❤️1432❤️

Ateez

Stray Kids

Series 2026 2027

Other Groups / Individuals

Crossovers

Hongjoong

Hongjoong had brought you to a tiny restaurant he'd discovered while wandering through the city.

The food arrived, and after your first bite, he noticed something.

You had unconsciously leaned over your plate, one arm around it like you were guarding buried treasure.

He tilted his head.

"...Are you protecting it?"

You looked up innocently.

"Hm?"

"You're literally shielding your food."

You glanced down and immediately realized he was right.

"I don't know why I do that."

Hongjoong laughed.

"You look like someone is about to steal it."

"...Are they?"

"I'm sitting across from you."

"Exactly."

He couldn't stop laughing.

"Fine. I'll order another plate so you don't have to defend your kingdom."

Seonghwa

Seonghwa had spent the afternoon carefully baking pastries.

You took your first bite.

"...Yes."

You made the tiniest fist pump under the table.

He almost missed it.

"...Did you just celebrate?"

You froze.

"I... maybe."

"You fist-pumped."

"I get excited."

Seonghwa smiled so warmly it almost made you melt.

"That might be the sweetest compliment I've ever received."

He quietly decided he'd bake those pastries again next week.

Yunho

Yunho was halfway through telling a ridiculous story.

"...and then Wooyoung actually—"

He stopped.

You weren't listening.

Not because you were distracted.

Because you were completely focused on eating.

Your entire world had become the bowl of ramen in front of you.

"...Y/N?"

No answer.

He waved a hand.

Nothing.

Finally you looked up.

"What?"

"You disappeared."

"I was eating."

"I know!"

"You interrupted me."

Yunho burst into laughter.

"I got ignored for noodles!"

Yeosang

"I'm finished," you declared confidently.

Five seconds later...

"...One more bite."

Another five seconds.

"...Okay, now I'm finished."

Then...

"...Actually..."

Yeosang quietly counted.

"That was your seventh 'last bite.'"

You stared at your plate.

"It keeps calling me."

He covered his smile with his hand.

"I've never seen someone negotiate with dessert before."

San

San watched as you carefully scraped every last grain of rice and every drop of sauce together.

You refused to leave anything behind.

"You know," he said, "there's another serving."

"I know."

"...Then why are you scraping the plate?"

"Because it's still there."

He laughed so hard he had to set his chopsticks down.

"You'd survive any apocalypse."

"I simply respect delicious food."

"I respect your dedication."

Mingi

Mingi nervously handed you the burger he'd insisted you try.

You took a bite.

Then immediately looked at him with the biggest smile.

No words.

Just pure gratitude.

He blinked.

"...Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You found this place."

"...Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He immediately hid behind his drink.

"Don't say thank you like that."

"Like what?"

"You'll make me blush."

His ears were already bright red.

Wooyoung

"This chicken..."

You took another bite.

"This chicken."

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow.

You pointed dramatically at the plate.

"This chicken!"

He burst into laughter.

"You keep saying its name!"

"It deserves recognition!"

"You sound like you're giving an acceptance speech."

You nodded solemnly.

"Best Supporting Chicken."

Wooyoung nearly fell out of his chair laughing.

Jongho

Jongho quietly watched you enjoy your dessert.

Something seemed...

Off.

No.

Cute.

You were gently rocking back and forth while chewing, completely unaware you were doing it.

He smiled.

"...You're rocking."

"I am?"

"You've been doing it for the last minute."

You stopped immediately.

"I didn't notice."

"You look really happy."

"I am."

He chuckled softly.

"I'll remember this dessert."

"Because it's good?"

"No."

He smiled at you.

Bangchan

Chan had spent nearly an hour cooking for everyone, nervously pretending he wasn’t waiting for your opinion.

You took one bite.

Then your shoulders started wiggling.

Not a full dance—just a tiny, uncontrollable happy shimmy in your chair.

Chan froze.

“Wait… you’re doing a little dance.”

You immediately covered your face. “I’m not!”

“You are!” he laughed, pointing at you. “You’re literally vibrating!”

The more embarrassed you got, the harder he laughed until he was wheezing.

“So it’s good?” he asked hopefully.

You nodded while still wiggling.

Chan smiled so softly it hurt. “Best review I’ve ever gotten.”

Minho

Minho watched people carefully. He noticed things others missed.

When you tasted the dessert he brought home, your eyes slowly fluttered shut.

You didn’t say a word.

You just sat there, completely still, savoring it.

He raised an eyebrow.

“…That good?”

You opened your eyes and whispered, “I needed a moment.”

“A moment?”

“A spiritual one.”

He stared for two seconds before letting out the smallest laugh.

“I’ll buy it again.”

Changbin

Changbin proudly handed you the food he’d been talking about all day.

You took a bite.

“Mmmmmmmmm.”

The hum was long. Way too long.

Changbin’s eyes widened. “WAIT.”

You kept humming.

“Was that the food review?”

You nodded enthusiastically.

He slapped the table dramatically. “YES! That’s what I’m talking about!”

For the rest of the day he randomly imitated your hum every time someone mentioned food.

Hyunjin

You were sitting on the kitchen counter while eating a pastry.

Hyunjin noticed your feet gently swinging back and forth.

Not because you were nervous.

Because you were happy.

“You look like a child who just got their favorite snack,” he said fondly.

“My feet do that automatically.”

“They’re still doing it.”

You looked down and realized they were.

Hyunjin smiled with that soft, lovestruck expression he tried to hide.

“Don’t stop.”

Jisung

Jisung was mid-story when he noticed you weren’t listening anymore.

You were smiling.

Not at him.

At the food.

“…Excuse me?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“You looked at that tteokbokki like it proposed to you.”

“It’s just really good.”

“You smiled at it!”

He clutched his chest dramatically.

“I can’t compete with rice cakes.”

Felix

Felix handed you a freshly baked cookie.

You took one bite and immediately covered your mouth with both hands.

“Oh my gosh.”

Your eyes went wide.

Felix’s face lit up instantly.

“Is it okay?”

“Okay? Felix, this is illegal.”

He laughed so hard he almost dropped the baking tray.

“You always do that,” he said. “You cover your mouth when you’re shocked by good food.”

“Because I need to contain the emotions!”

“That’s the cutest explanation I’ve ever heard.”

Seungmin

Seungmin noticed something strange.

You were eating your favorite cake.

Very slowly.

Suspiciously slowly.

“Why are you taking bites that small?”

“I’m making it last.”

“That slice has been alive for twenty minutes.”

“I’m emotionally attached.”

He sighed dramatically.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“I’ll buy you another slice.”

You looked up so quickly he almost laughed.

“…You’re impossible.”

Jeongin

Jeongin watched you take the first bite of the snack he recommended.

You chewed thoughtfully.

Then gave a tiny, serious nod to yourself.

He blinked.

“Did you just approve it?”

You nodded again.

“Yes. Good choice.”

“You nodded like a food critic!”

“I was confirming your recommendation.”

He burst into laughter.

“So… I passed the test?”

You gave one final satisfied nod.

“Excellent work.”

Jeongin grinned from ear to ear.

Part 20

You woke up in Tokyo with the strange awareness that Seonghwa was somewhere in the same building.

It shouldn't have mattered.

You had shared hotels with him before.

You had spent years waking up beside him.

You had slept in the same room while he travelled for work.

But that had been before.

Now, the knowledge sat somewhere beneath your ribs.

You looked at the ceiling.

Then at your phone.

There was a message.

Seonghwa:

Good morning.

You smiled.

You:

Good morning.

A few seconds later:

Seonghwa:

Did you sleep well?

You stared at the screen.

Then:

Yes.

His reply:

Good.

You waited.

Nothing else.

You smiled despite yourself.

Are you going to ask what I ate now?

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

Have you eaten?

You laughed.

The concert that evening was different from the first.

You had planned to attend from the audience.

You had even bought a ticket.

Seonghwa had insisted that you didn't need to sit backstage again.

You had agreed.

You had been looking forward to experiencing it as a normal person.

Then, two hours before the concert, someone from the staff came to your hotel room.

"Yura?"

You opened the door.

"Yes?"

"Seonghwa asked me to bring you this."

They handed you a pass.

You looked down.

BACKSTAGE ACCESS

You stared at it.

Then at the staff member.

"He asked?"

"Yes."

You looked at the pass again.

"Why?"

The staff member smiled.

"I don't know. He just said you should have one."

You thanked them.

Then closed the door.

You stared at the pass for a long time.

It was a piece of laminated plastic.

That was all.

You were being ridiculous.

You placed it on the table.

Then picked it up again.

You went backstage.

Of course you did.

You were weak.

You had always been weak when it came to him.

The venue was already alive.

Staff moved around you.

Members came and went.

Someone hugged you when they saw you.

Someone else asked whether you had eaten.

You pointed at them.

"Don't."

They laughed.

"Seonghwa's influence."

You shook your head.

"I blame all of you."

You watched soundcheck from the side of the stage.

Seonghwa was already there.

He saw you almost immediately.

His eyes flicked to the pass around your neck.

Then to your face.

You raised your eyebrows.

He smiled.

You mouthed:

Really?

He shrugged.

Then turned back toward the stage.

You laughed quietly.

The concert began.

This time, you stood further back.

You wanted to watch him properly.

Not as someone who had once known every part of him.

Not as someone who had spent years wondering if she still had a place in his life.

Just as Yura.

A person watching someone she loved do something he had worked incredibly hard to achieve.

The lights went down.

The crowd screamed.

The members appeared.

And Seonghwa became someone larger than the man who had sat across from you in a café.

He was powerful.

Elegant.

Funny.

Bright.

You watched him perform.

And you realized that you had missed this.

Not just him.

This.

The feeling of watching him become completely himself in front of thousands of people.

During one of the talking segments, the members began teasing each other.

You watched from the side.

Seonghwa laughed.

A real laugh.

His head tilted back.

His eyes crinkled.

You remembered that laugh.

You had missed it.

The thought came quietly.

Without pain.

I missed you.

You didn't push it away.

You let yourself feel it.

For once, you didn't try to be reasonable.

You didn't tell yourself that missing him was dangerous.

You didn't tell yourself that you had to do something about it.

You simply missed him.

And it was okay.

After the concert, you returned backstage.

The room was chaos.

Everyone was tired.

Someone was lying on the floor.

Someone else was eating.

A staff member was trying to organize things.

You stood near the wall.

Then Seonghwa walked in.

His hair was damp.

His face was flushed from the performance.

He was still wearing his stage clothes.

He saw you.

His entire expression softened.

"You came."

You smiled.

"You invited me."

"I know."

"You keep saying that."

"Because I like hearing it."

