alt 🛸

The sky outside was a moody kind of gray. The kind that sat heavy on your chest, like it was waiting for someone to cry first.

I was curled on top of my bed, knees drawn to my chest, nursing the last sips of a lukewarm iced tea. Eunice sat cross-legged beside me, flipping through a glossy magazine neither of us were really reading.

“He’s probably just busy,” she offered gently.

I gave a weak shrug.

It had been days. Days of nothing.

No typing bubbles. No mysterious late-night hypotheticals. No dumb bug-related questions or dramatic overuse of ellipses.

Silence. From ??. From Min Ho. From everyone.

Eunice didn’t say it outright, but I could see it on her face — she thought they were the same person too.

But neither of us wanted to admit it. Because if we were wrong… If we were right and he’d stopped texting me…

I let my head fall onto her shoulder. “Maybe I imagined it all.”

“You didn’t,” she said. “But even if you did, it was a fun hallucination.”

We both snorted softly, but the quiet stretched. Long enough for the ache to settle back in my ribs.

The door flung open, crashing against the wall.

Jayne stormed in like a hurricane in lip gloss and fury, her hair half-up and chaotic, her eyes wide.

“I cannot believe this,” she snapped.

Eunice and I froze.

Jayne tossed her bag onto the desk and paced twice before turning toward us, completely unaware of our already-heavy hearts.

“He knows how I feel. And yet this is what he does? Seriously?”

I blinked. “What—who are we mad at?”

She looked at me like I’d just asked if Seoul had electricity.

“Min Ho!” she shouted, dramatic as ever. “Obviously Min Ho!”

Eunice shot me a brief look, guarded. Neither of us had told Jayne anything. We couldn’t. Not until we knew for sure. And honestly… I didn’t know anything anymore.

Jayne threw her hands in the air. “I have given that boy so much of my life. My thoughts. My energy. And now this?”

“What happened?” Eunice asked, cautious.

Jayne flopped dramatically into her desk chair. “Leslie told Soo-ah who told me that Aaron saw that new girl, Stella, and Min Ho—kissing.”

My heart didn’t drop.

It freefell.

The room spun slightly. Eunice’s hand found mine on the blanket.

Jayne continued, oblivious. “Like—kissing kissing. Outside the language building. Middle of the afternoon. Not even subtle!”

I tried to keep my face neutral.

Not that Jayne was looking.

She stood again, pacing. “I bet she did that weird baby voice thing she always does. She acts all innocent around people and then bam! kisses someone else’s soulmate!”

Eunice gave me the smallest glance. I didn’t return it.

I was too busy staring at the last text on my phone.

From days ago. Unread since.

?? : do you think we’d still like each other if none of this was anonymous?

And my answer — the one I regretted sending more and more each day.

ME : Min Ho?

It sat there. Delivered.

Unanswered.

Unsaid.

Unfinished.

And now… maybe that was all it would ever be.

Jayne was still going.

Pacing. Ranting. Spitting dramatics like it was her full-time job.

“—and Stella’s not even that pretty. I mean, she’s fine, I guess, if you’re into that whole ‘I read Murakami in public for attention’ thing. But Min Ho wouldn’t really like her. Not really. He likes girls like me. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

I blinked. My hands were shaking now.

Eunice gave me a quiet glance. I could feel the tension in my own shoulders — tight, burning, ready to snap.

“And you know what? I’m not even mad at him,” Jayne continued, voice climbing. “I’m mad at Stella. She manipulatedhim. Like—he would never have kissed her if she hadn’t thrown herself at him like that, she’s just—”

“YOU SPOKE TO HIM ONE FUCKING TIME!” I exploded.

The room went dead quiet.

Jayne stopped mid-step, eyes wide.

“I’ve spoken to him multiple times,” she said quickly, her tone clipped, like that would somehow soften the blow.

I stepped forward, anger hot in my chest. “Oh my god, you’re so delusional.”

Her mouth fell open in indignation.

“You spoke to him once, at that stupid rooftop club,” I snapped. “And if I didn’t know Eunice, if Q hadn’t spilled his drink on me, you wouldn’t have gotten a single word in. You never would have even been near him.”

Jayne blinked, offended. “You don’t know that.”

“I do!” I practically shouted. “You’re not in love with him, Jayne. You’re in love with this idea of him — this fantasy where he’s perfect and you’re perfect and you have four perfect kids and a dog and matching sweaters and a fucking summer house.”

Jayne was silent now. Her pout deepened. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“You don’t matter to him,” I finished, voice low and shaking.

She didn’t say anything.

Didn’t move.

Just stared like I’d physically hit her.

I didn’t wait.

I turned and shoved my shoes on, grabbing my coat. I needed air, distance — anything that wasn’t the too-pink walls of our dorm or Jayne’s offended silence.

As I pulled open the door, I heard Jayne gasp faintly behind me. “Eunice—?”

There was a pause.

A long one.

Then I heard the scrape of a chair, the shuffle of steps.

And Eunice’s voice: calm, soft, unflinching.

“She’s not wrong,” she said. “And… I’m really only her friend.”

I looked back just long enough to see Eunice grab both our phones off the desk, sling her bag over her shoulder, and walk past Jayne without another word.

She joined me in the hall.

Neither of us said anything as the door shut behind us with a soft, satisfying click.

But my lungs finally felt full.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We sat on the grass outside the building, the cool blades tickling my calves through my jeans, Eunice beside me with her knees pulled up to her chest. The air smelled like spring and something soft — like someone down the path was lighting a scented candle in their dorm window. The sun was low, casting golden light across the lawn, stretching the shadows long and quiet.

Neither of us spoke for a while. I was too busy trying to untangle the heat still buzzing beneath my skin, and Eunice just stared up at the slow-moving clouds.

Finally, she broke the silence. “Were you too harsh on her?”

I picked at the hem of my sleeve. “Maybe.”

“She had it coming,” she added, but there wasn’t any real bite in her voice. Just tiredness. “Still. That was brutal.”

“I know.” I exhaled through my nose. “But I was just… done. I’ve held my tongue for so long, Eunice. She’s been spiraling over a guy she doesn’t even know, acting like he owes her something.”

Eunice nodded, her chin now resting on her knees. “She’s delusional.”

“She’s my best friend.”

Eunice tilted her head. “She was.”

I winced. “That’s the part that hurts.”

“She hasn’t asked you about your life in weeks,” she said. “And don’t even get me started on how she treats me. Honestly, I think she just likes having people around who orbit her.”

I fell back onto the grass with a groan, arms flopping dramatically out to the side. “And now I’ve exploded at her and it’s all ruined. And I still don’t even know if it’s him.”

Eunice lay down beside me. “It’s him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” she said, turning her head to look at me. “It’s Min Ho.”

“I just… why hasn’t he texted?”

“Maybe he’s scared.”

I turned my head too. “Of what?”

“Same thing you are.” She shrugged. “That it’s real.”

The sky above us was streaked in soft pinks and peaches, like someone had brushed past with a watercolor palette.

“It felt real when we were walking back from the cafe,” I whispered.

Eunice’s mouth tugged into a tiny smile. “You were glowing when you came back. I thought maybe it was sunburn.”

I laughed under my breath, then closed my eyes. “Maybe I’m the delusional one. What if it isn’t him?”

She paused. “Then someone out there still made you laugh every day for weeks, and feel less alone. That’s not nothing.”

I stayed quiet. The sky kept dimming.

“But,” Eunice added, “if it is him… you already know how he makes you feel. And I think he feels it too.”

The dorm door creaked open, and we both looked up as someone stormed out. It was Jayne.

She didn’t look at us.

Eunice raised her eyebrows at me, then nudged my shoulder. “You okay?”

“No.”

“You want me to go inside and steal her hair mask in revenge?”

That got a weak laugh out of me. “God, no.”

“Well,” she sighed, “then I’ll sit here until you’re ready to go inside.”

We stayed on the grass a while longer, the sun slipping down past the rooftops, the sky darkening to lavender and then blue. And in the quiet between us, I thought about what Eunice said.

What if I wasn’t wrong?

What if it was him?

And what if… that changed everything?

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The classroom buzzed with quiet conversation, chairs scraping against the floor and backpacks unzipping. The usual morning shuffle. I slipped into my seat by the window, sliding my notebook and pen onto the desk even though I wasn’t sure I’d use either.

Jayne hadn’t come back last night.

Or this morning.

I knew she was probably in the dorm now, brushing her hair out in the mirror like nothing happened, maybe humming, maybe sulking. She wouldn’t want to see me. I didn’t want to see her either.

“Morning,” Dae said, dropping into the seat next to me like he always did now, a little out of breath like he’d just made it in time.

I smiled, quick and automatic. “Hey.”

He gave me a look — the kind people give when they know you’re lying through your teeth but they’re polite enough not to say it out loud.

“You okay?” he asked, tapping his pen against his desk.

I shrugged, eyes on the front of the classroom. “I’m here.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I glanced at him. His expression wasn’t pushy, just… open. Patient.

And still, the words almost caught in my throat.

I fiddled with the edge of my sleeve. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you…” I hesitated, then dropped my voice. “Has Min Ho said anything? About… I don’t know. Stuff?”

Dae raised his eyebrows slightly. “Stuff.”

“Yeah. Just…” I let out a sigh. “Never mind.”

But Dae didn’t laugh it off or wave it away. He leaned in slightly, elbows on the desk, like he was weighing what he could say and what he shouldn’t.

“He’s been… weird,” Dae admitted. “Quieter. Always on his phone. Jumpy sometimes.”

My heart thumped, sharp and sudden.

“I don’t know what it’s about,” he added, “but he’s definitely got something going on. He won’t say, though. Which usually means it’s personal.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, nodded. “Okay.”

Dae nudged my arm with the side of his fist. “You want me to ask?”

“No,” I said quickly. “No. Just… if he ever talks about it, let me know?”

He nodded, simple and sincere. “Of course.”

The professor started speaking then, dimming the lights and launching into a slideshow none of us were truly prepared for.

But as the lecture began, I barely registered the words on the screen. I stared ahead, silent, feeling the weight of too many maybes.

Because maybe Min Ho hadn’t said anything.

Maybe he was scared.

Maybe he was pretending it didn’t mean anything, the walk from the café, the fries, the text messages.

Maybe he wasn’t pretending at all. But something inside me stirred — soft and persistent — telling me that we were standing on the edge of something. And that soon, one of us would have to leap.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The café looked the same.

Same flickering lamp in the corner, same creaky stool by the window that dipped too far to the left, same ivy plant hanging over the cracked brick wall.

I sat at the table by the window — our table, though he wouldn’t call it that — headphones in, music low, the world muffled like I was underwater. My iced Americano was already sweating through its paper sleeve, the condensation dripping onto the wooden surface in tiny, silver pools.

I watched it run, drip by drip. Slow. Thoughtless.

Skipping class wasn’t the plan. But I hadn’t meant to sit through an hour of notes and pretend like everything inside me wasn’t falling apart in the quietest way possible.

I’d tried to wait. I had waited.

But the silence was eating me alive.

I slipped my phone from my pocket and opened the thread — the one that hadn’t lit up in days. The name still read “??” because I never dared to change it. Not even after I was almost sure. Not even after he’d texted me about bugs and girls and feelings.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Then, slowly, I typed:

ME: are you upset with me?

I pressed send.

The message blinked.

Failed to deliver.

My stomach sank, but I tried again:

ME: was I wrong

Failed to deliver.

ME: did you change your number

Failed to deliver.

ME: hello?

Failed to deliver.

The screen stared back at me, empty and silent.

Just like him.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I’d been alone in my dorm for a week now.

No run-ins with Q or Kitty, thankfully. Dae had stayed quiet, didn’t pester me in class. Yuri was confused but sweet — she brought me food twice after Julianna must’ve mentioned I wasn’t feeling great. Julianna and Eunice had stayed over one night, curled on the floor in hoodies and half-hearted comfort. I sent them home before sunrise. I just… needed to be in my own head a little longer.

It was 1 a.m. when I heard the door click open. The metallic jangle of keys, the gentle creak of the hinges. I stayed still, pulled the blanket over my head, as if I could hide inside the dark warmth of it forever.

Jayne was trying to be quiet — her shoes off by the door, breath held as she tiptoed to her bed. She tried to be quiet, slipping into the room like a ghost. But I could feel the weight of her presence. The silence between us throbbed.

I mumbled from beneath the blanket, “I’m really sorry.”

There was a long pause before I heard the creak of her mattress and a tired sigh.

“…Me too,” she whispered.

I peeled the blanket back, blinking in the dim light from the window spilling through. Jayne was sitting on the edge of her bed, her arms resting on her knees.

For a second, it was quiet. Still.

