froze.

"The kind who walked into that building and immediately noticed she wasn't there."

His grip tightened.

"The kind who memorizes every bottle, every diaper, every nap schedule."

Tears streamed down your face.

"The kind of mother who loves her daughter so much that every person in this building knows her name."

San swallowed hard.

"You are the best mother I've ever seen."

The room fell silent.

"You don't have to prove how much you love her."

His voice broke completely.

"Because nobody in this room doubts it for a second."

Your hands clenched in the back of San's shirt, his words settling somewhere deep inside your chest.

Not enough to erase the fear or the ache. But enough to let you breathe for a moment.

You snuggled closer to him, allowing yourself to lean on someone else for once. San immediately tightened his arms around you, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"Thank you," you mumbled, your voice hoarse from hours of crying.

Eventually, San guided you from the where you were at. His hand never left yours. Not for a second, fear that he too would lose you.

The hallways felt different now. Crowded and tense. Staff members spoke in hushed voices. Security guards stood at every entrance. Police officers moved between rooms carrying folders, radios, and tablets.

Your eyes immediately began searching for one person: Hongjoong. Because if anyone had answers, even the smallest ones, it would be him. The closer you got to the crowd gathered near the conference room, the worse your nerves became.

Your heart hammered against your ribs. Your palms felt clammy. Your stomach twisted. Every terrible possibility tried to force its way into your mind.

San squeezed your hand once, trying his best to reassure you.

"Hongjoong hyung should be right around the corner, baby," he whispered into your ear.

You gave a quick nod. It was the best you could manage. Because suddenly you weren't sure if you wanted answers. The fear of getting bad news, you just werent to sure how you'll be able to handle it.

The crowd parted slightly as San guided you forward. Then you saw him. Hongjoong stood at the center of the room surrounded by police officers, security personnel, and your ceo.

He looked exhausted. His hair was a mess from running his hands through it countless times. His eyes were red rimmed, the tear stains on his cheek was noticeable. But the second he spotted you, everything else disappeared. The conversation stopped, the papers in his hand lowered.

And for a moment, he simply stared. Relief flashed across his face. That you were awake and not alone. Relief that he could finally see you.

"Baby."

The word left him instantly. He was already moving before anyone could stop him. Crossing the room in seconds. The moment he reached you, his hands found your face. So careful and gentle, causing you to melt into his touch.

"You should've stayed resting," he whispered, though there wasn't a single trace of annoyance in his voice.

Only concern and love. His thumbs brushed beneath your eyes. Searching your face, checking that you were okay.

Or as okay as anyone could be.

Your lips trembled. "What did they find?"

The question was barely audible.

Hongjoong's expression immediately shifted. The room behind him seemed to hold its breath. There was finally something to tell you.

Without saying a word, Hongjoong motioned for you and San to follow him. His hand found the small of your back, guiding you away from the cluster of officers, security staff, and managers.

Away from prying ears. Away from anyone who didn't need to hear this.

The corner he chose was quiet, tucked behind a row of filing cabinets and away from the constant hum of conversation. Your heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

Hongjoong looked over his shoulder once to make sure no one was listening before turning back to you. He reached for your hand immediately.

"The stylists set this up."

Your breath hitched.

"What?"

The word escaped as barely a whisper.

Hongjoong's jaw tightened.

"We don't know how many were involved yet," Hongjoong clarified quickly. "But the police finished interviewing several staff members."

San stiffened beside you.

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair, exhaustion and anger evident in every movement. For a moment, he looked away, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

"While you were resting, we were at the main dorm."

Your stomach twisted.

Hongjoong swallowed hard.

"Arin was playing with Yeosang and Jongho." A faint smile flickered across his face at the memory before disappearing just as quickly.

"She was laughing." His voice cracked slightly.

"Trying to grab one of Jongho's fingers while Yeosang kept shaking toys in front of her."

Your chest ached because you could picture it perfectly. Arin's giggles. Her chubby hands reaching for whoever had her attention. Completely unaware of what was coming.

"Then my phone started going off."

Hongjoong's jaw tightened.

"It was the lead stylist."

His eyes darkened.

"Said our comeback outfits needed to be remeasured."

San frowned immediately. "Which doesn't make sense."

"Exactly."

Hongjoong nodded.

"At the time, none of us questioned it."

Why would they? It was normal for them. The sudden schedules changes. Wardrobe needing to be slightly adjusted.

"So we went."

The guilt that flashed across his face was immediate.

"All of us."

The words hung heavily between you.

"Mingi set up the playpen and then it was just a blur."

His expression hardened.

"Different staff. Different requests."

The realization still made him sick. "They made sure we never stopped moving."

San's jaw clenched.

"They kept us distracted."

Hongjoong nodded once.

"That's what the police think."

Your heart hammered painfully against your ribs.

"And Arin?"

The question came out shaky. Hongjoong immediately squeezed your hand.

"The last confirmed sighting was when she was in the playpen."

Your breath caught.

"After that, everyone assumed someone else had her."