You stopped.

He looked away.

You smiled.

"You were good."

He looked at you.

"Just good?"

You considered.

"Very good."

"Better."

"Don't get arrogant."

"Too late."

You laughed.

He stood beside you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then:

"Did you enjoy it?"

You nodded.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really."

He looked relieved.

You noticed.

"Why do you keep asking?"

He looked at you.

"I don't know."

You smiled.

"Yes, you do."

He looked away.

You waited.

Eventually, he said:

"I wanted you to see me."

The words were quiet.

You stared at him.

"I did."

"No."

He looked at you.

"I mean... I wanted you to see me now."

Your chest tightened.

You understood.

He wasn't the same person you had left.

And neither were you.

You smiled.

"I do."

The room around you continued moving.

People talked.

Laughed.

Packed bags.

But for a moment, it felt like there was only the two of you.

"I know you saw me before," he said.

"Yes."

"You knew me."

"Yes."

"But I wanted you to see who I am now."

You looked at him.

"Why?"

He looked down.

"I don't know."

You smiled faintly.

"You're using that answer a lot."

He laughed.

"Maybe I don't know."

"Maybe."

He looked at you.

"Maybe I wanted to know if you'd still be proud of me."

You stared at him.

Your heart ached.

"Seonghwa."

He immediately shook his head.

"I know. It's stupid."

"No."

You reached for his arm.

The touch was small.

Barely anything.

But he went still.

"You should know that I will always be proud of you."

He looked at you.

"Always?"

You thought about the word.

"Yes."

His expression changed.

You continued.

"Even when we weren't together."

He looked away.

You could see the emotion in his face.

"I was proud of you too."

You swallowed.

"I know."

"No."

He looked back at you.

"I don't think you do."

You went quiet.

He continued.

"I watched you build your life."

You listened.

"I watched you move to Amsterdam."

Your throat tightened.

"I watched your blog grow."

You looked down.

"I watched you win awards."

Your chest hurt.

"I watched people talk about you."

He smiled faintly.

"And I was proud."

You looked at him.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

His smile faded.

"Because I didn't think I was allowed to."

You stared.

"Why?"

"Because I was the person you left."

The answer hit you harder than it should have.

You looked away.

He continued.

"I thought being proud of you from far away was all I was allowed to do."

You closed your eyes.

You had spent three years believing he had stopped caring.

He had spent three years believing he had no right to show that he still did.

"You're an idiot," you whispered.

He laughed softly.

"Yes."

You looked at him.

"I was proud of you too."

He nodded.

"I know."

"No, you don't."

You smiled sadly.

"I watched everything."

His eyes lifted.

"Everything?"

"Not everything."

"Yura."

"Fine."

You sighed.

"I watched the performances."

He smiled.

"The interviews."

His smile grew.

"The award shows."

He looked down.

"The clips people sent me."

"You still have friends who send you things?"

"Unfortunately."

He laughed.

You continued.

"I watched you grow."

His expression softened.

"And I was proud."

He looked at you for a long moment.

"Thank you."

You smiled.

"You're welcome."

Later, after everyone had left, you found yourself alone with him again.

The venue was almost empty.

The noise had disappeared.

The stage lights were dimmed.

You stood beside the stage.

He was still wearing his in-ear monitors.

You reached toward him.

"Here."

He looked at you.

"What?"

"Your earpiece."

"Oh."

He handed it to you.

You carefully removed it.

The gesture was familiar.

You had done it hundreds of times.

He watched you.

You realized what you were doing.

You stopped.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"I just—"

"You used to do that."

You nodded.

"I know."

"You can still do it."

You looked at him.

He was standing very close.

The distance between you had disappeared without either of you noticing.

His voice was quiet.

"You don't have to ask permission for everything."

Your heart began beating faster.

"Maybe I do."

"Why?"

"Because we're not together."

His expression changed.

"I know."

You looked away.

He gently reached for your wrist.

You went still.

"Yura."

You looked back at him.

"I know we're not together."

His thumb rested lightly against your skin.

"And I'm not asking you to pretend that we are."

You swallowed.

"Then what are you asking?"

He looked at you.

"I don't know."

You laughed softly.

"Again."

He smiled.

"Again."

Neither of you moved.

Then he let go.

Slowly.

You left the venue together.

Outside, Tokyo was still awake.

The city was bright.

The streets were busy.

You walked beside him.

You were tired.

He was tired.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

Then you said:

"I missed this."

He looked at you.

"What?"

"Watching you perform."

He smiled.

"I missed you watching me."

You stopped walking.

He stopped too.

The words were out.

He looked slightly embarrassed.

You stared at him.

Then smiled.

"I missed watching you."

His expression softened.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You took a breath.

"I missed you."

There it was.

No joke.

No explanation.

No qualification.

You missed him.

Seonghwa looked at you.

For a second, he said nothing.

Then he smiled.

"I missed you too."

You stood there beneath the Tokyo lights.

Two people who had spent three years avoiding the truth.

Finally saying it.

Not because either of you was asking the other to change.

Not because either of you was demanding anything.

Just because it was true.

You continued walking.

This time, his hand brushed yours.

Once.

Then again.

You looked down.

He looked at you.

Neither of you said anything.

Then you reached for his hand.

His fingers closed around yours.

Not tightly.

Not possessively.

Just enough.

You walked like that for the rest of the way to the hotel.

When you reached your room, you stopped.

Neither of you let go immediately.

"Goodnight," you said.

"Goodnight."

You finally released his hand.

You opened your door.

Before going inside, you looked back.

He was still standing there.

You smiled.

Then closed the door.

On the other side, Seonghwa stood in the hallway for several seconds.

You were not his girlfriend.

You were not back together.

Nothing had been promised.

And yet, for the first time in years, he had held your hand.

And you had held his back.

Maybe that was enough for tonight.

Part 19

The invitation came three days later.

You were sitting in a café, editing footage from Gyeongju, when your phone rang.

It was Seonghwa.

You stared at his name for a moment before answering.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"You sound nervous."

"I'm not."

"You are."

There was a pause.

"Okay."

You smiled.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong."

"That's not reassuring."

He laughed quietly.

"I wanted to ask you something."

You leaned back in your chair.

"Okay."

"Are you busy next month?"

You opened your calendar.

"Why?"

"Just answer the question."

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On why you're asking."

Another pause.

You smiled.

"Seonghwa."

"I know."

"You're being suspicious."

"I'm not."

"You are."

He sighed.

"Can you come to Tokyo?"

You stopped editing.

For a moment, you said nothing.

"Tokyo?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"We have a concert."

"I know."

"I know you know."

You stared at the screen in front of you.

"Are you asking me to come to your concert?"

"Yes."

The answer was quiet.

You leaned back.

"Why?"

Another pause.

Then:

"Because I want you there."

Your heart gave one hard beat.

You said nothing.

Seonghwa immediately continued.

"Not as—"

He stopped.

You could almost hear him thinking.

"Not as anything."

You smiled faintly.

"That's a very romantic way to phrase it."

"I panicked."

"I noticed."

"I mean it."

You stopped smiling.

He continued.

"You don't have to come."

"I know."

"And I don't want you to feel like you have to."

"I know."

"You can say no."

"I know."

"Yura."

You laughed softly.

"You've said that three times."

"Because I need you to understand."

"I do."

You looked out of the café window.

Tokyo.

You had been there dozens of times.

It was one of the cities you knew well.

You had written about it.

Filmed it.

Walked its quiet streets in the early morning.

You had also never been there with Seonghwa.

Not together.

Not after the breakup.

The thought made something inside you ache.

"How long?"

"What?"

"The trip."

"Three days."

You looked at your calendar again.

You had work.

You always had work.

But you could move things.

You could make time.

You could choose.

"Okay."

He went quiet.

"Okay?"

"I'll come."

His breath left him.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Seonghwa."

"Sorry."

You smiled.

"Yes. I'm sure."

The call ended shortly after.

You stared at your phone.

Then opened your calendar.

You moved one meeting.

Rescheduled another.

Your assistant asked why.

You said it was personal.

That was true.

It was also none of her business.

You booked your flight.

Then stared at the confirmation.

SEOUL → TOKYO

You had taken that flight before.

Hundreds of times.

But this one felt different.

You were not travelling because you were running from something.

You were not travelling because you were trying not to miss someone.

You were travelling because someone had asked you to come.

And you had wanted to.

You didn't tell your followers.

You didn't post about the trip.

You didn't mention who you were going to see.

You simply packed.

Three days.

One carry-on.

You were still a travel blogger.

You had standards.

At the airport, Seonghwa sent you a message.

Seonghwa:

Did you get there?

You:

I'm at the airport.

Seonghwa:

I know.

You stared at the message.

You:

How?

Seonghwa:

You posted a story.

You looked at your Instagram.

You had posted a photo of your coffee.

You hadn't even thought about it.

You:

You're watching my stories?

There was a pause.

Seonghwa:

Sometimes.

You smiled.

You:

Liar.

His reply came quickly.

Okay. Always.

You stared at the screen.

Then put your phone away.

You were smiling when you boarded the plane.

Tokyo was bright.

Busy.

Familiar.

You had missed it.

You arrived before the group.

Seonghwa had told you that his schedule would be busy.

That you could do your own thing.

That you didn't have to wait around for him.

You had laughed.

"Don't worry. I know how to travel alone."

"I know."

"I have a blog."

"I know."

"You've read it."

"Yes."

"You're very annoying."

"I know."

You spent the first day alone.

You visited a small café in Yanaka.

Walked through quiet side streets.

Stopped at a stationery shop.

Took photographs.

You filmed a short segment for your blog.

Your followers would eventually see it.

They would never know that you had paused halfway through filming because Seonghwa had sent you a message.

Seonghwa:

What are you doing?

You sent him a photograph.

You:

Working.

His response:

That looks like a lot of work.

You smiled.

It's very difficult.

I can tell.

How is your schedule?

Long.

Did you eat?

Yes.

What?

You stared at the screen.

Then laughed.

You sound like someone I used to know.

There was a long pause.

Maybe I learned from him.

Your chest tightened.

You didn't answer immediately.

Then:

Maybe.

The concert was the next evening.

You had been to concerts before.

You had seen him perform countless times.

You had watched from backstage.

From the audience.

From screens.

But this was different.

You were not his girlfriend.

You were not a member of staff.

You were not part of his professional life.

You were simply there because he had asked.

You stood backstage during soundcheck.

The venue was mostly empty.

The stage lights were on.

Seonghwa was standing with the others.

You watched from the side.

He hadn't noticed you yet.

You smiled.

Then someone beside you spoke.

"Yura?"

You turned.