Then she asked, “Do you like Min Ho?”

I froze. I hadn’t expected her to say it — not so plainly, not so gently.

I looked at her, throat tight. “…Yeah,” I said. “I think I do.”

She didn’t flinch. Just nodded once, like it confirmed something she’d already figured out.

“It’s okay,” she said, barely above a whisper.

I swallowed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I swear, I didn’t want to—”

“I know,” she cut in. “I was angry because it felt like you had something I’d never get. But he… he doesn’t look at me like that. He never did.”

I let the silence wrap around us. It didn’t feel heavy this time. Just… honest.

Jayne leaned back on her elbows and stared up at the ceiling. “It sucks,” she said. “But I guess… I always knew it was in my head. The idea of him.”

I whispered, “I think he might be the one I was texting. The number.”

Jayne turned to me, brows raised. “Wait. Seriously?”

I nodded, cheeks flushing. “I don’t know for sure. But I think… yeah.”

She stared at me for a long moment, then let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “This is so stupidly romantic I kind of want to puke.”

I laughed too, shoulders relaxing for the first time in days. “Same.”

Jayne smiled faintly. “Do me a favor?”

“Yeah?”

“Just… if it’s him… make sure it’s real. Not just what you want it to be.”

I nodded. “I will.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, we went to sleep without anything left unsaid.

Jayne and I soft-smiled for a second, the kind of small, tentative smile you give someone after a storm passes but the air’s still thick with everything unsaid.

Then she groaned and flopped back dramatically onto her bed, hands over her face.

“I should have guessed he wanted you,” she said, muffled by her palms. “I mean, he was like—locked in. Sniper-level focused on looking at you when we were at Noir. I saw him put his arm around your waist! And oh my god—”

She suddenly sat upright, wild-eyed. “He was sitting next to you and I sat between you! I’m so sorry, UGHHHHH!” She collapsed again, dragging her hands down her face in theatrical despair.

I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. I sat up too, brushing my hair back from my face. “It’s not a big deal,” I said with a shrug.

“Yes, it is,” she whined. “I was so far up my own fantasy I didn’t even see it. You poor thing. You were like… in it. And I was just out here blocking passes like a goalie on caffeine.”

I snorted. “Jayne—”

She rolled over to face me, eyes wide with renewed energy. “So. Tell me everything. Come on. I want the full Min Ho debrief. Start from the beginning. The texts. Noir. The one Shirtless Saturday. I want details. I’m about to live vicariously and I’m ready.”

I hugged my knees, blushing already. “You really want to hear it?”

Jayne nodded with all the seriousness of someone about to binge a new show. “Y/N. This is my Super Bowl. Go.”

I sighed, half-laughing, and finally let myself lean in.

“Well… it started with that bad date. And a wrong number…”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Min Ho stared at the glow of his phone in the dark, lying flat on his back, arm draped over his forehead like he was trying to hold the ceiling up with sheer will.

The screen lit his face with a sick sort of hope as he stared at the last message he sent:

ME: How long have you known?

Undelivered.

He sat up, thumb hovering.

Still nothing.

He scrolled.

ME: I hoped we'd find each other. I didn't know who I wanted this number to be, but you're so different, Y/N. I wish I hadn't been such an idiot and noticed you sooner instead of wasting my time looking for things that wouldn’t go anywhere when I can feel something with you. I like you as the mystery girl that I dream of and makes me rely on a working phone charger, I like you as the girl that I see across campus with my friends laughing and smiling. I wish I could have said this to you normally, over coffee, while I could reach for your hand. But I’ve felt like it was you since I first saw you in those neon club lights and your roommate dragged me away. I feel seen as myself when I’m talking to you, no matter the situation.

Not delivered.

ME: Please don’t do this.

Not delivered.

ME: Did I wait too long? Or do you just not like knowing who I am?

Not delivered.

He clenched the phone in his fist.

Blocked. She blocked him. Or changed her number. Or deleted it all. Or maybe… Maybe she found someone else.

Maybe she sent the "Min Ho?" and felt nothing. Maybe saying his name ruined the magic.

He laid back down and closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. Just that same sick ache that had crawled under his ribs all week and made everything—class, practice, hanging out with the guys—feel like background noise.

He hadn’t seen her. Not really. He’d kept his head down. Ducking out of rooms when Julianna or Eunice appeared. Walking the long way to avoid the dorms he knew too well. Yuri kept asking what was up and he just said tired.

He was more than tired. He was wrecked.

When Stella had kissed him outside the library—just one dumb moment, one second of his attention slipping—he’d felt like he was cheating on a girl he wasn’t even dating.

He’d pulled away like she burned him.

And the worst part? Y/N would hear about that kiss. Of course she would.

He deserved to be blocked.

He held the phone to his chest, screen still glowing. Still undelivered. Still unanswered.

Still her.

Min Ho sat on the edge of his bed, shoulders hunched, phone slack in his hand like it had betrayed him. The screen was dark now, but the last message still burned in his mind—undelivered, just like all the others.

His head dipped low, fingertips pressing into his temple like he could force the ache out.

Behind him, Dae stirred.

“Dude?” Dae’s voice was gravelled with sleep, half mumbled as he sat up and blinked against the dark. “Are you okay?”

Min Ho didn’t move. Just stared at the floor.

Dae rubbed at his eyes, watching him. “You’ve been weird all week.”

Min Ho finally spoke, voice quiet, flat. “I messed up.”

Dae frowned, trying to shake off the last haze of sleep. “What does that mean?”

Min Ho’s thumb ran over the edge of his phone. “There was… someone. I was talking to someone. And it was easy. Weird, but good. And then I waited too long to say what I should’ve said. And now it’s just—” He gave a humorless laugh, bitter and self-directed. “Gone.”

Dae tilted his head. “You mean Y/N?”

Min Ho’s head snapped toward him. “What?”

Dae blinked. “What?” he echoed. “You just said you were talking to someone. And you’ve been avoiding her like she’s radioactive. You think I didn’t notice?”

Min Ho exhaled, dragging his fingers through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”

Dae narrowed his eyes. “Did you do something?”

“No.” “Yes.” “...Kind of.”

“Okay, that’s not helping.”

Min Ho dropped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling like it might offer divine guidance. “She must have seen me with Stella.”

Dae winced. “Damn.”

“She kissed me. I didn’t kiss her back.” He paused. “Didn’t even want it. But it looked bad.”

“And that’s why you’ve been walking the long way around campus and eating lunch in here?”

Min Ho didn’t answer.

Dae sighed. “Do you like her?”

Min Ho closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Then fix it.”

“I don’t think I can fix it.”

Dae raised a brow. “You sure you didn’t do something worse than kissing?”

Min Ho hesitated, voice quieter now.

"She was asking about you.” Dae glanced at him. “Y/N asked if you'd said anything. Like… if you had told me something.” Min Ho's fingers curled around his phone again. “That was a few days ago. And instead of talking to her, you’ve just been sitting here reading your own messages like a tragic poet”

Min Ho didn’t respond. The silence hung, full and heavy.

Dae sat up again, more awake now. “If she was asking about you, she’s not done with you. You’re the one hiding.”

Min Ho looked down. “I think she blocked me.”

“Then go talk to her.”

Min Ho swallowed. “What if she really doesn’t want to hear from me?”

“Then you’ll know. But right now, you’re making yourself miserable over a guess.” Dae tossed a pillow at him. “Fix it. Don’t let it sit like this.”

Min Ho didn’t smile. But this time, he stood.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I was hiding in the library. Or, studying. But mostly hiding.

The thick silence wrapped around me like a second hoodie. My laptop screen glowed with a half-written paragraph I’d read twelve times without absorbing a single word. I stared through it, headphones in but no music playing.

The library was nearly silent, the kind of silence that felt heavy. Final-week heavy. The kind of silence where even the shuffle of a backpack sounded like a scream.

I didn’t hear him approach.

But I heard the thud when a book dropped onto my table.

I looked up.

Min Ho.

His face was unreadable. He stood there, just looking at me—like he was trying to memorize every version of me he hadn’t been able to see this past week.

He opened his mouth.

“Shhh,” came a sharp hiss from the next row.

We both flinched, and he slowly sat across from me, dragging the chair out as quietly as possible.

I didn’t say anything. Not at first.

Not until I saw the way his hands were clenched on top of the table. The way his eyes kept flicking to my phone like it owed him answers.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice low but ice-edged.

He blinked. “I—”

“You blocked me,” I said flatly.

His brows shot up. “What? No. I thought you—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” he said sharply, his voice cracking under restraint. “Y/N, I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I tried to text you,” I snapped. “Do you know how stupid I felt sending messages to someone who clearly didn’t care?”

His mouth parted. “You texted me?”

I stared at him. At his stupid perfect face. At the way he sat there like he had any right to just show up after all of this — like I hadn’t been tearing myself up over messages that wouldn’t deliver and nights I couldn’t sleep.

My hand moved on its own. I didn’t shove the phone across the table. I shoved it into my bag.

I stood abruptly, the legs of my chair scraping hard against the floor. A few heads turned. I didn’t care.

Min Ho’s eyes widened as I started packing up — violently. My notebook snapped shut. My pen nearly bent in my hand.

“Y/N,” he said, standing too. “Wait—”

I was already walking.

I pushed the door open with too much force and marched down the front steps of the library. The cold hit me, but it didn’t matter. Not when I heard his footsteps behind me.

“Y/N!” he called.

I turned, spinning so fast he nearly ran into me.

“You don’t get to pretend like this is all normal,” I hissed. “You don’t get to come into the library like we’re fine, like you didn’t ignore me for a week while I thought I was going insane.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you!” he shot back. “My messages weren’t delivering either—”

“So what? You just gave up?” My voice rose, sharp, raw. “You didn’t try to find me, Min Ho. You just decided I was done with you and went back to being... being you.”

His jaw clenched. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I heard about you. With her.” My throat burned. “And it felt like being slapped in the face with every stupid feeling I thought meant something.”

“I didn’t kiss Stella!” he shouted.

“Oh, great!” I snapped. “So you accidentally let her kiss you while you were thinking about me? That’s so much better!”

“I felt like I was cheating, okay?” he barked, stepping closer. “I felt sick because I thought I’d lost you, and she was just there and everything was wrong—”

“You don’t get to play the victim here!”

“I’m not,” he said, voice suddenly quieter. “I’m just... trying to explain. And I get it — I fucked up. I waited too long to say anything. But I swear to you, I didn’t stop thinking about you for one second.”

I froze. The wind brushed past us like it, too, had been holding its breath.

Min Ho looked at me like it hurt to keep going but worse to stop.

“You were the one I hoped it was,” he said, voice hoarse. “I hoped it was you, and when I found out it was, I panicked because I didn’t think I deserved you anymore.”

I stared at him. At his flushed cheeks, his wild eyes, the tension in his shoulders.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

He nodded slowly. “That’s fair.”

“I hate that you made me feel something,” I said, louder now. “And I hate that I still do.”

He stepped forward. “Then yell at me.”

“What?”

“Yell. Scream. Hit me, I don’t care. Just... don’t walk away again.”

I blinked. My chest heaved with everything I wanted to say and couldn’t. “I should,” I said. “I should walk away.”

“But you won’t,” he said quietly.

The air pulsed between us, full of all the things we hadn’t said, hadn’t dared to say. My throat was tight. “Why not?”

His eyes searched mine. “Because you feel it too.”

That was it. That single, quiet truth — said out loud — shattered something in me.

“I don’t want to,” I breathed.

“I know.”

“I tried not to.”

“Me too.”

The silence between us deepened, trembling like it might break open into something worse.

“I kept checking my phone,” I whispered. “Over and over. I thought you blocked me.”

Min Ho looked stricken. “I thought you blocked me. I thought I messed it all up—”

“You did!” I cried, stepping forward, voice cracking. “You ruined everything. And you just let me believe that I was crazy. You let me think I made this whole thing up in my head.”

“I didn’t know how to fix it,” he said, hands gripping his sides. “I didn’t know how to come back from it.”

“Try,” I snapped. “Try now.”

Min Ho blinked, stunned. Then slowly, he took one step toward me. Then another. Close now — so close I could see the way his lashes trembled when he blinked, the pink still in his cheeks from yelling.

“I didn’t want to ruin whatever this was,” he said. “I thought if I stayed quiet long enough, it would go away. The feelings. The guilt. The timing. You.”

He let out a shaky breath. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I think about you when I wake up, when I fall asleep, when I walk past that café and I still remember the way you looked that day — like you belonged there more than I ever would. Like I was just lucky to pass through your orbit.”

My chest burned. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might bruise itself.

“I wasn’t supposed to like you,” I said. “You were supposed to be this dumb, pretty boy that Jayne liked and who didn’t even see me—”

“I saw you,” he said, his voice breaking.