The room was suffocating. No windows. No cameras. Just four walls, a flickering overhead light, and the relentless sound of a baby crying herself hoarse.

Arin's tiny face was bright red, tears soaking her cheeks as she screamed. Her little hands opened and closed helplessly, searching for someone familiar.

Searching for her parents. The sound grated on everyone's nerves.

"You were supposed to make sure Yn saw the baby before we took her!" one of the girls snapped, pacing the room.

Another scoffed.

"Well, she wasn't there, now was she?"

The first girl's scowl deepened. The entire operation had been planned around one simple assumption: Yn would be there.

The moment she wasn't, everything started falling apart.

"Will she ever shut up?" the third girl groaned. "Holy fuck."

With a frustrated sigh, she bent down and picked Arin up. The baby immediately latched onto the front of her shirt, still sobbing.

"No, no, no..." she muttered awkwardly, bouncing her slightly. "Come on."

It didn't work. If anything, Arin cried harder. The sound echoed around the room.

"Mira," the first girl hissed, spinning toward her. "The plan was so fucking simple."

Her voice rose with every word.

"Have Yn see the baby."

She pointed toward Yuna.

"Then Yuna and I take her."

Another pointed finger.

"We would've been gone by now!"

Mira's face immediately flushed red.

"Oh, yeah?" she snapped. Her patience was long gone.

"Well whose fucking fault is it that she didn't show up?"

"Not mine!"

"You were supposed to keep track of her schedule!"

"And you were supposed to keep the fathers occupied!"

The argument exploded again.

"Okay, first of all," Liz snapped, adjusting Arin on her hip as the baby continued to cry, "you were the one who decided kidnapping a fucking baby was a good idea because you got jealous when Yn and Hongjoong announced her."

Yuna's face immediately flushed red.

Whether from embarrassment or anger, nobody could tell.

"That's not—"

"No?" Liz laughed harshly. "Then what is it?"

Arin let out another wail. The sound echoed around the cramped room. Liz bounced her gently, trying to soothe her despite herself.

Yuna looked away.

"She's a fucking whore," she spat. "And for all we know, Hongjoong might not even be Arin's dad."

The room went silent. Mira stared at her. Then rolled her eyes so hard it was almost impressive. "You're so fucking stupid."

"What did you just say?"

"I said you're stupid."

Mira threw her hands into the air. "Do you even hear yourself?"

Yuna shot to her feet.

"Excuse me?"

The sudden movement startled Arin, and another loud wail filled the room.

"Jesus Christ," Liz muttered, bouncing the baby slightly. "Can you two stop yelling for five seconds?"

Neither of them listened.

Yuna's face was flushed with anger.

"Don't act so fucking innocent either."

Mira's eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Yuna pointed between the two women.

"You want Mingi all to yourself, Mira."

Mira's expression immediately soured.

"And you want Yeosang, Liz."

Liz looked up sharply.

"Don't drag me into your bullshit."

Yuna laughed bitterly.

"No. Absolutely not."

Her voice rose.

"If I go down, so are you two."

The room fell silent.

Even Arin's cries seemed quieter for a moment.

Yuna let out a frustrated huff before stepping forward and taking Arin from Liz's arms. The baby immediately began fussing again, tiny fists bunching against the front of Yuna's shirt.

"We keep going with the fucking plan," Yuna snapped.

She adjusted Arin awkwardly on her hip.

"I'll handle Arin."

Mira's stomach immediately dropped.

"Yuna-"

"Keep the cops off us for an hour and I'll be right back."

The room went still. Liz and Mira exchanged a look before both turning back toward her.

"What are you doing?" Liz asked carefully.

Yuna didn't answer immediately. Instead, grabbing the diaper bag sitting near the door and slung it over her shoulder. The sight only made Mira and Liz even more nervous.

"What are you doing?" she repeated, more firmly this time.

A dangerous look crossed Yuna's face. "The original plan."

"The original plan fell apart hours ago."

"Not completely."

Mira took a step forward. "No."

Her voice was firm. "No, you're not leaving with her."

Yuna laughed. "And why not?"

"Because you're acting crazy."

The words slipped out before Mira could stop them. Yuna's expression darkened instantly. "Watch it."

"I'm serious."

Liz ripped the diaper bag from Yuna's shoulder, her patience finally snapping. A furious look crossed her face as she slammed it onto the nearby table. "I'm so fucking done."

The room went quiet. "Give me Arin back."

Yuna immediately took a step backward, clutching the baby tighter against her chest. "Fuck no."

"Yuna-"

"No." Her voice cracked with frustration. "I'm doing this with or without you two."

Mira's eyes widened. "Are you hearing yourself right now?"

Yuna ignored her. Instead, adjusting Arin on her hip and turned toward the door. Panic flashed across Liz's face. Yuna reached for the handle.

"Don't do this."

Mira moved first. She lunged forward, trying to take Arin before Yuna could leave. The reaction was immediate. Yuna shoved her away.

"Fuck off!"