One of the members had seen you.

His face immediately lit up.

"You're here!"

You laughed.

"Hi."

The rest of them turned.

For a moment, everyone was quiet.

Then the room exploded.

"YURA?"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US?"

"YOU CAME TO TOKYO?"

You laughed as everyone came toward you.

The years didn't erase them.

You had stayed in contact with some.

Less with others.

But the warmth was still there.

One of them hugged you.

Another immediately started asking about Amsterdam.

Someone else wanted to know if you had been travelling recently.

You answered all at once.

Seonghwa stood a little further away.

Watching.

Smiling.

You looked at him.

His eyes met yours.

For a second, the noise disappeared.

Then someone shouted:

"Seonghwa, did you invite her?"

He froze.

You looked at him.

The others looked at him.

He cleared his throat.

"Yes."

The reaction was immediate.

You laughed.

"Why are you all acting like this?"

"Because you never come to our concerts anymore!"

"Because she lives in Europe!"

"Because you invited her!"

"Why is that surprising?"

Someone looked at Seonghwa.

"Because you never invite anyone."

Seonghwa's ears turned pink.

You stared at him.

He looked away.

You smiled.

You watched the concert from the side of the stage.

The first song began.

The lights went down.

The crowd screamed.

Seonghwa transformed.

You had seen it before.

But not like this.

Not after three years.

He was older.

More confident.

More powerful.

There was something different in the way he carried himself.

You watched him move across the stage.

Watched him smile.

Watched him laugh with the members.

You felt proud.

The feeling surprised you.

You had always been proud of him.

But now there was no relationship attached to it.

No obligation.

No expectation.

You were simply proud.

And that felt strangely freeing.

During one of the songs, his eyes found you.

You knew he could not see you clearly.

The stage lights were too bright.

The audience was too dark.

But he looked directly toward the side of the stage.

You smiled.

He smiled back.

Then continued performing.

Your chest hurt.

Not painfully.

Not like before.

Just enough to remind you that you were still human.

After the concert, you waited backstage.

The members came in one by one.

Everyone was exhausted.

The room was loud.

Chaotic.

Familiar.

You sat on a sofa while someone complained about their shoes.

Someone else asked if you had eaten.

You laughed.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

One of them looked at you.

"Because Seonghwa does."

You froze.

Across the room, Seonghwa stopped moving.

Everyone looked at him.

He stared at the floor.

You smiled slowly.

"Oh."

Someone laughed.

"He's been asking you?"

"Yes."

The room erupted.

Seonghwa covered his face.

You laughed so hard you nearly fell off the sofa.

"Leave me alone!"

"Hyung, you're obvious!"

"Very obvious!"

"You ask her what she ate every day?"

"That's not true!"

You looked at him.

"Is it not?"

He looked betrayed.

"You don't have to participate!"

"I absolutely do."

The room became louder.

And for the first time, you saw something you had missed.

Seonghwa was embarrassed.

But happy.

Later, when everyone had left, you and Seonghwa stood outside the venue.

The city was quiet.

The night air was cool.

"You survived."

"Barely."

You laughed.

"They were very happy to see you."

"I was happy to see them."

He nodded.

You looked at him.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For inviting me."

He looked away.

"You came."

"I wanted to."

His eyes moved back to you.

You smiled.

"I told you."

He nodded.

"I know."

You stood beside him.

The silence was comfortable.

Then he asked:

"Did it feel strange?"

"What?"

"Being here."

You thought.

"Yes."

He nodded.

"Good strange or bad strange?"

You smiled.

"Good."

He looked relieved.

You noticed.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why were you worried?"

He thought about it.

"I didn't know if you'd feel like you were intruding."

You stared at him.

"Seonghwa."

"I know."

"I'm here because you invited me."

"I know."

"I wanted to come."

"I know."

You smiled.

"Then stop worrying."

He looked at you.

"You're asking me to stop worrying?"

"Yes."

He laughed.

"That's a lot to ask."

You began walking.

The hotel was nearby.

You could have taken a car.

Neither of you did.

"You know," you said, "this is the first time we've travelled somewhere together since—"

You stopped.

He finished for you.

"Since us."

You nodded.

"Yeah."

"Does it feel like we're travelling together?"

You thought about it.

"No."

He looked at you.

"Why not?"

"Because you're working."

He smiled.

"And you're working."

"Exactly."

"So we're both working."

"Yes."

"That sounds like travelling together."

You shook your head.

"No. It's different."

"How?"

You looked at him.

"We're not trying to make the other person fit into the trip."

He went quiet.

You continued.

"We're just both here."

He smiled faintly.

"That sounds better."

"It is."

At the hotel, you stopped outside your room.

His room was further down the hallway.

You looked at him.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Neither of you moved.

You both looked at each other.

You could feel the moment waiting.

The possibility of something.

A kiss.

A touch.

A step closer.

But neither of you took it.

Not yet.

Seonghwa smiled.

"Sleep well."

"You too."

You opened your door.

Then turned back.

"Seonghwa?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you asked."

His expression softened.

"Me too."

You went inside.

He walked to his room.

And for the first time in years, you both went to sleep in the same city.

Not together.

Not yet.

But no longer apart.

The first time you went viral, you weren’t even trying to.

That was the problem.

You had never been trying to become part of the public image of SEVENTEEN.

You had never wanted to be recognized.

You had never wanted fans to know what you looked like, what you sounded like, what your personality was like, or—most importantly—how often you yelled at your boyfriend.

You were perfectly happy being Choi Seungcheol’s girlfriend in private.

You were perfectly happy living your life, working your job, seeing your friends, going home to the apartment you shared with him, and occasionally having to remind your extremely famous boyfriend that just because he was the leader of SEVENTEEN did not mean he was allowed to eat your snacks.

That last part was what ruined everything.

It started with a behind-the-scenes video.

You weren't even supposed to be in it.

Seungcheol had been at home, filming something for the group's behind-the-scenes content. You were in the kitchen, wearing one of his oversized hoodies, hair tied up messily, completely unaware that a camera was recording.

You had been looking for your chocolate-covered pretzels.

You knew you had bought them.

You knew you had put them in the cupboard.

You knew you had specifically told Seungcheol not to eat them.

And then you opened the cupboard.

They were gone.

You stood there for several seconds.

Then you slowly turned around.

Seungcheol was sitting on the couch.

Eating the last one.

You stared at him.

He froze.

The camera kept filming.

“Choi Seungcheol.”

The entire room went silent.

Seungcheol slowly lowered the pretzel.

“...Yes?”

“Did you eat my snacks?”

He looked at the camera.

Then at you.

Then back at the camera.

“No?"

You stared at him.

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“I'm telling you?”

“Seungcheol.”

“Okay, yes.”

“You ate my snacks.”

“I was hungry.”

“You had dinner.”

“That was three hours ago.”

“You ate my snacks.”

“I can buy you more.”

“They were the last ones in the store.”

“I can order them online.”

“They don't taste the same.”

“I'm sorry.”

You stared at him.

Seungcheol stared back.

The camera continued filming.

Then you pointed at the empty packet in his hand.

“You're buying me two bags.”

“Okay.”

“Three.”

“Okay.”

“And you're not eating them.”

“Okay.”

“And if I find out you've touched them—”

“Okay.”

“—I'm changing the Wi-Fi password.”

Seungcheol's eyes widened.

“You wouldn't.”

You smiled.

“Try me.”

The video cut there.

You didn't know any of this had happened until two days later.

You were sitting at home, wearing Seungcheol's hoodie and eating the replacement snacks he had bought you, when he walked into the room with the expression of a man who had just seen something deeply unfortunate.

You looked up.

“What?”

He said nothing.

You narrowed your eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Have you been online today?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Why?”

“Nothing.”

“Choi Seungcheol.”

He sighed.

Then he turned his phone around.

You stared at the screen.

The video had been uploaded.

And the comments were moving faster than you could read them.

WHO IS SHE?

THE WAY HE IMMEDIATELY SAID OKAY 😭

“CHOI SEUNGCHEOL” OH SHE KNOWS HOW TO USE THE FULL NAME

THE WI-FI PASSWORD THREAT????

SHE'S SO CASUAL????

WHY DOES HE LOOK SO SCARED

I NEED TO KNOW WHO THIS WOMAN IS

You stared.

Then slowly looked up at Seungcheol.

“...Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You're sorry?”

“I didn't know they were filming.”

“You threatened my Wi-Fi password in front of millions of people.”

“You ate my snacks.”

Seungcheol paused.

“That's not the point.”

“It is absolutely the point.”

He rubbed his face.

You looked back at the screen.

One comment caught your attention.

I BET SHE'S THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN ACTUALLY CONTROL HIM.

You turned toward Seungcheol.

“Am I?”

“No.”

You raised an eyebrow.

He immediately sighed.

“Yes.”

You smiled.

“That's what I thought.”

The second time you went viral, you were fixing Seungcheol's collar.

It was a music show day.

You had come along because Seungcheol had forgotten his wallet, his phone charger, and the jacket he was supposed to wear.

In that order.

You had arrived at the company building carrying his things and found him in the hallway, surrounded by the members.

He was wearing a suit.

A very nice suit.

Unfortunately, the collar was crooked.

You stared at him.

He stared back.

“What?”

“Your collar.”

“What's wrong with it?”

“It's crooked.”

“It is not.”

“It is.”

“It looks fine.”

“Choi Seungcheol.”

The members immediately turned.

Seungcheol's shoulders dropped.

“Fine.”

You stepped closer and fixed it.

He stood perfectly still.

You adjusted his collar, smoothed down his jacket, fixed his tie, and brushed a piece of lint from his shoulder.

The entire time, Seungcheol looked at you with the most fond expression imaginable.

You didn't notice.

The camera did.

The members definitely did.

And Carats did too.

The clip appeared online that evening.

It was only eight seconds long.

You fixing his collar.

Seungcheol standing there obediently.

You saying something that couldn't be heard.

And Seungcheol immediately nodding.

The internet lost its mind.

THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER???

HE IS GONE.

This man is the leader of thirteen men but one woman fixes his collar and he becomes a child.

She didn't even look at the camera 😭

I need the full context.

The full context was that you had said:

“Stop moving.”

And Seungcheol had replied:

“I'm not moving.”

“You're breathing.”

“I have to breathe.”

“Then breathe less.”

The fact that this was not included in the video was a tragedy.

After that, fans started noticing you.

Not officially.

Not because anyone announced you.

You simply kept appearing.

You had a talent for accidentally wandering into the background of things.

The first time you appeared during a livestream, Seungcheol was sitting on the couch, talking to fans.

You walked behind him.

Wearing his sweatpants.