I blinked.

He swallowed, then said it again. “I saw you. At that club. On the rooftop. At the café. Every time I ran into you, it felt like the universe was trying to make a point, and I was too much of a coward to listen.”

I stared at him, everything inside me aching with wanting and fear and fury and longing.

“Do you like me?” I asked. My voice was so small it barely made it out.

Min Ho nodded, a breath of laughter escaping even as his eyes stayed soft and serious. “I think I’ve liked you since you trauma-dumped about a crypto scammer date, honestly.”

That cracked something in me — a short, disbelieving laugh escaping through my tears. “You’re such an idiot,” I whispered, voice shaking.

“I know,” he said, stepping even closer. “But I like you. As the girl who ranted about dating disasters. As the girl who texts like she’s writing a secret diary. As the girl who sat alone with coffee and croissants and made the city look slower just by being in it.”

My chest pulled tight. My hands trembled at my sides.

“And I think you like me too,” he said again, gentler now.

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. I was still too full of everything he made me feel.

Then, like before, he added quietly, “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll walk away. You’ll never have to see me again.”

I stared at him, breath shallow, heart pounding, the whole world narrowed to the two of us under this too-bright sky.

And I didn’t tell him he was wrong.

I just whispered:

“You’re not.”

We stood there in the soft, humming silence of the afternoon. Not quite smiling. Not quite breathing.

It should’ve felt like relief. Like something falling into place.

But instead, there was just… this fragile stillness between us. Me, too aware of how close he was. Him, fidgeting slightly like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words.

“So,” I said, voice breaking the quiet. “Now what?”

Min Ho scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I thought maybe this would feel… less terrifying.”

“Right?” I said, almost laughing. “This is the weirdest online-friendship meeting ending.”

He gave a half-smile, then looked down at the ground. “Can I ask something?”

I nodded.

“Why’d you stop texting me?” he asked, and there was something quietly vulnerable in it. “After you said my name?”

“I didn’t,” I said quickly. “You stopped texting me.”

“No, I—” He blinked. “I thought you blocked me. I tried to message you a bunch of times, but nothing went through.”

I furrowed my brows. “Same. I thought you blocked me.”

Min Ho reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Okay, wait, what number do you have saved for—” he stopped himself, then hesitated before asking, “...Me?”

I pulled mine out too, suddenly nervous. We compared screens side by side.

We both stood in this delicate, electric tension — phones in our hands now, hearts somewhere between our throats and the floor.

“Wait,” I said, squinting at my screen. “Let me try sending something again.”

I typed a quick “Hi?” and hit send.

Nothing.

“No delivery,” I muttered. “Still.”

“Let me check something,” Min Ho said, his voice low. He opened up his messages, brows furrowing as he scrolled. “Wait—what the—”

He tapped something, went quiet. Then he turned his screen toward me.

A tiny red Blocked Contact banner hovered at the top of the message thread.

My name.

Blocked.

I stared at it, a hot sting building behind my eyes.

“Oh,” I said, quietly.

“What—no. No, I didn’t do that,” he said immediately, shaking his head like trying to physically undo it. “Y/N, I swear. I didn’t block you.”

“You literally—”

“I didn’t!” he stepped forward, his voice sharper, desperate. “Why would I? Why would I pour my heart out and say the dumbest, most vulnerable things I’ve ever said in my life, and then block you?”

He looked genuinely panicked now, thumbing at the screen like it could explain itself.

“I don’t even remember doing it. I must’ve—” He paused. “I don’t know, maybe when I thought you hated me. I was spiraling, I thought you'd ghosted me because you figured it out and wanted nothing to do with me.”

“And I thought you were the one ghosting,” I said, barely holding in everything. “I thought you saw it was me and just… cut it off.”

His expression cracked open. “God. No. I’ve been avoiding you because I was sure I ruined everything. Because Stella kissed me and I felt like I was cheating on someone I wasn’t even dating.”

That hit something deep in me.

“You blocked me,” I said again, quieter. “And I still kept waiting.”

He exhaled, stepping even closer. “I swear, if I’d known… I would’ve run to you. I wouldn’t have let a single day go by. I didn’t mean to push you away.”

There was silence.

Then, just barely, I said: “Unblock me.”

He did it instantly, and for a second, we just… stood there.

Everything was still tight in my chest, but it had loosened — just enough for something lighter to slip through.

I glanced at him, arms crossed. “You’re like… weirdly romantic, you know that?”

His brow lifted. “Weirdly romantic?”

“Not in the way your fan club thinks,” I clarified quickly. “More like… you’re a loser who accidentally flirts really well.”

He scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Excuse me—”

“Like, it’s not even intentional half the time, which honestly makes it worse.”

“You’re just mad I’m naturally charming.”

“You’re not,” I said, shoving his arm lightly with the back of my hand. “You’re just accidentally good at it in a way that makes people emotionally spiral.”

He smirked. “At least I’ve never launched a bagel at someone’s head.”

I froze. “That was one time.”

“Once is enough,” he said, smug. “It was a bagel, Y/N. Not a grenade.”

“I was aiming for the trash can!”

“You hit a priest.”

“You’re literally the worst,” I laughed, trying to hide the fact that I was also smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.

He nudged my foot with his. “You like me though.”

We stood there on the sidewalk outside the library, dusk settling in slow around us, and for the first time in weeks, something in me felt lighter. Not fixed — not yet — but real.

Like maybe we could get there.

Together.

We stood there a moment longer, the banter fading into a quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable—just expectant.

Min Ho cleared his throat, shifting his weight like he was preparing for a high-stakes performance. “So, um…”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I was just thinking,” he started, and immediately I knew he wasn’t just thinking. He was spiraling. “Tomorrow… are you—would you want to go for coffee?”

I blinked. “Like we did last time? Or do you mean as in—”

He rushed out, “As in a date. Like, I mean—unless you don’t want to call it that. It doesn’t have to be—well, it is, but—”

I bit back a smile. “Min Ho.”

He shut up immediately.

I stepped just a little closer. “I’d like that.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath since 2019. “Cool. Cool. That’s—cool.”

“You said ‘cool’ three times.”

“I panicked.”

I laughed softly, heart doing something traitorous in my chest again.

Min Ho tugged at the strap of his bag like it might ground him. “So. Tomorrow?”

I nodded. “Tomorrow.”

And when we finally walked off in opposite directions, I didn’t stop smiling until I got to my door.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The dorm smelled like hairspray, lip gloss, and perfume.

Yuri was dancing around in an oversized hoodie and biker shorts, holding up outfit options like a stylist under pressure on a reality show. “This skirt says ‘I’m effortlessly pretty’ but this one says ‘kiss me under string lights.’ What’s the vibe we’re going for?”

“I just want to look like I didn’t try,” I said, even though six people were actively trying for me.

“Too late,” Eunice muttered, carefully blending something shimmery on my cheekbone. “You’re about three TikToks away from soft glam royalty.”

Kitty groaned from across the room. “Q, you don’t know anything about shoes!”

Q gasped. “How dare you? I know Min Ho. And Min Ho would one hundred percent notice these shoes.” He dramatically held up a pair of sleek, black platform loafers like they were a sacred offering.

Jayne rolled her eyes, already on her knees digging through my closet. “He’s a boots guy. Trust me. Ankle boots with a little heel—deadly combo.”

“He’s a ‘whatever she’s wearing, he’s obsessed with it’ guy,” Julianna called from behind me, fingers weaving gently through my hair. “God, your hair is so silky, I feel like I’m braiding a shampoo commercial.”

“I’m gonna throw up,” I said.

Yuri laughed. “You’re going on a date, not to war.”

“Same difference.”

“Can I please pick the shoes?” Q whined.

“No!” Kitty and Jayne said in unison, both lunging for the same pair of boots.

Eunice leaned down so we were eye level. “You ready?”

I looked at myself in the mirror—flushed cheeks, soft lashes, hair tucked perfectly behind one ear. My heart was hammering but somehow I looked calm. I looked like a girl who might, possibly, survive a date with Min Ho.

“I think so.”

“You look hot,” Julianna confirmed.

“You look like you’re going to ruin him,” Jayne added proudly.

“And,” Q said, holding up the shoes he was still championing, “these would make him cry. Just saying.”

“I’m vetoing the denim skirt,” Kitty announced, arms crossed. “It’s giving class presentation, not date with a guy apparently secretly who writes poetic texts in the dark.”

“Okay, but this dress?” Yuri held it up reverently. “This screams ‘I didn’t mean to be irresistible but here we are.’”

“Too obvious,” Julianna countered. “She needs to look like she stumbled out of a French film and accidentally ruined his whole year.”

Eunice pulled a silky top from the pile. “Pair this with the trousers she wore to that art gallery party. Minimalist. Chic. Emotionally devastating.”

“Emotionally devastating,” Kitty repeated, nodding solemnly. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

Q held up a neon green sweater with rhinestone stars. “What about a pop of personality?”

“Absolutely not,” all four girls said in perfect unison.

Q scoffed. “You guys are allergic to fun.”

“Fun doesn’t mean blinding someone at thirty paces,” Jayne said, snatching the sweater from his hands and throwing it behind the bed like it had offended her ancestors.

Y/N was still frozen in the middle of the chaos, arms slightly raised as shirts and shoes flew around her like a tornado of fabric. “Am I even allowed to have input in this?”

“No,” Kitty said gently. “You’re the canvas.”

“We’re the artists,” Yuri added, kicking aside a pile of rejected skirts.

“I’m literally the one dating him,” Y/N said.

“Which means you have the worst judgment of all,” Q muttered.

“That’s it.” Julianna snapped her fingers. “Black wide-leg trousers, cream top with that square neckline, gold hoops. Hair down, effortless waves. Those ankle boots Jayne’s been hoarding like a dragon.”

Jayne held them close to her chest. “They’re my children.”

“Well, one of your children is going to help this girl make Min Ho forget how to breathe,” Eunice said.

“Okay, this is it,” Kitty declared, clapping. “Now everyone get out except me, Eunice, and Julianna. Q, you’re making her sweat with your nervous pacing.”

“I’m not nervous—”

“Out!” the girls all shouted, pointing toward the door.

Q threw his hands up. “Fine. But if he compliments her eyeliner, I taught her that wing.”

“You didn’t!” Eunice shouted as she shoved him into the hallway and slammed the door behind him.

Silence.

Y/N stood in the center of the now-messy dorm, blinking. “So… this is really happening.”

Julianna handed her the final outfit and grinned. “Oh, it’s happening.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Q opened the dorm door and immediately paused. “…What the hell is happening in here.”

The boys’ dorm looked like a war zone. Not a normal messy room — a tornado made of cologne bottles, rejected shirts, and hair product had ripped through it. Clothes were everywhere. Towels. An open steamer hissed from the coffee table. A brush sat abandoned next to a half-spilled jar of pomade.

And in the middle of it all, Dae was on the couch, completely unfazed, calmly eating cereal from a mixing bowl like he was in a spa commercial.

Min Ho sprinted past behind him, barefoot, bathrobe clinging to him and a towel wrapped turban-style around his head.

“I CAN’T FIND MY MOISTURIZER WITH SPF!”

Q just blinked. “You own, like, seven moisturizers.”

“Exactly!” Min Ho shouted, reappearing from behind the fridge like he’d considered refrigerating one. “I don’t know which one gives me the ‘I drink water and write under a full moon’ glow and which one makes me look like a sweaty ghost!”

Dae took another bite of cereal. “They all make you shiny. You’ll be fine.”

“I’m meeting up with Y/N. I can’t just look fine, Dae. I have to look like she regrets every minute she spent not kissing me!”

“Okay, relax Casanova,” Q said, kicking a pile of button-ups out of the way to get to the couch. “Have you picked an outfit yet?”

Min Ho pointed at the wall where several outfits were thumbtacked like a fashion conspiracy board. “I have five contenders. But I can’t wear anything black or she’ll think I’m trying too hard.”

“You’re literally trying this hard,” Dae muttered.

Q squinted at the wall. “You wore this one to that influencer dinner.”

“Dae said she once called that shirt smug,” Min Ho snapped. “That I looked like someone who pretended to read Hemingway but actually just followed bookstagram accounts.”

“I mean… are you mad because it’s wrong?” Q asked, not even looking up from his phone.

Min Ho flopped face-first into a pile of sweaters and groaned dramatically. “What if she doesn’t even show up?”

“She will,” Dae said. “She was asking about you.”

That got Min Ho to lift his head, hope cautiously blooming behind his eye patches.

“She was?”

Dae nodded. “Kind of in a ‘tell me everything you know or I’ll steal your organs’ way, but yeah.”