Mira stumbled backward into a chair, nearly falling.

"The both of you!"

Arin let out another frightened cry at the sudden movement. The sound echoed through the room, mixing with the tension that had been building for hours.

"Stop!" Liz shouted.

That's when they heard it.

Bzzzt.

Every muscle in the room locked. The buzzing came from the table. From the diaper bag. All three women stared at it, their hearts sinking as the realization hit them simultaneously.

Liz moved first. Her breathing caught in her throat as she slowly approached the bag and pulled out a phone. The screen illuminated her face.

Mira and Yuna immediately leaned forward. Then both of them went pale.

"Are you serious?" Yuna cried. "You didn't check the phone?!"

"I thought you did!" Liz snapped back.

The screen continued glowing.

"Oh my god."

Mira grabbed at her hair. "Oh my god, we're so screwed."

Liz immediately dropped the phone back into the bag as if it had burned her. Without another word, she shoved past both women and lunged for the door.

"We need to go."

The second she yanked it open, she froze. Everything stopped.

Her breath left her lungs. A line of police officers stood in the hallway.

Weapons raised. Flashlights cutting through the darkness. Behind them, more officers filled the corridor.

"Police!" one officer shouted. "Don't move!"

You nearly dropped to the floor if it wasn't for Yeosang's quick reaction. His arms wrapped around you immediately, steadying you as your knees threatened to give out beneath you.

"Easy, baby," he whispered, though his own voice was shaking.

You clung to him for only a moment before pulling away, tears already streaming freely down your face. Relief. Just, pure, overwhelming relief.

Hongjoong found your hand instantly. His grip was tight. Like he needed the physical reminder that you were both still here. Without a word, he guided you toward the front entrance of the building. The moment the doors opened, noise erupted.

Police officers, detectives, reporters being held back behind barricades.

The camera flashes, and questions being shouted from every direction. You didn't hear any of it. You actually didn't care, even if it ruined your idol image.

Your eyes were searching for one thing. One person.The person holding your daughter.

Then you saw her. The tiny outfit you'd dressed Arin in that morning. The pale yellow one with the little embroidered flowers on the collar.

Your breath caught. Your heart felt like it stopped. Then started again all at once. "There—"

The word barely left your mouth before you were moving. A broken cry escaped your lips. The woman holding Arin turned at the sound. A gentle smile spread across her face. And then your daughter saw you.

"Oh my, Arin, honey."

Your voice shattered completely. You reached her in seconds. The second Arin was placed into your arms, the world disappeared. A babble immediately left her lips. Tiny hands grabbed at your shirt. Your daughter's face buried itself into your neck as if she never wanted to let go again.

A sob ripped through your chest.

"Oh, baby." You held her impossibly close. Kissing her forehead. Her cheeks.mThe top of her head. Anywhere you could reach.

"I'm here."

More tears fell. "I'm here, sweetheart."

Arin let out another babble before nuzzling further into your neck, little fingers clutching desperately at your jacket. The familiar weight of her in your arms nearly made you collapse all over again.

She was warm. She was safe. She was home.

Hongjoong finally reached you. The moment he saw Arin clinging to you, the composure he'd been forcing all day completely crumbled. A choked sound left him. His hand came up to cup the back of Arin's head.

"Daddy's here."

His voice broke. "Daddy's here, princess."

Arin immediately turned toward him at the sound of his voice. A happy squeal escaped her. A tiny hand reaching toward him.

That was all it took. Hongjoong started crying. The kind of crying that came from relief so overwhelming it hurt. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Oh my god." His shoulders shook.

Around you, the boys finally caught up. San covered his mouth. Seonghwa wiped furiously at his eyes. Mingi openly cried. Wooyoung was already reaching for Arin's little hand. Yeosang looked like he might collapse from relief. Jongho simply lowered his head, emotion finally catching up to him. Yunho had his hands covering his mouth as his shoulder shook.

Because after hours of fear and panic. Hours of imagining the worst.

Arin was back. Right where she belonged. Safe in your arms and you'll be damned if you were to let her out your sight ever again.

taglist: @soso59love-blog | @yeosionist | @bbokarismeow | @moonlitcelestial | @sunnysidesins | @hoeforalbedo | @majáaxx | @fandom-freak-geek | @Vix3e | @xh01bri | @lveegsoi | @puppyminnie | @tournesol155 | @xuchiya | @asesinas | @kyukyustar | @akreacja | @fran0407 | @flambychan | @sparda1234 | @elorabean | @hyxciinth1206 | @lizzstark | @addi-3 | @faeriehwa | @bangtan-sonyeondamn8 | @riri53 | @cromerstudios | @Lowkeni | @roryy95 | @zayn-210 | @pompomaa | @ayayaeyato | @life-is-a-game-of-thrones | @crimsonbubble | @hoeforatz | @spenceatiny18 | @1itatchi-lover | @Addi-3 | @brihaley213 | @awkward-fucking-thing | @Soulphoenix1618 | @brihaley213 | @strawberryshelbert