His hoodie.

And his baseball cap.

Seungcheol didn't notice.

The fans did.

The chat exploded.

WHO WAS THAT?

WAIT.

IS THAT HER?

THE HOODIE GIRL???

Seungcheol glanced at the comments.

His face changed.

You stopped walking.

Slowly.

Seungcheol looked over his shoulder.

You looked at him.

He looked at you.

Then he looked back at the camera.

“She's not here.”

You stared at him.

“I'm literally standing here.”

Seungcheol closed his eyes.

The chat went insane.

You walked over and stood behind the couch.

“Why did you say I'm not here?”

“Because you're not supposed to be here.”

“Then why did you give me a key?”

Seungcheol looked directly into the camera.

“I'm ending the live.”

“No, you're not.”

“I'm ending the live.”

“You have fans.”

“I know.”

“Then talk to them.”

“I was talking to them.”

“Then continue.”

“I'm ending the live.”

You reached over and took the phone.

Seungcheol gasped.

“Give that back.”

“No.”

“You can't just take my phone during a live.”

“Apparently I can.”

You held the phone toward yourself.

The camera caught your face properly for the first time.

You blinked.

“Oh.”

The chat was moving so quickly that you couldn't read anything.

You looked at Seungcheol.

“Why are they screaming?”

“Because you took my phone.”

“No, I think it's because they can see me now.”

“Give me the phone.”

You handed it back.

Then walked away.

The live ended thirty seconds later.

The internet spent the next twelve hours analyzing your face.

You found out because Seungcheol sent you a message from the kitchen.

Seungcheol: You are trending.

You: Why?

Seungcheol: You appeared on my live.

You: Again?

Seungcheol: Yes.

You: Did I say anything bad?

There was a pause.

Seungcheol: You told me to talk to my fans.

You: That's not bad.

Seungcheol: You also told me to stop being dramatic.

You: That's true.

Seungcheol: You also said I was incapable of operating a phone properly.

You: Also true.

Seungcheol: You know what? Never mind.

The members loved you.

That was probably Seungcheol's biggest mistake.

Because the second they realized you were not intimidated by them, they adopted you.

You were no longer simply Seungcheol's girlfriend.

You were now, apparently, everyone's girlfriend.

You had group chats.

You had inside jokes.

You had individual snack preferences memorized.

You knew who would steal food.

You knew who would pretend they weren't hungry and then eat everyone else's food.

You knew who would stay up too late.

And you knew exactly which members Seungcheol would let overwork him.

Which was why you occasionally showed up at the company building and threatened them.

The first time, Seungcheol had been working for almost eighteen hours.

You knew because he had texted you at six in the morning.

Seungcheol: Good morning ❤️

You: Did you sleep?

No answer.

You had called.

No answer.

You had called again.

No answer.

You had called Jeonghan.

“Is Seungcheol with you?”

There was a pause.

“...Yes.”

“Is he sleeping?”

“...No.”

“Has he eaten?”

Another pause.

“...Define eaten.”

You had hung up.

An hour later, you arrived at the company.

You walked into the room where the members were working.

Everyone looked up.

Seungcheol's eyes widened.

“Why are you here?”

You looked around.

“Where is the food?”

No one answered.

You narrowed your eyes.

“Where is the food?”

Mingyu slowly pointed toward the table.

You looked.

There were three coffees.

One banana.

And half a protein bar.

You turned toward Seungcheol.

“That's your lunch?”

“I'm busy.”

You slowly turned toward the other members.

“Who let him work like this?”

Silence.

Jeonghan immediately pointed at Seungcheol.

“He did it himself.”

Seungcheol stared at him.

“Traitor.”

You pointed at him.

“You.”

He froze.

“Me?”

“You're the leader.”

“Yes?”

“You are responsible for making sure everyone is okay.”

“Yes?”

“Who is responsible for making sure you're okay?”

Seungcheol opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

You nodded.

“Exactly.”

You looked at the members.

“I'm ordering food.”

Mingyu raised his hand.

“Can we get—”

“You're getting food too.”

Mingyu immediately smiled.

“She's my favorite person.”

Seungcheol frowned.

“Excuse me?”

“You didn't feed us.”

“I was busy.”

“You're all useless.”

“Hey!”

You walked out to order food.

Behind you, Seungcheol followed.

You turned.

“Where are you going?”

“With you.”

“You're going to sit down.”

“But—”

“Choi Seungcheol.”

He sat down.

The members watched.

Jeonghan slowly turned to the camera that had been filming content in the corner.

“Did you get that?”

The camera operator nodded.

Seungcheol groaned.

“No.”

The clip was uploaded.

Of course it was.

And this time, fans got to see you in full protective girlfriend mode.

SHE WALKED IN AND IMMEDIATELY STARTED MANAGING EVERYONE 😭

“WHO LET HIM WORK LIKE THIS”

THE MEMBERS LOOKED SO GUILTY

CHEOL FOLLOWING HER OUT LIKE A PUPPY

THE WAY HE SAT DOWN IMMEDIATELY WHEN SHE SAID HIS FULL NAME

SHE IS THE ACTUAL LEADER OF SEVENTEEN.

You read the comments while sitting next to Seungcheol.

He was scrolling too.

“You're enjoying this.”

You looked at him.

“I am.”

“You're enjoying everyone calling you my boss?”

“Very much.”

“You're not my boss.”

“Then why do you listen to me?”

“I don't.”

You looked at him.

He looked back.

You pointed at the bowl of fruit you had placed in front of him.

“Eat.”

Seungcheol picked up a piece of fruit.

You smiled.

“That's what I thought.”

The stealing-his-clothes situation became a major topic.

Mostly because you had no shame.

You stole his hoodies.

His shirts.

His sweatpants.

His jackets.

His socks.

At one point, you had somehow acquired one of his stage jackets.

Seungcheol came home and found you wearing it.

He stared.

“Is that mine?”

You looked down.

“Maybe.”

“That is literally the jacket I wore last week.”

“It's comfortable.”

“It's designer.”

“Even better.”

“You can't just steal my clothes.”

“Your clothes are my clothes.”

“That's not how it works.”

“Then why do you keep buying clothes in my size?”

Seungcheol opened his mouth.

Closed it.

You smiled.

“Exactly.”

The problem was that fans began noticing.

One day, Seungcheol uploaded a photo.

He was wearing a black hoodie.

A week later, you appeared in the background of a video.

Wearing the same hoodie.

Fans noticed.

Of course they did.

WAIT.

IS THAT THE SAME HOODIE?

SHE STOLE IT.

THE GIRLFRIEND TAX IS REAL.

He bought it. She owns it now.

Seungcheol saw the comments.

He sent you a message.

Seungcheol: You are trending again.

You: What did I do?

Seungcheol: My hoodie.

You: What about it?

Seungcheol: You are wearing it.

You: Yes.

Seungcheol: I wore that in a photo.

You: And?

Seungcheol: Everyone knows.

You: That you own a hoodie?

Seungcheol: That you stole my hoodie.

You: Borrowed.

Seungcheol: You've had it for three months.

You: Borrowed long-term.

He stared at the conversation.

Then typed:

Seungcheol: Can I have it back?

You replied with a picture of yourself wearing it.

You: No.

He stared at the picture.

Then sighed.

Seungcheol: Fine.

The worst incident happened during one of the members' livestreams.

You weren't even aware there was a camera.

You were sitting on the floor behind the couch, sorting laundry.

Seungcheol was in the middle of a live with several members.

You had been silently folding clothes for about ten minutes when you noticed something.

You held up a shirt.

“Seungcheol.”

He looked over.

“What?”

“Why is this shirt inside out?”

“Because I took it off.”

“You can't take your clothes off and just leave them like this.”

“I put it in the laundry.”

“Inside out.”

“That's where it goes.”

You stared at him.

Then looked at the camera.

“Does he always do this?”

The members immediately started laughing.

Seungcheol looked horrified.

“Don't involve the fans.”

“They need to know.”

“No, they don't.”

“He also leaves cups everywhere.”

“That's not true.”

“There are currently three cups in the bedroom.”

“I was drinking.”

“You finished them.”

“Not all of them.”

You slowly turned.

“Choi Seungcheol.”

He immediately raised both hands.

“Okay.”

The members were losing it.

You continued folding laundry.

“Also, he has a habit of putting things down and then asking me where they are.”

“I don't.”

“You do.”

“I don't.”

“You asked me where your phone was while you were holding it.”

“That happened once.”

“It happened yesterday.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

“I forgot I had it.”

You stared at him.

The room went quiet.

Then everyone burst out laughing.

The clip became one of the most popular SEVENTEEN behind-the-scenes moments of the month.

SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING.

THE WAY SHE DIDN'T EVEN LOOK UP FROM THE LAUNDRY 😭

CHEOL IS SO EMBARRASSED

“Does he always do this?” YES. YES HE DOES.

She has accidentally become the most powerful person in the fandom.

At this point, Seungcheol had accepted that his privacy was gone.

What he had not accepted was that you had somehow become more popular than him.

You had no social media presence.

You did not post.

You did not give interviews.

You did not deliberately interact with fans.

And yet, somehow, every time you appeared, people lost their minds.

Fans had started calling you things.

“Choi Seungcheol's boss.”

“Mrs. Choi.”

“Seungcheol's emotional support girlfriend.”

“The real leader.”

You found the last one particularly funny.

Seungcheol did not.

One night, you were lying on the couch, scrolling through your phone.

Seungcheol walked into the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading comments.”

“Why?”

“Someone made a compilation of me yelling at you.”

He stopped.

“Why would you watch that?”

“It's funny.”

“It is not funny.”

You turned the phone toward him.

The compilation was six minutes long.

It included:

“Choi Seungcheol, put the coffee down.”

“Eat your food.”

“Stop working.”

“Don't touch my snacks.”

“Why are you wearing that shirt? You wore it yesterday.”

“Come here.”

Every single time, Seungcheol listened.

You looked up at him.

“You're very obedient.”

“I am not.”

The compilation continued.

You said, “Seungcheol.”

He immediately turned toward you.

You paused the video.

He froze.

You slowly smiled.

“Interesting.”

He pointed at you.

“Don't.”

“You're whipped.”

“I'm not.”

“You are.”

“I'm not.”

“You just responded to your name in a video.”

“I thought you were calling me.”

“You were in the video.”

“You could have been calling me.”

You burst out laughing.

Seungcheol stared at you.

Then he sat down beside you.

“You're enjoying this way too much.”

“You love me.”

He sighed.

“Unfortunately.”

You gasped.

“Unfortunately?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, no. Go on.”

He reached for you.

You immediately moved away.