Min Ho sat up straighter. “Okay. Okay. Deep breath. Casual shirt. A little cologne but not date cologne. Hair effortless but not messy.” He paused. “Wait. Do I look like I care?”

“You look like you’ve just done skincare for your skincare,” Q said.

“Perfect,” Min Ho grinned.

Then immediately panicked again. “WAIT — WHICH SHOES?!”

Q caught a sneaker thrown in his direction and sighed. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

Min Ho was standing shirtless in front of the mirror, towel still on his head, holding two very similar button-downs and glaring at his reflection like it had personally betrayed him.

“Q,” he barked, “do I look more emotionally available in the navy or the oatmeal?”

Q didn’t look up from his phone. “What emotion are you trying to be available for, exactly?”

“I want her to think I’m confident but also like I’d cry if she asked me about my childhood.”

Dae, still unmoved on the couch, said without looking up, “Then wear a turtleneck.”

“IT’S JUNE, DAE.”

Min Ho threw one of the shirts across the room and let out a disgusted scoff. It landed on the lamp. The lamp fell.

Q finally put his phone down, sighing as he stood. “Okay. Emergency fashion triage. Let’s go.”

Min Ho spun to him like a Victorian woman who’d just been asked to dance. “Do I go with the boots that say ‘I respect you’ or the sneakers that say ‘I won’t ghost you’?”

Q held up both pairs. “These say ‘I live on Pinterest,’ and these say ‘I peaked in high school.’ Pick your poison.”

Min Ho dragged a hand down his face. “I should cancel. I should tell her I got tuberculosis. Or food poisoning. Or tuberculosis from food poisoning.”

“Or you could,” Dae said, sipping his cereal milk, “go on your date like a normal person instead of staging a Broadway musical in the hallway.”

Min Ho dramatically dropped into a squat, hands clasped like he was praying to the ceiling. “She thinks I blocked her, Dae.”

“Did you?”

“NO!” Min Ho popped back up. “My phone glitched or some cosmic being is trying to humble me for being too hot or something, but I didn’t block her.”

“You also didn’t tell her for a week,” Q added, flinging the now-fixed lamp back upright. “So.”

Min Ho pointed dramatically at Q. “That’s not helpful. I’m in my Shakespearean tragic love story, and you’re giving me tax accountant energy.”

“I’m giving you ‘hurry up or you’ll be late’ energy.”

Min Ho checked the time and froze. “OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO BE LATE.”

He sprinted to the bathroom, towel falling off his head, leaving a trail of wet footprints, rejected moisturisers, and unhinged muttering in his wake.

Q ran a hand though his hair.

"How was it at Y/N's?" Dae asked

"Like a calm chaos, not this havoc that's happened here clearly. They made tea, it was nice. The disaster prince needs to finally leave the dorm and head to his date, which he is definitely over-accessorised for."

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The knock came exactly one minute after the playlist ended.

We froze.

Kitty let out a sound like a squeal and a gasp had a baby. Julianna’s mascara wand halted mid-air. Jayne ducked behind the kitchen island like we were being raided, and Eunice grabbed my shoulders.

“That’s him, right?” she whispered, as if Min Ho could hear us through the walls.

“I don’t know!” I hissed. “Probably?”

“He knocked,” Kitty said, ducking beside Jayne, “so it’s not food delivery unless the sushi guy’s hot now.”

“Focus,” Julianna barked, tucking a loose strand behind my ear and spinning me toward the door like I was a doll she was about to send to prom.

I stood there, paralyzed.

“You’re ready,” Eunice said. “You're radiant. You look like the soft-focus end of a coming-of-age movie. Go open the damn door.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” I muttered.

Jayne popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “If you throw up on your date, I’m retiring from friendship out of secondhand embarrassment.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

The knock came again. Firm. Polite. Too polite.

The knock echoed through the dorm again, and every girl in the kitchen ducked as if the FBI was at the door.

“I swear to god if one of you breathes too loud—” I hissed, already making my way toward the door.

Eunice tugged my arm. “Wait—lip gloss.”

She dabbed a final touch onto my bottom lip like a painter finishing a canvas. Behind her, Julianna crouched in combat boots, clutching a brush like a weapon. Kitty and Jayne were whisper-arguing about shoe theory again, and I was half-certain someone had opened a window to spy out through the blinds.

I took a breath. And opened the door.

Min Ho stood there.

Button-down shirt, casual but crisp. Rolled sleeves. He looked like he’d practiced not looking like he tried, which meant he definitely had. Hair still slightly damp like he’d sprinted to make it in time, a nervous, crooked smile twitching at his mouth.

“Hi,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Hi.”

We stared for a second.

“I wasn’t sure what to wear,” he said finally. “I changed, like, five times. Pretty sure I’m overdressed.”

I tilted my head. “You’re fine. You… look good.”

His smile flickered wider, teeth showing now, but his eyes were still doing that scanning thing like he was trying to memorize this moment.

From the kitchen: a single cough, followed by a loud whisper of “SHHHH.”

Min Ho blinked.

“Is your room haunted?” he asked.

“Only by the living,” I muttered, grabbing my coat from the hook by the door. “The girls are behind the kitchen island.”

“Of course they are.”

I stepped out, gently shutting the door behind me, trying to ignore the squeal I definitely heard the second it clicked shut.

We stood in the hallway, just the two of us now. There was a weird kind of quiet between us—comfortable, but charged. Like we were still feeling around for the edges of something new.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I said.

Min Ho rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sure you’d want me to.”

“I mean,” I said, giving him a look, “you did accidentally block me.”

He groaned. “I swear I didn’t. Why would I say all that stuff and then block you?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Men are weird.”

“Okay, fair.”

We started walking slowly toward the stairs, arms close but not touching.

“Wait,” I said suddenly. “I just realised—you were at the club that night. So, when I was ranting to you over text you were standing like 2 steps away from me.”

He smirked a little. “Yeah, I watched you. That's why I wanted to dance with you, Stupid”

I rolled my eyes, but I was grinning.

“Loser.”

He gasped. “I am a gentleman. I didn’t once bring up you attacking that bagel.”

“I did not attack it—”

“You yeeted it.”

“It slipped!”

“Your honor, the bagel was launched with intent—”

I swatted his arm, and he dodged, laughing.

And for the first time in a while, I felt it again—that warmth in my chest, that stupid flutter behind my ribs that told me maybe this was real. Maybe we hadn’t ruined everything.

Maybe it was just beginning.

"I didn't think anyone still said yeeted" I snickered

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The café was quiet this time of day—late afternoon glow filtering in through wide windows, casting honey-colored stripes across the floor and the small two-seater table we settled into. It was the same café we’d both been to separately, the one where he walked me home. It felt… full circle.

Min Ho tugged lightly at the cuffs of his sleeves once we sat, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands. I felt the same way. My fingers hovered near the handle of my mug for longer than necessary, pretending to read the chalkboard menu even though I already knew what I wanted.

“This is weird, right?” I said eventually, smiling into my tea. “I feel like we already did the part where we confessed feelings, and now we’re rewinding into a first date.”

“Kind of backwards,” he agreed, laughing gently. “Like we hit ‘emotional intimacy’ before we hit ‘coffee.’”

“And blocked each other before we even held hands.”

He winced dramatically. “Too soon.”

We both laughed, and the awkwardness cracked a little more, something easier slipping in its place.

The server came over and took our orders — mine, usual and boring; his, surprisingly elaborate. When they left, he leaned back in his chair and looked at me for a long moment.

“I meant all of it,” he said softly.

I looked up.

“The messages,” he clarified. “What I said. What I tried to say. I don’t know what happens next, and I have no idea how to not be awkward about this, but… I want to try.”

That flutter again.

I sipped my tea and met his eyes. “You’ve been weird about me since Noir, you know.”

“You’ve been weird about me too,” he countered.

“I’m just weird in general,” I said with mock-seriousness.

He smiled, and this time it was relaxed. Unburdened. His leg bounced under the table and I could tell he was still nervous, but there was a lightness in him now—like maybe the week of heartbreak and blocked numbers and too many almosts had finally passed.

“So,” he said. “First date rules.”

I raised a brow. “There are rules?”

“Well, rule one is: no trauma-dumping.”

“You’re the one who trauma-dumped about skincare to Q for three hours yesterday,” I shot back.

“I was exfoliating my grief,” he said solemnly.

I choked on my drink.

The conversation spilled after that—easy, winding, full of stupid jokes and quieter glances when we thought the other wasn’t looking. At one point, I reached for the sugar at the same time he did and our fingers brushed, both of us freezing, smiling stupidly.

When the sky outside began to tint lilac, neither of us had made a move to leave.

“So… do you want to go on a second first date?” I asked, trying to sound breezy.

Min Ho leaned forward, eyes on mine. “Only if I don’t screw this one up.”

“You might.”

“I definitely will.”

We smiled. Because maybe we both already knew: that was okay.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The air outside was cooler now, just edging into evening, the kind of breeze that makes you wish you had a jacket but not enough to complain about it. The sun had dipped low, leaving streaks of gold and violet bleeding across the sky.

We walked side by side, not touching, not rushing. Just existing in the same space with the kind of closeness that said: We could.

Min Ho kicked a small rock along the sidewalk like he was focusing on not saying something too fast. I had my hands shoved into my pockets, hoping the walk would calm the very obvious fluttering happening somewhere in my chest.

“That was fun,” I offered, half into the silence.

He looked at me with a quiet grin. “Even though I drank a coffee that tasted like a cinnamon candle?”

“You ordered it.”

“You dared me.”

I smirked. “You’re supposed to be the cool, mysterious one. Not the one who’s peer-pressured into a seasonal beverage.”

“Cool, mysterious people can be victims of seasonal spice curiosity.”

I nudged his arm with my elbow. “Mmhm.”

He laughed under his breath and looked ahead again. I noticed how his shoulder occasionally brushed mine when we got a little too close on the sidewalk, but neither of us pulled away.

We passed the spot where he’d first offered to walk me home, weeks ago, when everything was still half-known and crackling with mystery. He noticed it too, glancing around and then down at me.

“This feels like déjà vu,” he said softly.

“Except now you know I'm super cool, and I know you use toner.”

“Hey—”

“I’m not judging,” I said, bumping him again.

He looked at me, face turned slightly, and I caught the exact second he debated taking my hand. He hesitated—and then didn’t.

His fingers brushed against mine, then curled around them, gentle and tentative. I looked down at our hands, then up at him. His gaze was steady now, nervous but certain.

I squeezed once. Just enough to say okay.

The walk was slower after that.

Near the entrance of my dorm building, we stopped. Streetlights buzzed above us, soft golden halos around our heads.

“I’ll let you go before you get your group interrogation,” he said.

“They wouldn’t do that.”

“They would absolutely do that.”

I shrugged. “They might already have a PowerPoint ready.”

He laughed quietly, but didn’t let go of my hand.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “About wanting to try. Even if I have to prove it. Even if I already kinda screwed it up once.”

“You didn’t screw it up,” I said. “We just… missed each other. Bad timing.”

Min Ho nodded once. Then stepped back just enough to let my hand go, like he was afraid holding it too long would make this feel too real too fast.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Min Ho.”

And as I climbed the steps to the dorm, I didn’t look back. I didn’t have to. I knew he was still standing there.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Eunice, Julianna, and Jayne were all sitting in a suspiciously casual circle on the floor with mugs of tea they clearly didn’t need. The second I stepped inside, four heads swivelled toward me like owls spotting prey.

“Well?” Julianna demanded.

I kicked my shoes off slowly. “Well what?”

“Oh my god, she’s doing a slow reveal,” Jayne gasped.

“Start from the beginning,” Eunice ordered. “Like… what was he wearing? Did he smell nice? Did he try anything?”

I frowned. “You sound like my mom.”

Jayne waved a hand. “She sounds like all of us, now TALK.”

Before I could answer, the scene cut—

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Q was leaning against Min Ho’s desk with his arms crossed, and Dae was sprawled on the couch like a therapist who was also a little entertained by the situation.

“Well?” Q said.

Min Ho dropped onto his bed, running a hand through his still-perfectly-styled hair. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” Q scoffed. “You sprinted around this dorm like a man possessed and now you’re giving me fine?”

“It was fine,” Min Ho insisted, then after a pause: “She held my hand.”

Dae grinned. “That’s not fine. That’s good.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“HE HELD YOUR HAND?!” Eunice screeched.

I winced. “I didn’t even say that yet—”

“She squeezed back?” Julianna asked like we were dissecting a historical event.

I shrugged, biting back a smile. “Maybe.”

Jayne leaned forward. “Maybe my ass. You’re glowing.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“You walked her home?” Q asked.

“Obviously,” Min Ho said.

“Did you kiss her?” Dae asked, straight-faced.

Min Ho gave him a sharp look. “No.”

Q sighed. “Tragic.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Did he kiss you?” Eunice whispered dramatically.

“No,” I said, and immediately all four groaned like I’d failed some collective mission.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Dae grinned. “You’re gonna kiss her next time though, right?”

Min Ho rolled onto his back. “…Maybe.”

Q smirked. “He’s definitely gonna kiss her next time.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The morning was deceptively calm. Coffee in one hand, notes in the other, I was telling myself I’d make it to class without incident.

Then I spotted Dae up ahead… and next to him, all tall, broad-shouldered confidence in a navy sweater, was Min Ho.

Of course.

Dae waved when he saw me. “Y/N! Perfect timing.”

I slowed, my stomach doing something stupid. Min Ho’s eyes flicked to mine and he smiled like we were in on some shared joke no one else could hear. “Morning,” he said, low and easy.

“Morning,” I answered, trying for neutral.

We walked together into the building, Dae holding the door. When we reached the classroom, I headed for my seat like normal—only to have Min Ho follow us in.

Dae dropped into his chair beside me. Min Ho, instead of leaving, leaned forward onto my desk, forearms braced, face tilted just enough that we were eye level.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice a whisper meant to sound annoyed, but my pulse was betraying me.

“Walking with Dae,” he said, then added with a sly half-smile, “And maybe seeing if you still looked at me like that after last night.”

I blinked. “Like what?”

“Like you’re deciding whether to roll your eyes or smile at me.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but the professor walked in. Min Ho straightened slowly, like he wasn’t in any hurry, and glanced down at me.

“See you later,” he murmured, before strolling out like he hadn’t just left my brain in total chaos.

Dae watched Min Ho leave, then turned to me with that infuriatingly casual smile of his.

“So…” he drawled, resting his elbow on the desk, “do I get to hear about last night?”

I kept my eyes on my notebook. “I’m sure you already got a lot of answers.”

His brows shot up, and he tilted his head. “You’d tell Q if he asked.”

I gave him a look. “Q’s nosy.”

“And I’m not?” Dae’s pout was almost comical, chin in his hand like he was personally wounded. “Come on. I promise not to tell him if you don’t want me to.”

I stared at him for a long second, debating. He stayed quiet, just watching me expectantly until I sighed.

“Fine,” I muttered, leaning closer so my voice wouldn’t carry. “We got coffee. Talked. Walked around a little. He was… nice. Normal. Not full of himself.”

Dae grinned. “So… you liked it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said, looking smug. “I can tell.”

I shoved his shoulder lightly. “Don’t start.”

“Too late,” he said, already pulling out his pen like he wasn’t plotting ways to bring this up later.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I’d just stepped out into the bright afternoon air when Stella fell into step beside me, her glossy hair swinging with each stride.

“Hey,” she said casually, like we bumped into each other all the time. “You headed somewhere?”

“Meeting Jayne,” I said, tucking my phone into my pocket.

“Perfect. I’ll walk with you.” Her smile was all teeth, the kind people wear when they’re saying something without actually saying it.

We strolled in silence for a moment before she tilted her head, voice light. “You know, I saw Min Ho last night.”

I glanced at her. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” She smirked. “All dressed up, headed into the girls’ dorms. Looked nice. Like… date nice.”

I stayed quiet, waiting for whatever game she was playing.

“And then,” she continued, “Kitty and Yuri came home later, laughing about how you had a date.” She gave a low, amused hum. “Funny coincidence, right?”

Her eyes flicked over me, searching for a reaction.

“Not really,” I said flatly, keeping my expression unreadable.

Her lips quirked upward, but her gaze stayed fixed on me, just a little too sharp. “He’s very… loyal, when he wants to be. But also—” she tilted her head, “—easily distracted.”

The words landed heavy, almost like she knew something I didn’t.

She stepped a little closer, her voice dropping as if she were sharing a secret. “I mean… sometimes you just have to make sure the competition disappears. You’d be surprised how easy that can be.”

For a second, my stomach twisted—not because of what she said, but how she said it. Like it wasn’t a threat. Like it was a confession.

She smiled, full and bright again, as if she hadn’t just casually hinted at being the villain in someone’s story. “Anyway. I’ll let you get to your friend.”

And with that, she turned off toward another building, leaving me standing in the path, pulse pounding for reasons I couldn’t fully explain.

I stood there for a second after she disappeared into the crowd, my mind buzzing. That hadn’t just been weird. That had been calculated.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled out my phone and scrolled until Kitty’s name popped up, then hit call.

She picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Y/N? Everything okay?”

“Yeah—well, no. Maybe? I don’t know.” I shifted my bag higher, glancing around like Stella might reappear. “I think… maybe you’re right about Stella.”

There was a beat of silence, then Kitty’s voice sharpened instantly. “What did she do?”

“She just—” I let out a breath. “She said something and it was… off. Like she was testing me. And it wasn’t just about Min Ho, it was like she wanted me to know she could get rid of me if she wanted.”

“Okay,” Kitty said, already in problem-solving mode. “That’s not paranoia. That’s a warning.”

“Exactly.”

“Meet me later,” she said firmly. “If Stella’s playing a game, we’re going to figure out the rules before she does.”

I hung up feeling equal parts uneasy and… maybe a little grateful that Kitty was on my side.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Later that night, the dorm was quiet except for the low hum of Kitty’s laptop fan and the occasional distant slam of a door down the hall. I sat cross-legged on my bed, knees pulled to my chest, while Kitty paced like she was building a legal case.

“So,” she said, turning to face me, “tell me exactly what she said. Word for word.”

I went through it again, the part about Min Ho dressed nicely, the girls mentioning my date, the way Stella smiled like she was holding the punchline hostage.

Kitty frowned, arms crossing. “That’s… not casual. That’s a power move.”

“That’s what I thought.” I twisted the blanket in my hands. “And the way she looked at me, it wasn’t like she was curious. It was like she already knew, and she wanted me to know she knew.”

Kitty stopped pacing. “She’s staking a claim. And it’s not because she likes Min Ho—it’s because she needs him for something.”

That made my stomach turn. “You think?”

“I know,” she said, a spark of determination lighting her face. “I’ve seen this before. She’s too calculated to just ‘accidentally’ run into you and bring it up. She wants to get in your head. The more you’re second-guessing yourself, the easier it is for her to move in.”

I looked at her for a long moment. “Why me, though?”

Kitty tilted her head like it was obvious. “Because you’re the threat. And I don’t think she knows how much of one you really are yet.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned at that, but Kitty was already grabbing her notebook and pen.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Starting a list,” she said matter-of-factly. “Step one: figure out her real endgame. Step two: get proof. Step three…” She smirked. “Take her down before she even sees it coming.”

I almost laughed—but the part of me that was still thinking about Min Ho, and Stella’s smirk, couldn’t.

Kitty was muttering something about “cross-referencing her socials” when I picked up my phone. I stared at Min Ho’s contact for a long time.

The last thread of messages between us was still a graveyard of red Not Delivered warnings. My thumb hovered over the keyboard anyway.

Y/N: hey Y/N: can we talk?

I hit send. The bubble hung for a second… then the familiar red text flashed again. Not Delivered.

My chest tightened. I typed again.

Y/N: this is getting ridiculous

Not Delivered.

Kitty glanced up from her laptop. “Not going through?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I got to my feet and shoved my shoes on, the laces tangling in my hurry.

“Uh—where are we going?” Kitty scrambled after me, nearly tripping over her blanket.

“Your dorm,” I said, yanking the door open. “Now.”

We walked fast, Kitty barely keeping pace as she hissed questions I didn’t answer. My pulse was pounding too loud in my ears.

When we reached her dorm, I didn’t hesitate — just pushed the door open and headed straight for Stella’s room. She was lounging on her bed, phone in hand, scrolling like she didn’t have a care in the world.

I stopped in the doorway. “I don’t know what it is you think you’re doing,” I said, my voice sharp enough to cut the air, “but I know you’ve done this.”

Her head tilted, all faux-innocence. “Done… what?”

“You know what.” My jaw clenched. “About me being blocked.”

Kitty’s eyes darted between us like she was watching the opening scene of a bar fight. Stella just smiled, slow and deliberate, like a cat stretching in the sun.

Stella set her phone down gently, as if she had all the time in the world. “Blocked?” She blinked at me like I’d just spoken in another language. “Why would I ever… do something like that?”

“Don’t play dumb.” My voice cracked with the edge of how long I’d been holding this in. “You saw his phone. You knew.”

Her lips curved — not a smile, not exactly. More like she was trying one on for size. “That’s an interesting theory. But if Min Ho blocked you, maybe you should be asking yourself why.”

Kitty stepped forward, arms crossed. “That’s not what happened, and you know it.”

“Kitty,” Stella said sweetly, turning her attention like a laser beam. “You weren’t there. Neither of us were. So how could we possibly know the truth?”

I took a step closer, fists curled at my sides. “You don’t get to mess with me. Not with this. You’ve been trying to get in his head since you got here.”

Her eyes glimmered, sharp under the lamplight. “Trying? Honey, I don’t have to try.” She leaned back against her pillows, feigning nonchalance. “And maybe instead of accusing me, you should be worried about why he hasn’t come running to clear this up himself.”

The words hit, hot and heavy, but I forced myself not to flinch.

Kitty sucked in a breath like she was about to launch into a full defense, but I lifted a hand to stop her. My voice was low, unshaking. “If you think I’m just going to let you win, you don’t know me.”

Stella tilted her head, smile cool, unbothered. “Then I guess we’ll see who Min Ho really chooses, won’t we?”

I turned to Kitty, pulse pounding. “Give me your phone.”

Her brows shot up. “Uh, okay…” She fumbled it out of her pocket and handed it over.

I typed in Min Ho’s number from memory before I could chicken out, then pressed call. Kitty’s wide eyes met mine as I hit speaker.

The ring barely lasted two beats before his voice came through, breathless. “Hello?”

Silence clamped over the room. Stella’s smirk faltered.

“Min Ho,” I said evenly, staring right at her. “It’s me. Y/N. Calling from Kitty’s phone.”

There was a pause — then his voice softened, urgent. “Y/N? Finally. I’ve been— I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

Kitty’s jaw dropped. “See?!” she hissed, glaring at Stella.

I swallowed hard, throat dry. “My texts… my calls… everything was blocked.”

On the other end of the line, Min Ho sounded confused, panicked. “What? No. No, I would never—” His breath hitched like he was moving around his room. “Y/N, I swear, I don’t know how that happened. I’ve been texting you every night, you didn’t answer, I thought you hated me—”

“Blocked,” I repeated, eyes never leaving Stella.

Her expression had gone carefully blank now, a mask settling over her face.

Kitty muttered, “Busted,” under her breath.

I tightened my grip on the phone, pulse roaring in my ears. “Then tell me, Min Ho,” I said, voice razor-sharp but trembling underneath. “If it wasn’t you… who would want to make sure we never talked?”

Stella’s mask cracked into something smug and syrupy, the kind of smile that made my skin crawl. She stepped closer, folding her arms like she had every advantage in the world.

“Min Ho,” she said, her voice honeyed, dripping into the phone like poison, “since Y/N’s so… upset right now, maybe you’d rather go on a second date with me?”

The air in the room turned ice cold.

Kitty’s jaw dropped so hard I thought it might hit the floor. “WHAT?!”

I stared at her, fury bubbling in my chest. She wasn’t even pretending anymore—she wanted me to hear it, wanted to twist the knife.

On the other end, Min Ho’s voice snapped like a whip, sharp and disbelieving. “Stella? What the hell are you talking about?”

There was a pause on the line, just long enough for Stella to smirk at me like she still had the upper hand.

Then Min Ho’s voice came through, firm and clear. “Stella, no. I’ve already told you—I’m not interested.”

Her smile faltered.

“And honestly,” he went on, his tone steel now, “if you can’t tell how obvious it is that I like Y/N, then you’re not paying attention.”

The words hung heavy in the air. My breath caught. Kitty’s hand flew to her mouth to smother a squeal, her wide eyes flicking between me and Stella like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

───── Thursday, September 12, 2024 – 8:13 PM

ME: If you ever want to humble yourself, go on a blind date set up by your aunt’s friend’s dog groomer. I repeat: dog groomer. remind me to never let anyone set me up again. he ordered for me without asking. he said i “looked like a salad girl.” SALAD. GIRL.

I hit send, fully expecting my roommate Jayne to send back an “omg” and a hundred skull emojis.

Instead…

UNKNOWN: …was he wrong tho? 🥗 also, hi. who are you and why are you telling me about your tragic salad-based love life?