“Don't touch me.”

“Come here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come here.”

“Choi Seungcheol.”

He smiled.

There it was.

The full name.

His weakness.

He immediately stopped.

You smiled triumphantly.

“That's what I thought.”

He stared at you.

Then, without warning, grabbed you and pulled you against him.

You squealed.

“Seungcheol!”

“You're annoying.”

“You love me!”

“Unfortunately.”

You laughed as he buried his face against your shoulder.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, you had the feeling that this was not going to remain private.

You were right.

Because the next morning, Seungcheol posted a picture.

Just a simple picture.

His arm around you.

Your face mostly hidden.

You were wearing his hoodie.

Again.

The caption was simple.

My person.

The internet exploded.

You stared at the post.

Then slowly turned toward him.

“Choi Seungcheol.”

He looked up from his phone.

“What?”

“You posted me.”

“Yes.”

“Without warning.”

“Yes.”

“You made me go viral.”

“You've been going viral for months.”

“That is not the point.”

He smiled.

“You're my girlfriend.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

You paused.

He looked at you.

The words were casual.

Simple.

But they still made your heart skip.

You narrowed your eyes.

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“Yes.”

“It's working.”

“I know.”

You stared at him.

Then pointed toward his phone.

“Give it to me.”

“No.”

“I need to see the comments.”

“No.”

“Seungcheol.”

“No.”

“Choi Seungcheol.”

He immediately handed you the phone.

You smiled.

“Thank you.”

He stared at you.

“You are impossible.”

“You love me.”

He sighed.

“Unfortunately.”

You leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Good.”

And as you scrolled through the comments, Seungcheol looked at you with the same expression he always had whenever you were around.

Completely, hopelessly, embarrassingly whipped.

The members knew.

The fans knew.

The entire internet knew.

And, finally, so did you.

Although, to be fair, you had known for a long time.

You just liked making him admit it.

One week later

Seungcheol walked into the dorm.

The members were gathered around the television.

“What are you watching?”

Nobody answered.

He frowned.

Then looked at the screen.

It was a compilation.

A compilation of you.

THE GIRLFRIEND WHO KEEPS ACCIDENTALLY GOING VIRAL — PART 27

Seungcheol stared.

“Part twenty-seven?”

Jeonghan nodded.

“There's a lot of content.”

Seungcheol turned toward you.

You were sitting on the couch wearing his hoodie.

Again.

He pointed at the screen.

“Why is there a part twenty-seven?”

You shrugged.

“People like me.”

“You're enjoying this.”

“Maybe.”

He walked over.

“You're wearing my hoodie.”

“It's mine.”

“It is not.”

“It is now.”

He stared at you.

Then at the members.

Then back at you.

“I'm taking the hoodie back.”

You gasped.

The members went silent.

You slowly stood.

“Try.”

Seungcheol stared at you.

You stared back.

Then he smiled.

“Oh, you're challenging me?”

“Yes.”

“You know I can physically take it off you.”

The room immediately erupted.

You pointed at him.

“Don't say things like that in front of the members!”

Seungcheol blinked.

“What? I meant the hoodie!”

The members were screaming.

You covered your face.

Seungcheol finally realized how that sounded.

His face went bright red.

“That's not what I meant!”

Jeonghan was already laughing.

Mingyu had fallen over.

Seungkwan was shouting that this was going to be uploaded.

You looked at Seungcheol.

“Choi Seungcheol.”

He immediately covered his face.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Please don't.”

“You're buying me another hoodie.”

He lowered his hands.

“What?”

“This one is mine now.”

He stared at you.

Then sighed.

“Fine.”

You smiled.

The members cheered.

And somewhere, somehow, you already knew that this was going to end up online.

Sure enough, the next day, it did.

SHE SAID “TRY” AND HE IMMEDIATELY LOST THE ARGUMENT 😭

THEY ARE SO MARRIED.

CHEOL HAS NO POWER IN HIS OWN RELATIONSHIP.

THE WAY HE JUST SAID FINE.

She accidentally goes viral every week and he keeps giving her more material.

And Seungcheol?

He read every single comment.

Then came home.

Found you wearing another one of his hoodies.

And smiled.

Because maybe he had regretted giving you access to his house.

Maybe he regretted giving you a key.

Maybe he regretted letting you appear in one behind-the-scenes video.

But he had never regretted you.

Not once.

Even if the entire internet now knew exactly how whipped he was.

Especially because you knew too.

And every time you looked at him, smiled, and said—

“Choi Seungcheol.”

He still turned around.

Every.

Single.

The worst part wasn't the distance.

Not really.

You could survive different countries.

Different time zones.

Different schedules.

Different lives.

You'd survived all of that for three years.

No.

The worst part was that Henry was still somehow the person you wanted to tell everything to.

Every achievement.

Every stupid joke.

Every bad day.

Every good day.

Every song you wrote at three in the morning.

Every outfit you were excited about.

Every time something reminded you of him.

Which happened far too often.

When Henry left SM, everyone expected things to change.

Friendships faded all the time in the industry.

People got busy.

Lives moved on.

But somehow yours never did.

Not with him.

The day he left, you'd sat together in one of the practice rooms.

Neither of you had wanted to acknowledge it.

Because acknowledging it made it real.

"You better not forget me."

Henry had looked genuinely offended.

"Forget you?"

"People say that and then disappear."

He pointed at you dramatically.

"You disappear."

"I do not."

"You absolutely do."

You laughed.

"I literally text you every day."

"Exactly."

He crossed his arms.

"So if you stop, I'll know you've betrayed me."

"Betrayed you?"

"Yes."

"You make this sound like a historical drama."

"It is."

You rolled your eyes.

But then his smile softened.

And so did yours.

"Promise?"

The joking vanished immediately.

Henry looked at you.

Really looked at you.

And held out his pinky.

"Promise."

You hooked yours around it.

"Promise."

Three years later.

You had kept that promise.

Every single day.

Texts.

Voice notes.

Calls.

FaceTimes.

Photos.

Memes.

Random videos.

Sometimes entire conversations consisting only of cat pictures.

You spoke so often that people assumed you saw each other regularly.

You didn't.

Not once.

Not in three years.

Because every time schedules almost aligned—

Something happened.

A tour.

A show.

A comeback.

A festival.

A recording.

A variety appearance.

A flight delay.

A canceled trip.

A missed opportunity.

Three years.

Three entire years.

And somehow you still hadn't managed to be in the same room.

At first it had been fine.

You missed him.

Obviously.

But it was manageable.

Then the missing changed.

It became heavier.

Sharper.

More painful.

And somewhere during those three years, you made a horrifying discovery.

You were in love with him.

You didn't know exactly when it happened.

Maybe it had always been there.

Maybe it had grown slowly.

Maybe it was hearing his voice after exhausting days and feeling instantly better.

Maybe it was how he remembered every tiny detail about your life.

Maybe it was how he still called when he knew you were stressed.

Maybe it was how he always made time.

No matter how busy he got.

No matter how exhausted he was.

No matter what country he was in.

Maybe it was everything.

The realization ruined you.

Because now missing him wasn't just missing your best friend.

Now it was missing someone you loved.

Someone you couldn't touch.

Couldn't hug.

Couldn't sit beside.

Couldn't see.

Not really.

Not beyond a screen.

And lately things had gotten worse.

A lot worse.

You were exhausted.

Burnt out.

Lonely.

Your schedule had been relentless for months.

Tour.

Interviews.

Variety appearances.

Photoshoots.

Fashion events.

Studio sessions.

Brand deals.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

You smiled constantly.

Performed constantly.

Worked constantly.

And slowly started falling apart.

Nobody noticed.

Not really.

You were good at hiding it.

Idols learned how.

You smiled.

Laughed.

Answered questions.

Performed.

Then went home and cried.

The loneliness was what got you.

Not being alone.

Being lonely.

There was a difference.

You were surrounded by people constantly.

Managers.

Staff.

Fans.

Other idols.

Producers.

Stylists.

Hundreds of people.

Yet somehow you'd never felt more alone.

Especially at night.

When everything got quiet.

When there were no cameras.

No lights.

No audiences.

No distractions.

Just you.

And your thoughts.

And the ache in your chest.

And Henry.

Always Henry.

You started sleeping less.

Eating less.

Smiling less when nobody was watching.

Then came tonight.

You were sitting on your couch.

Blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Phone buzzing beside you.

You'd spent almost an hour crying.

For no reason.

Or maybe for every reason.

Your eyes hurt.

Your head hurt.

Your chest hurt.

Everything hurt.

Then your phone lit up.

Henry FaceTiming.

You stared at it.

Briefly considered ignoring it.

But you couldn't.

Not him.

Never him.

So you answered.

His face immediately appeared.

Messy hair.

Bright smile.

Familiar.

Painfully familiar.

God.

You missed him.

"Hey."

His grin widened.

"Hey."

For a second everything felt normal.

Then his expression changed.

Immediately.

"...What happened?"

Your stomach dropped.

"Nothing."

"Don't do that."

You looked away.

"Do what?"

"That."

His voice softened.

"You're crying."

You laughed weakly.

"No I'm not."

"Your eyes are literally red."

You rubbed them.

Too late.

Henry frowned.

"How long have you been crying?"

You shrugged.

His expression darkened.

"Y/N."

Something in your chest twisted.

Because he knew.

Of course he knew.

After all these years he always knew.

"Talk to me."

You looked down.

"Please."

And suddenly—

You couldn't do it anymore.

Couldn't pretend.

Couldn't smile.

Couldn't keep carrying everything.

Your lip trembled.

Henry immediately sat forward.

Concern flooding his face.

"Hey."

That was it.

That tiny word.

The concern.

The gentleness.

The familiarity.

Everything snapped.

You burst into tears.

"Y/N!"

You covered your face.

Sobbing.

Actually sobbing.

The kind that hurt.

The kind you couldn't stop.

Henry looked terrified.

"Hey, hey, hey."

His voice shook.

"Talk to me."

You couldn't.

For almost a minute.

Then finally—

"I miss you."

The words came out broken.

Raw.

Painful.

Henry froze.

"I miss you."

You laughed through tears.

"I miss you so much."

His expression shattered.

"It hurts."

Your shoulders shook.

"It physically hurts."

Henry stared.

Speechless.

Three years.

Three years of pretending you were okay.

Three years of smiling through screens.

Three years of telling each other you'd meet soon.

And now suddenly all of it came pouring out.

"I miss my best friend."

Tears streamed down your face.

"I miss you so much."

Henry swallowed hard.

"I know."

"No."

You shook your head.

"You don't."

Your voice cracked.

"You don't know how bad it's gotten."