I looked at the screen. Oh god, wrong number. I’d just trauma-dumped on a total stranger.

ME: OH MY GOD sorry!!! wrong number!!! please ignore!! (and for the record i am a fries girl) UNKNOWN: fries > salad. now i trust you. wait tho. how bad was the date? scale of 1 to criminal charges.

I hesitated. Then typed.

ME: a solid 7. he said his love language was “alpha energy.” i said mine was “not that.” then he asked me what i was doing in seoul and when i said “school,” he asked if i was studying how to be prettier UNKNOWN: wow. ok yeah. certified garbage man. 🚩🚩🚩

I laughed. Like, actually laughed out loud alone on the train.

ME: thanks, random internet therapist. you’ve been oddly helpful. do i owe you money or…? UNKNOWN: first session is always free 🤫

I shoved my phone into my pocket and trudged in to the dorms like a soldier returning from war. A war of bad vibes, unwanted kale, and weaponized masculinity.

When I walked into our room, Jayne was sitting cross-legged on her bed, face mask on, aggressively swiping on her phone.

“You survived,” she said without looking up. “I was about ten minutes from sending in a fake emergency text.”

I collapsed onto my bed with a theatrical groan. “Never again.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Blind date,” I said into my pillow. “Set up by my aunt’s friend’s dog groomer.”

Jayne looked up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh no.”

“He talked about crypto. He called himself an ‘alpha.’ And he ordered a salad for me because I ‘look like a salad girl.’”

Jayne ripped the face mask off her skin like a dramatic reveal on reality TV. “He did not.”

“Dead serious. He said it with full confidence. Like he was doing me a favor by denying me actual food.”

Jayne gagged. “That’s actually a war crime.”

“I’m swearing off dating. Forever.”

She tossed the mask into the trash and sighed. “Honestly, same. I found out today that the love of my life is apparently seeing someone new. Again.”

I sat up just enough to squint at her. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Jayne—”

“Let me grieve.”

“Please do not say—”

“Min Ho Moon.”

I dropped back down with a groan. “Jayne.”

“What? He’s beautiful. He’s got movie-star cheekbones and the emotionally unavailable energy of a K-drama second lead. I’m just a girl with dreams.”

“You’ve said, like, four words to him. Total.”

She shrugged. “They were impactful.”

“They were ‘Hi,’ ‘excuse,’ ‘me,’ and ‘thanks.’”

Jayne narrowed her eyes. “You don’t get it. It’s about the vibe. He’s effortlessly cool and also probably a little dead inside. It’s hot.”

I snorted. “He’s just another guy who doesn’t care to fall in love.”

Jayne flopped onto her back, clutching her pillow dramatically. “Exactly. And somehow… that makes me want him more. It’s giving Shakespearean tragedy. I’m Juliet. He’s… not even noticing me.”

“Yeah” I rolled over to face the ceiling, pulling out my phone again. “I think you’re reading the wrong Shakespeare if you think Romeo doesn’t notice Juliet” The unknown number stared back at me. No name. No face. But weirdly, not the worst part of my night.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

KISS had a special talent for making even the most interesting subjects feel like watching paint dry. My psych professor was currently monologuing about cognitive bias while I was staring at a half-dead pen doodle of a coffee cup in my notebook.

Jayne sat next to me, texting someone under the desk with a grin that probably meant chaos. I glanced over just in time to see her type “what if we put the frog in his backpack 😭🧪” before she locked her screen and leaned her head dramatically on my shoulder.

“Bored,” she whispered.

I was about to whisper back when my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket.

───── Monday, September 16, 2024 – 10:32 AM

UNKNOWN: The curiosity is eating away at me. Please tell me you’ve heard from the salad guy again.

I blinked. Oh. Them.

I hadn’t thought about wrong number in a few days. Life had been busy — new classes, Jayne’s ongoing delusion spiral, and a tragic lack of decent coffee on campus.

But somehow, the text made me smile.

I glanced around, subtly tilted my phone away from the professor’s view, and typed back:

ME: unfortunately yes. he dm’d me to say he had a “revolutionary second date idea” UNKNOWN: oh no. ME: he wants us to go on a “cleanse” together. 3 days. no caffeine, no gluten, no “digital distractions.” he called it a “soul alignment experience.” UNKNOWN: okay i’m calling the police. that’s a cult. ME: you joke but i’m 80% sure he’s one inspirational quote away from launching a podcast UNKNOWN: “bro with a bowl” live every sunday.

I covered my mouth with my sleeve, pretending to cough so I didn’t laugh out loud. Jayne narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously.

ME: he also said his “energy didn’t match with processed food” which is funny because i’m 98% made of pop tarts and spite UNKNOWN: so basically you’re a walking red flag to him and yet he STILL wants a second date??? this man fears nothing ME: truly. fearless. possibly just really dumb UNKNOWN: personally i think your second date with him should be a stock exchange like get each other a gift that keeps on giving from some 40-year-old broker 로맨틱.

I let out an unholy snort that made Jayne physically flinch. I waved it off.

ME: not the hangul. you did not bilingual-sarcasm me UNKNOWN: i contain multitudes. ME: my friends keep warning me not to talk to strangers on the internet and yet here you are texting me your weird finance date ideas mid-lecture UNKNOWN: you started it. ME: i’m not even sure how we got here tbh UNKNOWN: you trauma-dumped about a salad i stayed for the personality

I looked at the screen for a second too long.

ME: fine. what do i call you unless you want to be “??” forever

There was a long pause. The dots blinked, disappeared. Came back.

UNKNOWN: let’s not ruin a good thing mystery keeps it interesting ME: wow. so you like being a question mark ??: never said that. ME: didn’t deny it either

Jayne was watching me now. Fully staring.

“Okay,” she said. “Who’s texting you and why do you look like you just got proposed to by a mystery novel?”

I dropped my phone face-down on the desk. “No one. I’m in class. I’m being studious.”

Jayne raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Studious and suspicious.”

I ignored her. But under the desk, my phone buzzed again.

??: also i feel like you owe me for ruining my day with that cleanse story ME: you offered yourself as emotional support i just took you up on it ??: i want a refund ME: take it up with the dog groomer

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

KISS cafeteria energy was feral at best: people yelling across tables, someone blasting a remix of KATSEYE from their AirPods like we all asked, and my sad little bowl of rice getting colder by the second.

Jayne had vanished “just to grab tea” ten minutes ago, which meant she was probably stalking the path a cute boy took between physics and lunch.

Leaving me to mindlessly scroll instagram.

“Okay, but seriously,” I heard Kitty’s voice from a table nearby. “is it just me or are there way more Americans this year?” she said

Q glanced up from his tray. “It’s an international school, Kitty.”

“I know,” she said, exasperated. “But another one just moved into my dorm. Like late transfer. She’s… a lot.”

“A lot how?” Q asked, already grinning.

Kitty leaned in, lowering her voice like she was letting him in on state secrets. “Super bubbly. Big smile. Always saying things like ‘blessed’ and ‘God put me here for a reason.’”

“Oh,” Q said.

“Yeah.”

“Religious?”

“Extremely,” Kitty whispered. “She offered to pray for me when I told her my curling iron broke.”

Q snorted.

Kitty leaned back. “I mean, she’s nice! Like, so nice. But it’s like… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like she’s acting. Like she turns it on for different people.”

“Like code-switching, or like… fake?”

Kitty hesitated. “I’m trying not to be judgy, but—yeah. Kind of fake. Like, she’s one way when it’s just us, and then suddenly she’s a different person if boys walk by.”

“Sounds like someone you need to investigate.”

Kitty smiled. “Already on it.”

I looked back down at my phone, chewing slowly. I hadn’t met a new American girl yet. But I could already feel Jayne trying to befriend her in spirit.

Just as I was about to close Instagram, a notification buzzed at the top of my screen.

───── Tuesday, September 17, 2024 – 1:02PM

??: do koreans have something against soft bread i just bit into this roll and it fought back

My mouth twitched up before I could stop it.

ME: welcome to the land of aggressive carbs ??: it’s like eating a baseball with sesame seeds ME: bold of you to assume that wasn’t intentional maybe the roll has beef ??: now i’m imagining you in a food fight your weapon is a tray of emotional support carbs ME: you joke but i did once launch a bagel at someone in eighth grade it hit a priest in the face ??: oh wow that’s top-tier religious trauma proud of you

I laughed under my breath. Kitty and Q were still whispering about Stella a few tables over. Jayne was nowhere to be seen. And here I was, texting a complete stranger about bread violence like it was the most normal thing in the world.

??: I just got to my school cafeteria chaos. someone just ran past holding only a spoon and a juice box i fear for my life

Jayne dropped into the seat across from me like she was returning from war. Her iced tea nearly sloshed over the edge.

“You will never guess who I just saw with that new girl Stella,” she said, out of breath.

I barely glanced up. “Who?”

“Min Ho.”

I looked up.

“And they were talking,” she continued, like it was illegal. “Like, actual conversation. With full teeth smiles. He held the door for her.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That sounds… nice?”

“That sounds like the start of betrayal,” she hissed.

“Jayne. You’ve spoken to him twice.”

“Once,” she admitted. “But we made eye contact another time, and there was something there. And now he’s out here entertaining America’s Sweetheart like I don’t exist.”

I tried not to laugh. “I’m sure he’s just being polite.”

“No one is that polite. And she’s too—peppy. I don’t trust it.”

“I think she asked if she could pray for me when I sneezed,”

“Exactly!”

I shook my head and glanced back at my phone, just as it buzzed again.

??: if i disappear it’s because i got taken out by a stampede of toddlers with kimchi bowls tell my story

ME: i’ll make sure they put “fell heroically in cafeteria chaos” on your headstone w/ honor and too much sesame oil

??: honestly? not a bad way to go

I was smiling when Jayne leaned across the table, her iced tea sloshing dangerously close to my tray.

“Who is that,” she asked. “You’ve been texting them for days.”

I shrugged. “Wrong number. Kind of stuck.”

Jayne’s face lit up like a conspiracy theorist who finally found a red string to connect two pins. “You’re still texting the wrong number person?! You’re in a full-on anonymous romance.”

“It’s not a romance.”

“Oh please. You’re blushing.”

“I’m not—”

“You are. You look like you just got complimented by a K-drama second lead in the rain.”

I stared at her. “That’s… horrifyingly specific.”

Before she could say something else dramatic, my phone buzzed again.

??: are all school lunches here this intense or is this just my karma catching up to me

ME: maybe cafeteria chaos is your penance for past bread crimes

??: harsh but fair

Jayne sighed dreamily, resting her chin on her hand. “This is literally a Wattpad setup.”

I ignored her, but deep down… I kind of agreed.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

My room was dark except for the low glow of my phone screen and the K-drama Jayne had passed out watching, still playing in the background. I couldn’t sleep. Blame the late-night iced coffee or the slow, soft pull of curiosity that was now a daily part of my routine.

───── Friday, September 20, 2024 – 12:48 AM

??: just saw a tiktok that said if you don’t order for the girl on a first date you’re not a real man he called himself an “alpha dating strategist” and now i want to launch myself into the sun

I snorted out loud and texted back immediately.

ME: please don’t i need you alive for more cafeteria commentary

??: sorry but he said “masculine dominance is choosing her salad for her” and i can’t go on

ME: do it for the bread rolls stay strong

??: fine i’ll survive but only because my bread-based trauma has made me emotionally resilient

I stared at the screen for a minute, smiling faintly. And then, before I could stop myself—

ME: so i figured out you’re in high school too but how old are you? and you’re a boy, right?

The three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then reappeared.

??: 17 boy unless i’ve been lied to my entire life and you?

ME: same and yes girl unless i’ve been lied to

??: glad we cleared that up i was starting to imagine you as a 47-year-old dentist with a tiktok addiction

ME: bold of you to assume dentists don’t deserve meaningful anonymous friendships too

??: no one deserves anonymous friendship more than dentists

I hesitated for a second, then typed:

ME: you figured out i’m not Korean, huh?

??: i had a feeling some of your phrasing is… creative lol you use “very much” in weird places also your sarcasm is aggressively western

ME: tragic and here i thought i was blending in flawlessly

??: it’s okay i like it

My heart did a small, dumb thing.

??: your korean’s actually not bad just not native guessing american?

ME: yeah came here for school i can usually follow convos unless people start talking fast or saying slang i’ve never heard

??: i’ll speak slowly if we ever meet in person in case you forget what a tray is

ME: you’re assuming i’d ever admit to being the bagel criminal in real life

??: i’d recognise you easy

ME: why

??: you’d be the one laughing to yourself in a crowded room typing something sarcastic about bread

ME: okay that’s… weirdly accurate

??: i’m very observant it’s my mysterious trait

I bit my lip, staring at his last message. Somehow, I felt seen in the most unexpected way.

ME: thanks for texting me tonight couldn’t sleep

??: same this was better than sleep tbh

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I got to class early — not because I was trying to impress anyone, but because I needed a win today, and “claiming the window seat” was an achievable goal.

Outside, the campus was buzzing: scooters whirring, music leaking from someone’s open dorm window, the faint sound of laughing somewhere nearby. Normal KISS energy.

I set my bag down, pulled out my notes, and reached for my phone out of habit. Nothing new. Not that I expected anything — we didn’t usually text during times I had classes, and I assume he did too. We had a rhythm. Chaos at night, mostly silence in the daylight.

Still. I looked.

Still nothing.

I locked my phone again and sat back in my chair just as someone dropped into the seat next to me.

“Hey,” said a voice.

I turned — and immediately clocked the smile before the face.

It was Dae.

He gave me a quick nod like we were already halfway into a conversation. “Didn’t realize you were in this section.”

I blinked. “We’ve been in this class for three weeks.”

“I know,” he said easily. “But you’re usually back there.” He pointed toward the second-to-last row.

I squinted at him. “And you just decided to move up front too?”

“Better view,” he said.

I stared at him.

He smiled, then reached into his backpack like he hadn’t just said something vaguely flirty in the middle of economics.

Dae wasn’t flirting though — that was the thing. That was just how he talked. Polite, glowy, diplomatic. The kind of guy who didn’t have to try very hard to be liked.

Not that I cared.

Not that I was thinking about whether this could be him — the mystery texter. I wasn’t. Because it wasn’t his vibe. He was too clean-cut, too sweet. My wrong number person was…messier.

Funnier.

A little unhinged, in a good way.

Still, I glanced sideways when he took out his notebook. Just for research purposes.

Just in case.

Back in my dorm, Jayne was snoring softly under a heap of pillows, one arm dangling off the side of her bed like she’d been dropped from the sky and forgotten.

I was curled up under my blanket with my phone screen turned down low, the way you do when you're about to send a text you’re not sure you should send.

But I did it anyway.

ME: so i sat next to the nicest guy in class today and it was… unsettling

He replied a second later.

??: unsettling how like “he says hi to strangers” unsettling or “he probably volunteers for things and has a bedtime” unsettling

ME: more the second one like he’s too emotionally stable and that’s suspicious

??: a man with routine and empathy? jail

ME: THANK YOU that’s what i said (in my head)

??: was he hot though i feel like this is key information

ME: cute mostly like... smile that could get him out of multiple crimes cuteness it’s almost manipulative

??: yeah okay now i’m suspicious no one is attractive and nice and aware of your existence

ME: right?? i kept thinking like is this a bit? is this a prank?

??: probably or he’s in a bet with god

I snorted out loud and had to slap a hand over my mouth to keep from waking Jayne.

??: does he know your name or was it a “hey… person” situation

ME: he knew it which was also suspicious i’ve literally never spoken to him before

??: okay now i’m fully convinced this is a social experiment stay safe out there trust no one not even the salad guy

I laughed into my blanket.

ME: speaking of the salad guy texted me again wanted to take me to “a place with vibes” which sounds like either a candle shop or a cult

??: or a crypto seminar

ME: i should’ve just left mid-date and ordered fries for myself it would’ve saved so much emotional damage

??: personally i still think your second date should be a stock exchange show up a nice romantic 40-year-old broker in a blazer moment

ME: you’re an actual menace

??: and yet you keep texting me

I stared at that one for a second.

ME: you’re better than salad alpha guy and probably “smile that could get him out of crimes” guy too

??: bold statement i could still be a 40-year-old dentist with a fake name and a tiktok account

ME: true but at least you’re funny and that’s worth something

I didn’t send another message after that.

But I waited.

And yeah.

He didn’t reply — not right away — but I had a feeling they read it.

Somehow, that was enough.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Y/N,” Jayne said, already half in her makeup mirror, “we’re not doing sad hoodies tonight. You’re at least brushing your hair.”

“I’m literally just the background character in your romantic tragedy,” I mumbled, flopping backward on my bed.

Jayne shot me a glare through the mirror. “Incorrect. You’re the best friend who gets complimented by a hot stranger and realizes she’s been hot all along.”

“That sounds like a rushed side plot.”

“Then let’s give it a main character arc.”

I groaned but sat up, reaching for my makeup bag anyway. “Where are we even going?”

“Some rooftop café-turned-lounge downtown. There’s neon. There’s music. And I need a distraction.”

“Because the guy you’re obsessed with hasn’t looked at you in three days?”

She paused her eyeliner. “Excuse you. It’s been five. And he accidentally liked my story from three weeks ago, so that’s basically a declaration of love.”

I snorted. “Totally. Let me find a wedding venue.”

While she adjusted her glittery earrings, I pulled on jeans and stared at my pile of clothes like something cute would spontaneously reveal itself. I grabbed a cropped black cardigan and hoped the city lights would do the rest.

My phone buzzed from the desk. I grabbed it instinctively.

───── Friday, September 27, 2024 – 7:12 PM

??: currently being dragged out against my will send help or fries

I grinned and flopped back on the bed, thumbs already moving.

ME: same apparently i’m “wasting my potential” by not wearing lip gloss and flirting with strangers

??: i mean that does sound like wasted potential

ME: you don’t even know what i look like

??: i know you have good taste in fries and bad luck with men the rest writes itself

I laughed, feeling the tiniest, stupidest flutter in my chest.

Jayne yanked my phone from my hand before I could respond. “Lipstick. Now.”

“You are terrifying.”

“And yet, you love me,” she said sweetly, tossing my phone back to the bed.

I picked it up again once she turned away, heart still fluttering.

ME: where are you being dragged to?

??: some lounge thing i wasn’t paying attention too busy thinking about disappearing into the night like a misunderstood rich boy

ME: sounds like we’re headed to the same kind of place

There was a pause before he replied.

??: maybe we’ll find each other

My hands paused over the keyboard.

ME: in a city of 9 million?

??: stranger things have happened (we are only speaking because of a typo)

ME: fair

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” Jayne said, swinging her bag over her shoulder and spinning in the mirror. “We’re late to being hot in public.”

As I followed her out the door, my phone buzzed again.

??: if someone weirdly insults your music taste tonight, it’s probably me

I smiled as we stepped out into the night.

Somehow, that didn’t sound terrible.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The lounge was louder than it had any right to be.

Flashing LED strips framed the walls, pulsing in time with a playlist that sounded like someone’s playlist titled late night chaos. A DJ stood behind a glowing acrylic booth like he was summoning demons through bass drops. And the rooftop heaters were definitely for the vibe, not functionality.

I tugged my sleeves down over my hands and leaned against a metal railing, watching Jayne twirl a straw in her drink while scanning the crowd like she was on a mission. (She was.)

“He’s not here yet,” she said, frustrated. “Which is rude. I made an effort. I wore shimmer.”

“You should sue,” I said, sipping my overpriced lychee mocktail.

“I might.”

While she kept looking for her “mystery” crush (spoiler alert: it was not that mysterious), I pulled out my phone and checked it under the glow of a pink neon sign that said BE THE DRAMA.

ME: i’m surrounded by people in leather jackets one of them tried to light a candle with a matchbook from a noodle shop

??: you're at noir?

I blinked.

ME: is that what this place is called wait are you here?

??: 👀

ME: that is not an answer

??: just know if someone asks for your number using a riddle it’s probably me

I froze for half a second, glancing around the rooftop.

Was this a joke?

Jayne was now talking to someone near the bar, so I took a few steps away, scanning the crowd — but everyone looked like… everyone. Leather jackets. Heeled boots. Puffer vests. Some guy doing an actual card trick. Neon made it impossible to focus.

I turned back toward the railing, heart suddenly weird in my chest.

What if he really was here?

Not knowing who I was looking for made it worse. Or maybe better. I didn’t know.

ME: what are you wearing?

??: that feels dangerously close to a cheesy pickup line

ME: i meant so i can identify and tackle you

I laughed quietly and tucked my phone into my coat. I turned back toward the crowd — just in time to be absolutely annihilated by Q’s elbow and a very full drink.

“Oh my—!” I jumped back, staring down at my soaked shoes.

“Oh no, no no no,” he gasped, flailing napkins from nowhere like a magician. “I am SO sorry— I didn’t see you, I was just trying to wave down Kitty and—”

“You elbowed her drink-first,” a new voice said, bemused.

I looked up.

Min Ho Moon stood a step behind Q, hands in the pockets of a navy bomber jacket, hair perfectly unbothered, and expression somewhere between amused and detached. So basically: the usual.

Jayne, to my left, blinked like a deer caught in ring light.

Q handed me a stack of flimsy napkins. “Damage report?”

“Mostly pride,” I said, patting my boots. “Also I think this was white grape soda?”

“Okay, but in my defense— actually no, I have no defense.” Q sighed. “I’ll buy your next drink. Please don’t sue me.”

“I’ll consider it.”

While Q turned to dramatically apologize again, Jayne stepped forward — right into Min Ho’s line of sight.

“You’re Q’s friend, right?” she asked, putting on her best nonchalant act.

Min Ho looked at her, surprised. “I guess that depends. Am I being complimented or blamed?”

Jayne smiled. “Depends how you answer my next question.”

“…Which is?”

“What’s your name?”

His lip twitched like he was trying not to laugh. “Min Ho.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m Jayne.”

??: …romantic

He nodded, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “Nice to meet you.”

Their conversation faded into the background — something about the DJ’s taste in throwback remixes — as I stepped back to check my phone.

ME: no, not romantic. it’s going to be painful.

I hit send just as Jayne laughed at something Min Ho said — her voice bright and too loud in the moment — and slid my phone away again.

Across from me, Min Ho’s eyes flicked toward his own phone.

And then— slowly— toward me.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t react.

But when he pulled his phone out, thumbed open a message, and looked up again — I wasn’t looking his way anymore. I’d turned, half-listening to Q talk to Kitty now. Oblivious.

??: painful for you or for me?

He hit send.

And watched.

My phone light up in my hand.

I picked it up — brows furrowed — and read. No smile. But a pause.

Min Ho’s head tilted slightly. His jaw twitched.

But then Jayne said something again — something flirty, probably — and his focus snapped back.

Q disappeared somewhere around the third remix of a song I swear was in every 2015 YouTube travel vlog. Kitty had wandered off with a boy who looked like a K-pop villain. And Jayne, who I thought was flirting with Min Ho by the bar, had reappeared at my elbow looking breathless and victorious.

“Come dance with me,” she said, tugging at my sleeve. “You’re not allowed to sulk in the corner anymore. That’s my job tonight.”

“I’m not sulking...?” I said.

“You’re standing still and looking pensive under neon. That’s peak indie drama behavior.”

I didn’t have a comeback for that. Mostly because I was trying to puzzle together the weird buzz of my phone earlier and how it had seemed… timed.

I followed Jayne anyway.

The rooftop had morphed into a dance floor in the way only lounges do—messy and chaotic, lit with LED roses and bad decisions. People moved like they weren’t being watched. Or maybe because they were.

I found Eunice in the crowd, her hair glowing slightly under a blue light, and she greeted me with a “Finally!” before pulling me into whatever rhythm she was vibing to. It was warm here, bodies packed too close together, bass pressing into my chest like a second heartbeat.

It felt good to let go a little.

To not overthink.

To just move.

I spun, laughing as Eunice pointed dramatically to the DJ like she was at Coachella, and raised my hands into the air. The song shifted—something hazy and electronic. Still danceable, but a little slower. The kind of song that made eye contact feel dangerous.

That’s when I noticed him.

Min Ho.

He’d crossed from the edge of the bar and was threading through the crowd, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning until they landed on… me.

My breath caught for no reason.

He moved like someone who didn’t need to try hard to be noticed. Like the night was a set and he already knew his lighting. Like he wasn’t used to chasing.

And yet—he was walking toward me.

I blinked, heartbeat stumbling in a way that had nothing to do with the music.

He stopped a step away. Tilted his head.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was low—warm but unreadable. “Do you—?”

Before he could finish, Jayne materialized beside him, sliding smoothly between us like she belonged there.

“There you are,” she said, like she’d just bumped into him by accident. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”

Min Ho hesitated. His eyes flicked to her, then back to me.

Jayne was glowing. Her lip gloss caught the lights like glitter. She leaned closer, playful. “You dance?”

Min Ho’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile.

“I was talking to her,” he said, glancing toward me again.

Jayne didn’t back off. “Oh, she’s my roommate.” He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for more. She laughed—flirty. “Y/N,” she added, before I could say it myself.

Something flickered behind his eyes.

Recognition? Maybe.