The silence that followed was awful.

Then quietly—

"What do you mean?"

You looked away.

And admitted the truth.

"I haven't been doing well."

Henry immediately straightened.

"What?"

"I've been trying."

Your voice sounded hollow.

Even to yourself.

"I'm tired."

Henry's face paled.

"So tired."

You wiped tears away.

"I keep working."

A shaky laugh.

"And smiling."

Another.

"And pretending."

His eyes looked glassy.

"Y/N..."

"I don't know how to stop feeling like this."

Silence.

Then:

"How long?"

You hesitated.

"Months."

Henry closed his eyes.

Months.

Months.

And he hadn't known.

When he opened them again, they looked devastated.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Because you didn't want to worry him.

Because he was busy.

Because everyone was busy.

Because you didn't want to be a burden.

Because you thought you could handle it.

You couldn't.

"I don't know."

Henry stared at you.

Then suddenly stood.

You blinked.

"Henry?"

He disappeared from camera.

You heard drawers opening.

Zippers.

Movement.

"What are you doing?"

No answer.

A minute later he returned.

Holding a suitcase.

Your brain stopped.

"...Henry."

"I'm coming."

"What?"

"I'm coming."

You laughed weakly.

"You're joking."

"I'm not."

"Henry—"

"I'm booking a flight."

Your heart nearly stopped.

"Right now."

"Henry."

"No."

His voice broke.

"You don't get to tell me no."

You stared.

He looked furious.

Terrified.

Heartbroken.

"You've been suffering for months."

His eyes shone.

"And I'm on another continent."

You felt tears return.

"Henry—"

"I'm coming."

His voice softened.

"I'm coming."

Like it was a promise.

Like it was inevitable.

Like nothing in the world could stop him.

And for the first time in months—

You felt a tiny bit better.

Three days later.

The airport.

Your hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Henry's flight had landed twenty minutes ago.

Twenty minutes.

You'd spent three years waiting.

Now twenty minutes felt unbearable.

Then—

You saw him.

And the world stopped.

There he was.

Exactly the same.

And completely different.

Real.

Not a screen.

Not a voice.

Not pixels.

Real.

Henry spotted you.

And immediately dropped his suitcase.

Neither of you cared.

You ran.

So did he.

Then suddenly—

His arms were around you.

And yours were around him.

Tight.

Desperate.

Unwilling to let go.

Three years disappeared instantly.

You buried your face in his shoulder.

Henry held you even tighter.

"Hi."

His voice cracked.

You started crying again.

"Sorry."

"No."

His arms tightened.

"Don't apologize."

You clung harder.

Because he was here.

Actually here.

Warm.

Real.

Solid.

Here.

"I missed you."

Henry laughed shakily.

"I know."

"No."

You squeezed him.

"I really missed you."

His laugh turned watery.

"I know."

Neither of you let go.

Not for a very long time.

And after that?

You became practically inseparable.

Henry stayed.

Longer than planned.

Much longer.

Movies.

Takeout.

Walks.

Conversations until sunrise.

Music sessions.

Laughing.

Healing.

And whenever he sat beside you—

You touched him.

Not because you meant to.

But because your brain still couldn't believe he was real.

A hand on his sleeve.

His shoulder.

His arm.

His hand.

Every single time.

Henry noticed.

Of course he did.

But he never said anything.

Just let you.

Because after three years apart—

He couldn't stop touching you either.

One night you fell asleep on the couch.

Head on his shoulder.

Hand gripping his hoodie.

Henry looked down.

And smiled.

Because for the first time since arriving—

You looked peaceful.

Happy.

Safe.

And maybe—

Just maybe—

Neither of you ever wanted to do long-distance friendship again.

Especially not when the feelings between you had quietly become something much bigger.

His fingers gently brushed your hair.

"I'm here."

You didn't hear him.

Already asleep.

But your grip tightened anyway.

And Henry smiled.

Because this time—

He wasn't going anywhere.

And for the first time in a very long while—

Neither of you had to miss each other anymore.

Part 18

The apartment was smaller than you remembered.

That was the first thing you thought.

You stood across the street, staring at the building.

It looked exactly the same.

And completely different.

The brick façade.

The narrow balconies.

The little convenience store on the corner.

The tree that had been much smaller when you lived there.

You had walked past this building hundreds of times.

You had left it with suitcases.

You had returned to it after long days.

You had kissed Seonghwa outside the entrance.

You had cried in the elevator.

You had once believed you would live there forever.

Now, you couldn't even remember the colour of the curtains.

"You've been standing here for ten minutes."

You turned.

Seonghwa stood behind you.

You stared at him.

"How did you know where I was?"

"You sent me your location."

You blinked.

"I did?"

He held up his phone.

You had.

At three in the morning.

You had sent him a pin with no explanation.

He had replied:

Do you want me to come?

You had answered:

Maybe.

And apparently, he had understood.

"You could have said no," you told him.

"I could have."

"But you didn't."

"No."

You looked back at the building.

"Why?"

He came to stand beside you.

"Because you said maybe."

You smiled faintly.

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have."

You had not planned to come here.

Not really.

You had been walking.

Thinking.

The conversation from the night before had stayed with you.

I would have answered.

Three years.

Three years of silence.

Not because either of you had stopped caring.

Because both of you had believed the other person wanted distance.

You had spent years wondering if he had ever thought of you.

He had spent years wondering if you had wanted him to disappear.

It was almost funny.

If it hadn't hurt so much.

"You want to go up?" he asked.

You looked at the building.

The apartment was no longer yours.

You knew that.

Someone else lived there now.

A family, according to the landlord's website.

You had checked once.

You didn't know why.

"No."

He nodded.

You stayed where you were.

"Actually..."

He looked at you.

"I want to."

You had no reason to.

You couldn't go inside.

You couldn't see the apartment.

But you could stand outside.

And perhaps that was enough.

You walked toward the entrance.

The door had been replaced.

The old keypad was gone.

You stared at the new one.

"That wasn't there before."

"No."

"The landlord finally changed it."

"Apparently."

"You remember?"

He looked at you.

"I remember a lot."

You swallowed.

You had forgotten how dangerous that could be.

You walked to the side of the building.

There was a small bench beneath the tree.

You used to sit there in summer.

Sometimes with coffee.

Sometimes waiting for Seonghwa.

Sometimes because you didn't want to go upstairs yet.

You sat down.

He sat beside you.

Not too close.

Not far away.

The space between you felt intentional.

"You used to wait for me here."

You looked at him.

"Sometimes."

"Why didn't you come upstairs?"

"Because you weren't home."

"You had a key."

"I know."

He smiled.

"You were strange."

"I didn't want to go inside without you."

His smile faded.

You looked at the building.

"I liked that apartment because it was ours."

The words were quiet.

He looked at you.

"Even though I was barely there?"

You nodded.

"That was the problem."

He looked away.

You immediately wished you hadn't said it.

But he didn't get defensive.

"I know."

The night was quiet.

Cars passed occasionally.

A couple walked by.

Somewhere nearby, someone laughed.

Life continued.

It always did.

"I used to think that if we broke up, I would never come back here."

You said it without looking at him.

"Why?"

"Because it would hurt."

He nodded.

"Did it?"

"Yes."

You looked at him.

"But not because of the apartment."

"Then why?"

You thought.

"Because I had to accept that I had left something I still wanted."

His expression changed.

You looked away.

"I didn't know how to go back."

"You could have."

"I know."

"Why didn't you?"

You laughed softly.

"You're really enjoying asking me that question."

"No."

He looked at you.

"I'm trying to understand."

You nodded.

"I know."

You looked at the apartment.

"I thought if I came back, it would mean I had failed."

He frowned.

"Failed at what?"

"Leaving."

He was quiet.

You continued.

"I had built this entire life. I moved to Amsterdam. I grew my blog. I made a name for myself."

"I know."

"I was proud of myself."

"You should be."

"I am."

You looked down.

"But I thought wanting something from before meant I wasn't really independent."

Seonghwa's expression softened.

"You thought wanting me meant you were weak."

You didn't answer.

You didn't have to.

He looked at the ground.

"I never wanted to be something you needed to survive."

You looked at him.

"I know."

"I wanted to be something you chose."

Your chest tightened.

You stared at him.

He continued.

"And I was too scared to tell you that."

The words sat between you.

You had both been so close to saying them years ago.

You had both failed.

Now, sitting outside the apartment that had once been yours, you finally understood.

"You should have told me."

"I know."

"I would have listened."

"I know."

"Would you have believed me?"

He thought about it.

"Maybe not immediately."

You laughed.

"At least you're honest."

"I would have tried."

You nodded.

"I would have too."

He looked at you.

"Did you ever regret leaving?"

You stared at him.

"Yes."

"Every day?"

You thought about it.

"No."

He looked down.

You continued.

"Not every day."

He nodded.

"There were days I was happy."

"I know."

"There were days I was proud of myself."

"I know."

"There were days I didn't think about you at all."

He swallowed.

You noticed.

"And there were days I did."

"How many?"

You looked at him.

"That's not fair."

"I know."

You smiled.

"More than I wanted to."

He looked away.

"Okay."

You nudged his shoulder lightly.

"Don't look so pleased."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"You are."

He laughed.

And for a moment, you were twenty-six again.

Sitting outside your apartment.

Arguing about something stupid.

Except you weren't.

You were older.

The years had changed you.

But not everything.

The conversation became quiet again.

Then Seonghwa said:

"I was scared."

You looked at him.

He was staring at the building.

"Back then."

You waited.

"I was scared that one day you'd realize you didn't need to come home."

Your throat tightened.

He continued.

"That you'd travel somewhere. Meet people. Build a life. And eventually, coming back to me would feel like something you had to do."

You looked down.

"I never thought that."

"I know."

"But you were scared of it."

"Yes."

He took a breath.

"I thought if I asked you to stay, you'd resent me."

You looked at him.

"So instead, you resented me for leaving."

He laughed quietly.

"That sounds about right."

You smiled sadly.

"We were terrible at this."

"Very."

You took a breath.

"I was scared too."

He looked at you.

"I was scared that if I stayed, I would become someone I didn't recognize."

He listened.

"I was scared that one day I would wake up and realize I had given up everything for a relationship."

"You wouldn't have."

"I know that now."

You looked at him.

"But I didn't know it then."

He nodded.

"And I was scared that if I admitted I missed you, you would hear it as a demand."

"I wouldn't have."

"I know that now."

He looked at you.

"Apparently, we both know a lot of things now."

You smiled.

"Three years late."

"Still counts."

You looked at him.

"Does it?"

He met your eyes.

"I think so."

You sat there until the sky began to lighten.

Neither of you noticed at first.

The city was waking up.

A delivery truck passed.

Someone opened the convenience store.

The world moved around you.

You looked at the building one last time.

"I don't want to go inside anymore."

Seonghwa nodded.

"Why?"

You thought.

"Because it's not mine."

He looked at you.

"And that's okay."

You smiled.

"Yeah."

You stood.

He stood too.

You looked at the apartment.

Then at him.

"I think I was waiting for it to still feel like home."

He said nothing.

You looked at him.

"Maybe home was never the apartment."

His expression softened.

"Maybe."

You took a breath.

"Maybe it was the person I left there."

Seonghwa went completely still.

You realized what you had said.

Your heart began beating hard.

"Yura."

You shook your head.

"I know."

"No."

He stepped closer.

Not touching you.

"Don't take it back."

You looked at him.

The same words.

Different moment.

You swallowed.

"Okay."

He didn't kiss you.

You didn't kiss him.

But he reached for your hand.

Slowly.

Giving you every opportunity to pull away.

You didn't.

His fingers curled around yours.

It was the first time he had touched you like that in three years.

Your hand fit into his as if no time had passed.

And yet, everything had changed.

You stood outside your old apartment.

The place where you had once said goodbye.

The place you had believed you could never return to.

And for the first time, you understood something.

You didn't need to go back.

Not to the apartment.

Not to the past.

Not to the people you had been.

You could start somewhere new.

Even if the person beside you was someone you had loved before.

Even if the love had never completely disappeared.

Even if you were both still terrified.

When he finally let go of your hand, the absence was immediate.

You looked at him.

He looked back.

"Do you want breakfast?"

You smiled.

"Are you asking me out?"

He smiled too.

"Maybe."

You laughed.

"You're learning."

"I've had a good teacher."

You rolled your eyes.

"Don't flatter me."

"Too late."

You began walking beside him.

Away from the apartment.

Away from the past.

Not away from each other.

And this time, neither of you was running.

The group chat exploded at exactly 6:01 PM.

Minnie: IT'S OUT.

Yuqi: STREAM IT RIGHT NOW OR WE'RE UNFRIENDING YOU.

Miyeon: Please enjoy it nicely ❤️

Shuhua: If you don't like it, lie.

Soyeon: Ignore them. Just listen.

You stared at your phone from your couch, already grinning.

After years of being best friends with the six women, comeback day never got old.

You knew the stress.

The sleepless nights.

The endless recording sessions.

The arguments over tiny details nobody else would notice.

The way Soyeon disappeared into her studio cave for days whenever she was creating something important.

The way the others trusted her completely.

So when the notification appeared announcing the release of their new song, you practically dove for your headphones.

"Alright," you muttered. "Let's see what you've been hiding from me."

You hit play.

The opening beat hit.

Then the first verse.

Then the lyrics.

By the time the chorus arrived, you were sitting upright.

"Oh."

The song wasn't just good.

It was powerful.

Raw.

Hungry.

The kind of song that grabbed your shoulders and demanded you listen.

"We are born in the nest of the crow."

A shiver ran down your spine.

You listened all the way through.

Then immediately replayed it.

And again.

And again.

By the fourth listen, your jaw was hanging open.

"These women are insane."

The confidence.

The determination.

The refusal to rely on luck.

The message of fighting your way upward no matter where you started.

It felt like a battle cry.

And somehow it felt even more personal because you knew the people behind it.

You remembered hearing stories about trainee days.

About uncertainty.

About proving themselves over and over again.

About being underestimated.

Yet here they were.

Still climbing.

Still hungry.

Still chasing something bigger.

"Keep chasing the glow until it cuts my tongue."

You paused the song.

Stared at the wall.

Then immediately opened the group chat.

You: EXCUSE ME????

Messages appeared instantly.

Yuqi: HAHAHAHA

Minnie: There it is.

Miyeon: You listened?

You: LISTENED? I'M ASCENDING.

Shuhua: Good answer.

You: WHAT DID YOU PEOPLE PUT IN THIS SONG?

Soyeon: Music.

You: SOYEON.

Soyeon: What?

You: This is ridiculous.

Three dots appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared again.

Soyeon: Good ridiculous?

You smiled.

For all her confidence, Soyeon still wanted reassurance from people she cared about.

You: Good ridiculous.

You: Actually amazing ridiculous.

You: Girl power ridiculous.

You: Main-character energy ridiculous.

The chat immediately filled with laughing emojis.

An hour later you found yourself at their dorm.

Because apparently listening to the song wasn't enough.

You needed to yell about it in person.

The moment the door opened, Yuqi pointed dramatically.

"I knew she'd come."

"I had to."

"You came to scream?"

"Yes."

"Reasonable."

You stepped inside.

The living room was full.

Minnie was curled up on the couch.

Miyeon was scrolling through fan reactions.

Shuhua was eating snacks.

Soyeon sat quietly in the corner pretending she wasn't waiting for feedback.

You immediately pointed at her.

"You."

Soyeon blinked.

"What?"

"You made me emotional."

"That's your problem."

"No, because I was expecting a banger."

"It is a banger."

"It is."

"Then?"

"Then suddenly I'm getting life lessons."

The room erupted into laughter.

A few minutes later everyone settled around the coffee table.

The song played quietly from a speaker.

You looked around the room.

"You know what I love most?"

"Hmm?" Miyeon asked.

"The message."

Soyeon raised an eyebrow.

"Which part?"

"The part where you're basically telling everyone to stop waiting for luck."

The room grew quieter.

You continued.

"Like... that line about not trusting luck anymore."

Soyeon nodded.

"Yeah."

"I love that."

Yuqi leaned back.

"We've never been lucky."

"Exactly."

You pointed dramatically.

"THAT."

Yuqi laughed.

"No seriously."

You looked at all of them.

"You girls worked for everything."

Minnie smiled softly.

"We tried."

"Tried?" you repeated.

"You practically clawed your way up."

Shuhua nearly choked on her drink.

"Clawed."

"It fits the crow theme."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

"It really doesn't."

The conversation shifted naturally into memories.

Trainee stories.

Old dorm stories.

The terrible food they'd survived on.

The tiny practice rooms.

The uncertainty.

You listened quietly.

Most fans only saw success.

The trophies.

The performances.

The headlines.

You knew the reality.

You knew how many tears existed behind every achievement.

How many sacrifices.

How many moments of doubt.

And somehow this song captured all of it.

The determination.

The hunger.

The refusal to quit.

The belief that where you started didn't determine where you finished.

You looked around the room.

"I think that's why it hits so hard."

The members looked toward you.

You shrugged.

"Because it's true."

"What is?" Minnie asked.

"The song."

You gestured vaguely.

"The whole crow thing."

Yuqi immediately started cawing.

"CAW CAW."

Everyone ignored her.

You continued.

"Most people would look at your beginning and say you shouldn't have made it this far."

The room fell silent.

"But you did."

Miyeon smiled.

A little emotional.

Soyeon looked away.

The others exchanged glances.

You pointed toward the speaker.

"So hearing you sing about being hungry for more?"

You shook your head.

"It's believable."

Because it was.

Nothing about the song felt fake.

"What's your favorite line?"

Minnie asked suddenly.

You immediately answered.

"Keep chasing the glow until it cuts my tongue."

The room collectively nodded.

"Good choice," Soyeon admitted.

"It hurts."

"It's supposed to."

"I know."

You leaned forward.

"It's basically saying you'll keep chasing your goal even when it becomes painful."

Soyeon's eyes widened slightly.

"You got it."

"Of course I got it."

"You'd be surprised."

You grinned.

"I know you too well."

A few hours later the song was still playing.

For maybe the twentieth time.

Nobody was counting anymore.

You found yourself dancing around the living room with Yuqi.

Badly.

Very badly.

Shuhua was recording.

"Evidence."

"Delete that."

"Never."

Miyeon was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

Minnie had somehow fallen sideways onto the couch.

And Soyeon—

Soyeon was smiling.

Really smiling.

The kind that only happened when she was genuinely happy.

You walked over and nudged her shoulder.

"Proud of yourself?"

She pretended to think.

"A little."

"Only a little?"

"A medium amount."

You snorted.

"Liar."

She laughed.

Maybe she was proud.

And she deserved to be.

All of them did.

Near midnight everyone ended up sitting on the floor surrounded by empty snack wrappers.

The room was quieter now.

Comfortable.

Content.

You looked around at your best friends.

Six women who had spent years proving themselves.

Six women who refused to stop growing.

Six women who kept reaching higher even after achieving things most people only dreamed about.

You thought about the song again.

About crows.

About underdogs.

About chasing something brighter.

About never being satisfied with standing still.

Then you smiled.

"Hey."

Everyone looked up.

"Yeah?" Yuqi asked.

You pointed at them.

"You girls are slaying."

Immediate groans.

"Oh no."

"Not the slang."

"She's entered auntie mode."

"I'm literally the same age as you."

"Not spiritually."

The room exploded into laughter.

You rolled your eyes.

"Fine."

You stood dramatically.

Cleared your throat.

Then announced:

"Your new song is incredible."

The teasing stopped.

The members listened.

You smiled.

"And I'm really proud of all of you."

For a moment nobody spoke.

Then Miyeon got emotional.

Minnie got emotional because Miyeon got emotional.

Yuqi pretended not to be emotional.

Shuhua absolutely noticed.

Soyeon looked away again.

Which told you everything.

Because despite all the success.

Despite all the awards.

Despite all the confidence.

At the end of the day, they were still your best friends.

And sometimes hearing "I'm proud of you" from someone who had been there since the beginning meant more than any chart ranking ever could.

The speaker played the chorus again.

"We are born in the nest of the crow."

And as the six women around you sang along at the top of their lungs, laughing and off-key and completely themselves—

You couldn't help thinking the song had gotten one thing exactly right.

No matter how high they flew.

No matter how much they achieved.

They were still hungry.

Still determined.

Still chasing the glow.

And honestly?

The first mistake you made was telling Bobby anything.

The second mistake was thinking he'd keep it to himself.

The third mistake was forgetting that Bobby had been married long enough to believe he was suddenly an expert on romance.

Which was how you found yourself sitting in the YG cafeteria, staring at your best friend in horror.

"No."

Bobby looked up from his lunch.

"What?"

"You told someone."

"I didn't."

"You absolutely did."

"I absolutely didn't."

Across the cafeteria, your crush glanced over.

Again.

For the fourth time in three minutes.

You pointed aggressively.

"Then why is he looking at me like that?"

Bobby followed your finger.

"Oh."

"OH?"

"He might know."

Your soul left your body.

"You told him?"

"No."

"Then how does he know?"

Bobby looked genuinely thoughtful.

"I may have been dropping hints."

You closed your eyes.

When you opened them again, he was smiling proudly.

The smile of a man who had just committed a crime and expected praise for it.

The entire disaster had started two weeks earlier.

You worked at YG as part of the creative production team.

Nothing glamorous.

Lots of scheduling.

Lots of meetings.

Lots of fixing problems caused by artists.

And unfortunately for you—

Lots of interactions with Kim Hanbin.

Not the idol.

A producer.

A terrifyingly talented producer.

A ridiculously attractive producer.

A producer who somehow looked good even when surviving on three hours of sleep and coffee.

A producer who had no business being that handsome while discussing budget spreadsheets.

You'd managed to keep your crush hidden for almost eight months.

Then Bobby ruined everything.

It happened during lunch.

You'd been staring into space.

Bobby had noticed.

Unfortunately.

"Who is it?"

You nearly inhaled your rice.

"What?"

"Who."

"What who?"

"The person."

You blinked.

He blinked back.

You blinked harder.

His eyes widened.

Then he pointed at you.

"YOU HAVE A CRUSH."

Half the cafeteria turned around.

You wanted death.

Immediately.

"Bobby!"

"WHO IS IT?"

"Stop yelling!"

"OH MY GOD."

People were looking now.

Actually looking.

You wanted to throw yourself through a window.

Bobby leaned forward dramatically.

"Tell me everything."

"No."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me."

You hated him.

You genuinely hated him.

Ten minutes later you were telling him everything.

Because Bobby had the persistence of a mosquito.

His reaction had been worse than expected.

"A producer?"

"Yes."

"Hanbin?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

You glared.

"Damn good or damn bad?"

"Damn, that's actually a good choice."

You threw a napkin at him.

"Thank you?"

"He's smart."

"Okay."

"Nice."

"Okay."

"Successful."

"Okay."

"Pretty."

You nearly choked.

"PRETTY?"

"He is."

"People don't call men pretty."

"They should."

That should have been the end of it.

A normal friend would have listened.

Offered support.

Maybe some advice.

Then moved on.

Bobby was not a normal friend.

Bobby was a menace.

The following Monday he cornered you in the hallway.

"I have a plan."

Immediately no.

"No."

"You haven't heard it."

"I don't need to."

"Trust me."

"I absolutely do not."

"That's hurtful."

You kept walking.

He followed.

Like an extremely loud duck.

"My wife says it's genius."

"Your wife also told you not to get involved."

"That's unrelated."

"How is that unrelated?"

"Different conversation."

His first plan involved seating arrangements.

You discovered this when entering a meeting room.

Every seat was occupied.

Except one.

Next to Hanbin.

You narrowed your eyes.

Bobby was sitting across the room.

Smiling.

Thumbs up.

You hated him.

You sat down.

Hanbin glanced over.

Then immediately looked toward Bobby.

Who was still giving thumbs up.

Your stomach dropped.

Hanbin knew.

Hanbin absolutely knew.

After the meeting ended, you cornered Bobby.

"He knows."

"He doesn't."

"He looked at you."

"Coincidence."

"You gave me a thumbs up."

"Encouragement."

"You winked."

"Support."

"You mouthed 'YOU GOT THIS.'"

Bobby paused.

"Okay, maybe that part was obvious."

Things somehow got worse.

Because Bobby became convinced that matchmaking was his calling.

Every day brought a new disaster.

Every day he became more confident.

Every day you became closer to a nervous breakdown.

Tuesday.

Group dinner.

Supposedly spontaneous.

Not spontaneous.

At all.

You arrived.

Hanbin was there.

Bobby was there.

A bunch of staff were there.

Everyone looked suspicious.

Like they'd been briefed beforehand.

You sat down.

Hanbin sat beside you.

Across the table Bobby looked ready to cry from happiness.

His wife smacked him.

"Stop staring."

"I'm not staring."

"You absolutely are."

"I am watching love bloom."

"You are watching two people eat barbecue."

Wednesday.

Coffee run.

Bobby volunteered.

Nobody had asked him to.

He returned carrying drinks.

Handing them out dramatically.

"This one's yours."

You took your cup.

Then noticed something written on it.

You looked down.

Almost screamed.

A heart.

There was a giant heart.

And your initials.

You slowly turned toward Bobby.

He immediately pretended not to see you.

Coward.

Thursday.

You discovered an office betting pool.

Because of course there was one.

"WHAT IS THIS?"

Your coworker looked guilty.

Nothing good ever followed that expression.

"Nothing."

You held up the paper.

"'Will Y/N confess first or will Bobby accidentally do it for her?'"

Silence.

"Oh my god."

Someone coughed.

Someone else slowly walked away.

The betting pool had thirty-two participants.

Thirty-two.

People.

You worked with.

Every day.

The most embarrassing part?

Bobby was leading the betting.

On himself.

Friday brought disaster.

Actual disaster.

The kind of disaster that becomes company legend.

You were in a recording room discussing schedules.

Hanbin sat beside you.

The conversation was perfectly normal.

Professional.

Calm.

Then Bobby walked in.

Without knocking.

Without thinking.

Without survival instincts.

"There you are!"

You froze.

Hanbin froze.

Bobby froze.

For one brief moment everyone existed in silence.

Then Bobby smiled.

"Oh."

Oh no.

That smile.

That smile always meant destruction.

"You two are together."

Your soul left your body.

"Working together."

Bobby nodded.

"Right."

The smile got worse.

"Oh my god."

You knew that tone.

You hated that tone.

Hanbin looked amused.

Which somehow made everything worse.

"Something you want to say, Bobby?"

"Nope."

"Then why are you standing there smiling?"

"No reason."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

A beat.

Then—

"Y/N thinks you're pretty."

Silence.

Complete.

Absolute.

Silence.

You stared.

Hanbin stared.

Bobby stared.

The universe stared.

Then Bobby realized what he'd said.

"Oh."

Your eye twitched.

"Oh?"

"I wasn't supposed to say that."

"YOU THINK?"

Hanbin started laughing.

Actually laughing.

Head down.

Shoulders shaking.

The man couldn't breathe.

You considered murder.

Later that night you received twenty-three messages.

Most were from coworkers.

One was from Bobby.

BOBBY:

Good news.

YOU:

There is no good news.

BOBBY:

He laughed.

YOU:

I hate you.

BOBBY:

That's fair.

The next morning, something unexpected happened.

Hanbin approached your desk.

You prepared for death.

Instead he leaned casually against the partition.

"You think I'm pretty?"

You immediately forgot every language you'd ever learned.

"..."

"..."

"..."

Hanbin laughed.

Again.

"You know, you could've just talked to me."

You stared.

"What?"

"Instead of hiring Bobby."

"I DIDN'T HIRE HIM."

"Could've fooled me."

The realization hit you.

Slowly.

Horribly.

Like a truck.

Hanbin thought Bobby had been acting under your instructions.

"Oh my god."

That explained everything.

Why he'd seemed amused instead of horrified.

Why he hadn't avoided you.

Why he looked entertained every time Bobby appeared.

Hanbin rubbed his face.

"I honestly thought you were messing with me."

"Messing with you?"

"Yeah."

He shrugged.

"The coffee cups."

You wanted to die.

"The group dinners."

Death.

"The seating arrangements."

Death again.

"The motivational speeches."

The what?

"The motivational speeches?"

Hanbin grinned.

"Oh."

No.

"No."

"Oh yes."

Apparently Bobby had also been cornering Hanbin.

Repeatedly.

"She's funny."

"She's smart."

"She likes your music."

"She thinks you're talented."

"She's too nervous to talk to you."

"Please help me."

Hanbin laughed so hard he nearly fell over while recounting it.

You, meanwhile, were mentally planning Bobby's funeral.

"You know what's really funny?"

"No."

"He thought he was being subtle."

You groaned.

For a moment neither of you spoke.

Then Hanbin's smile softened.

Just slightly.

Enough for your heart to trip over itself.

"Honestly?"

He shrugged.

"I was kind of hoping you'd ask me out eventually."

Your brain stopped working.

"What?"

Hanbin looked embarrassed now.

Actually embarrassed.

Which felt impossible.

"You were cute."

Your heartbeat became a health concern.

"And every time Bobby showed up, I figured maybe you were interested."

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"I just didn't know how much of it was him and how much was you."

Oh.

OH.

The idiot had accidentally helped.

You hated that.

"You know," Hanbin said carefully, "we could skip the part where Bobby ruins another month of our lives."

You laughed.

Despite yourself.

"What are you suggesting?"

"A date."

Simple.

Direct.

Normal.

Everything Bobby wasn't.

You smiled.

"Yeah."

His smile answered immediately.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Unfortunately.

You forgot one thing.

Bobby was nearby.

Very nearby.

Because the second you agreed—

A scream echoed down the hallway.

"IT WORKED!"

You closed your eyes.

"No."

"IT WORKED!"

Employees emerged from offices.

People started cheering.

Someone collected money.

Apparently bets were being settled.

Your date hadn't even happened yet.

And somehow the entire company already knew.

Hanbin stared.

You stared.

Everyone stared.

Then Bobby appeared running down the hallway.

Victorious.

Emotional.

Pointing at himself.

"I KNEW IT."

"You absolutely did not."

"I DID."

"You confessed for me!"

"Technicality."

His wife appeared seconds later.

Looking exhausted.

"Bobby."

"Yes?"

"You owe me fifty dollars."

"What?"

"I bet against your plan."

The entire hallway exploded into laughter.

Months later, after you and Hanbin were officially dating, Bobby still claimed credit.

Constantly.

Annoyingly.

Relentlessly.

"Without me, none of this would've happened."

"You almost ruined everything."

"But I didn't."

"You confessed for me."

"But it worked."

"You created an office gambling ring."

"But it worked."

"You wrote hearts on my coffee cups."

"But."

He pointed dramatically.

"It worked."

You hated how technically correct he was.

Across the room Hanbin looked up from his laptop.

"You know, he's never letting this go."

"I know."

"He tells everyone he introduced us."

"He didn't."

"He tells everyone he's a romance genius."

"He isn't."

"He made a presentation once."

You froze.

"A what?"

Hanbin winced.

"He has slides."

Of course he had slides.

Somewhere in the building, Bobby sneezed.

Probably because someone was talking about him.

And somehow—

Despite all the embarrassment.

The chaos.

The betting pools.

The accidental confession.

And the fact that he remained the world's worst secret keeper—

You couldn't imagine having a better friend.

Even if he absolutely, definitely, under no circumstances was ever allowed to help with your love life again.

Bobby disagreed.

He already had ideas for helping someone else.