But he didn’t say anything. Just nodded, once, and turned back to me.

“Y/N,” he said, testing it out like it was a secret.

And maybe it was.

Because the moment held.

It held for too long.

Jayne nudged his shoulder. “So? Dance with us.”

Min Ho looked at her. Then at me. Then back at her. But he didn’t step forward. He just stayed where he was, hands in his pockets, like he hadn’t made up his mind yet. Before anyone could say anything else—before Jayne could loop her arm through his or throw out some perfectly timed flirt—someone called my name.

Loudly.

“Y/N!”

I turned, spotting Eunice by the booth near the DJ, flanked by two girls I recognized instantly: Yuri and Julianna. Eunice was waving both arms like she was signaling an aircraft. Her drink was dangerously close to spilling.

She pointed toward me, mouthing something I couldn’t hear, then grinned and gestured me over.

Relief bloomed in my chest like a sudden inhale.

“Looks like I’ve been summoned,” I said lightly, flicking a glance at Jayne and Min Ho.

Jayne blinked at me, distracted.

Min Ho’s eyes were already on me again.

“You two have fun,” I added, giving Jayne a small nod. I meant it. I wanted to mean it.

She smiled. Barely. Her hand was still near his arm.

And so, without waiting for whatever Min Ho was about to say, I turned and slipped through the crowd. It was easier this way—easier not to wonder if he would’ve kept talking to me, easier not to know what would’ve happened if I’d stayed.

By the time I reached Eunice, the DJ was handing over a pen so she could write a request on a napkin. Yuri laughed at something Julianna said and handed me a lollipop like it was normal to have candy at a rooftop party.

It was.

At least for them.

I didn’t look back.

But if I had… I might’ve seen Min Ho standing in the same spot, hands still in his pockets, watching me weave through the crowd. Watching me leave.

Jayne leaned in a little closer to him. She’d been waiting over a year for that moment.

“Juliana,” I said, nudging her as I leaned closer. “Yuri’s completely deranged.”

She didn’t even look surprised. Just smiled into her cup and said, “Yeah, I like it.”

We watched together as Yuri and Eunice argued with the DJ like it was a business deal, waving their hands and dramatically listing reasons their song had to be played. Juliana glanced sideways at me.

“You’re Jayne’s roommate, right?”

I nodded. “Unfortunately for both of us.”

“She’s… a lot.”

“Tell me about it.”

Juliana took a small sip, then tilted her head. “You seem pretty normal though.”

I laughed. “Thanks?”

“No, I mean—like, grounded. Which is weird at this school.”

“Well, give it time. I’ll disappoint you eventually.”

She smiled. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Before I could answer, a triumphant squeal came from the booth—Eunice and Yuri were victorious.

“Come on!” Eunice shouted, linking one arm through Juliana’s and one through mine.

Yuri grabbed Juliana’s free hand, and suddenly we were being pulled toward the middle of the floor, just as the opening chords hit.

“What’s the time where you are?”

My heart did a little flip. The lights dimmed to something golden and dreamy, like honey poured over a blur. The four of us moved in sync without needing to try, lost in the beat and each other’s laughter. The lyrics poured through the speakers like something confessional. Intimate. Bigger than the rooftop.

I caught a glimpse of Kitty and Q pushing through the crowd, joining us. Q threw an arm around Eunice, who pretended to shake him off. Behind them came Dae, a little too close to Kitty, and—

Min Ho.

His jacket was gone now, sleeves rolled up, eyes cutting easily through the haze of lights and motion. Jayne was trailing behind him, all red lips and focused intention.

But for now, it didn’t matter.

We were dancing.

Yuri spun Juliana. Dae glanced toward Eunice, smiling when he thought no one was watching. I closed my eyes and let the chorus wrap around me.

“This beat is making me move…”

I sang along, quietly as the song trailed to an end

A flash of motion near my shoulder.

A hand slid around my waist—light, barely there—and I spun, caught completely off guard.

Min Ho stood in front of me, close enough to feel the warmth off his skin in the chilled air. His hands disappeared back into his pockets the second I turned to face him, like he hadn’t just touched me. Like it hadn’t happened.

He looked at me.

Really looked.

Like he was piecing together every beat, every breath, every word, every maybe.

The music blurred at the edges of the moment.

Time slowed.

“But God, I wish it was you…”

His eyes flicked down to my mouth, then back up to meet my gaze. He tilted his head like he was about to say something.

And then—

“Min Ho!”

Jayne.

She slid between us in one graceful, practiced move, reaching up without hesitation and planting a perfect kiss to his cheek. Her lipstick left a neat, cherry-red mark on his pale skin.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t smile.

Didn’t look at her.

But it didn’t matter.

Because I had.

And the spell broke.

I blinked, pulse still pounding, and turned away. Eunice was beside me again, hands in the air, eyes shining with music. I bumped her shoulder gently and smiled like it didn’t sting. Like the goosebumps still raising on my arms weren’t from him. She grinned back. The next song started. I didn’t look back.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We didn’t find each other that night.

Or maybe we did — maybe we crossed paths on the stairs, or bumped shoulders by the bathrooms. Maybe he stood behind me in line and didn’t say a word.

Maybe we were just… near.

But I left with flushed cheeks, the taste of mint and sugar on my tongue, and a message waiting for me by the time I got back to my dorm.

??: i think we were close tonight weird, right?

I stared at the screen.

Smiled.

And typed:

ME: not weird. maybe we’re getting warmer.

By morning, the magic had worn off.

The music was gone, the lights were off, and my room smelled vaguely of cheap perfume and the half a hair mask Jayne left open on the windowsill.

She groaned from the other side of the room. “Why is the sun so aggressive?”

“Natural consequence of staying out until two,” I muttered, brushing my teeth in the mirror.

She flopped dramatically onto her back. “Was it even worth it?”

I thought of the music. The mint. The way his hands had gone straight back into his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them after they touched me. The kiss on his cheek that I wasn’t supposed to see.

“Ask me later,” I said.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Monday came fast and cold.

Classes blurred. I stared at my notebook for an hour in History of Korean Literature without writing a single word, except for the name of a novel I hadn’t actually read. It wasn’t until I was halfway to the cafeteria, fingers digging through my bag for my ID, that my phone buzzed again. We hadn't spoken since Friday,

??: ok so now i need to know something important do you believe in fate or are you normal about things

I slowed down on the stairs, letting people pass.

ME: i’m normal about things. but i also believe that the universe has a dark sense of humor. so. middle ground?

A pause.

??: hm. disappointing. i was hoping you’d say yes so i could use it to explain why i can’t stop texting someone i’ve never met.

I bit my lip, smiling like an idiot.

ME: you’re very dramatic. are you sure you’re not a theatre kid? ??: first of all: rude second of all: i’m just passionate and mysterious third: you didn’t actually deny that you’ve been thinking about me too

I stared. Paused. Typed. Deleted. Typed again.

ME: i plead the fifth.

??: pleading the fifth is basically a confession btw like. you didn’t even try to lie suspicious behavior from someone who claims to be “normal” about things ME: maybe i just like to keep a little mystery too balance the dramatic energy you’re bringing to the table ??: i respect that as long as you admit the energy is impressive ME: fine it’s a solid 8.5/10 very main character, very "i journal on rooftops and have an Opinions playlist" ??: 😌 thank you wait hold on do you have an Opinions playlist? ME: obviously. don’t you?

??: ...i do now. ME: i’m afraid to ask what’s on it ??: mostly songs that would play during a dramatic hallway confrontation or while someone slow-mo walks away from an explosion they probably caused ME: wow. the emotional range. ??: i contain multitudes and also: like three Frank Ocean songs i don’t fully understand but feel important

I snorted, laughing under my breath as I walked into the library and dropped into my usual corner seat.

My phone buzzed again.

??: what about you? what’s on yours?

I hesitated, then replied.

ME: okay don’t judge me but it’s a mix of sad girl indie, early 2010s angst, and korean ballads i don’t fully understand but feel important ??: we’re the same ME: i was just thinking that

There was a pause. Long enough for me to wonder if that had been too honest.

But then:

??: i’m gonna say something and you’re not allowed to make it weird i like texting you

My heart did the most annoying little flip.

ME: not weird. i like texting you too.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Lunch was too loud for thinking and too quiet to get away with screaming into the void, so I compromised by putting in my headphones and staring into the abyss of my tray. Lo-fi hummed in my ears. I stabbed at my rice half-heartedly. A shadow slid into the seat across from me. Then another. I looked up—pulled one earbud out. Juliana. Q.

“Why do you look like that?” Juliana asked, pointing her spoon at me.

“Like what?” I blinked.

“Like you just found out you’re the tragic backstory character in someone else’s romance.”

“She’s always like that,” Q said, sliding into the seat next to Juliana. “That’s just her default face.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thank you so much.”

Before either of them could roast me further, the cafeteria door opened—and they both turned toward it.

“Min Ho!” Q waved.

My stomach did something I was determined to ignore.

He sauntered over, hair perfect, uniform half-buttoned in that somehow intentional way, and the air shifted a little as he dropped into the empty seat beside me.

"Hey." His voice was low, casual.

I nodded, pretending the side of my face wasn’t starting to feel warm. “Hey.”

Juliana immediately launched into some story about Yuri trying to hack the music system in the common room, and Q jumped in with commentary, so no one really noticed when I stood.

“Gonna grab a drink,” I mumbled.

As I walked toward the vending machines, Min Ho subtly glanced after me.

Then—without saying a word—he reached out and slid my chair closer to his.

It wasn’t much. Just a few inches. Barely noticeable.

But it was enough.

He pulled his phone from his blazer pocket, holding it low beneath the edge of the table. A message already typed out, his thumb hovering over send.

??: is it you?

He didn’t hit send. Not yet. Instead, he angled his body slightly, hoping he could catch a glimpse of her screen when she came back—just something. A name. A chat bubble. A clue. The seat next to him was warmer now. And closer.

She returned, drink in hand, not noticing the difference until she sat. Then she blinked. Looked down. Then at him. His hands were in his lap. His expression unreadable.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

He gave her a look. Shrugged.

“Nothing. Just…” A slow smile. “You moved closer.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No I didn’t.”

He looked down at his tray, smirking. Didn’t argue. Didn’t explain. The message still sat on his screen. Unsent.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

My lamp was on low. The room was dark aside from the glow of my screen and the twinkle lights taped to the shelf above my desk. Jayne was fast asleep, finally, her face smushed against her pillow, a tear-streaked face mask drying on her cheek.

My phone buzzed first.

??: you up? ME: unfortunately yes my roommate has been emotionally spiraling for the past two hours

??: oof what’s the drama?

ME: you know that guy she’s been obsessed with for like ever? the one she’s “in love with” despite having exchanged like zero real conversations with?

??: i feel very called out right now but go on

ME: well turns out he’s been spending time with this other girl like a lot of time and she found out through some story repost or something he didn’t even tell her he was seeing anyone

??: hey hold on! as a very attractive man who’s got many girls chasing him it’s not always black and white like that

ME: wow okay king of humility go off! 겸손한

??: i’m serious though sometimes people don’t know what they want or they think they do and then someone else shows up and everything gets blurry

ME: sure but if he liked her at all he would’ve said something instead of just letting her hope and spiral and hope again she’s not the type of person who handles maybes well

??: most people aren’t but some people live in the maybes on purpose because if you don’t define anything then technically you didn’t break anything either

ME: okay socrates damn

??: i’m just saying it’s easier to not know than to know and be the bad guy

ME: maybe. but silence still hurts.

??:. yeah it does ...so does watching someone fall for someone who’s not you

ME: is that personal?

??: maybe

ME: look at us two wise, heartbroken strangers with excellent taste in midnight conversations

??: speak for yourself i’m hot and emotionally unavailable

ME: you forgot mysterious

??: right. hot, mysterious, emotionally unavailable triple threat

ME: a real catch

??: careful you’re starting to sound like one of the girls chasing me

ME: maybe i am

(Pause. A long one. Then—)

??: ...that feels like a dangerous maybe

ME: good thing you like those

??: touché

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Jayne was pacing. Not dramatically. Not stomping. Just… pacing. Tight little circles across the dorm floor in her oversized socks, hair up in a claw clip, her hoodie sleeves flapping as she gestured like she was giving a TED Talk titled Why Boys Are the Worst (Especially Hot Korean Ones With Great Bone Structure).

I sipped my iced coffee.

“I mean, we had a moment,” she insisted. “Right? You saw it, didn’t you?”

I nodded vaguely. I had seen something. I just wasn’t sure what.

Jayne flopped onto her bed, groaning into her pillow. “I don’t get it. I touched his arm. I laughed at his joke. I looked amazing.”

“You did,” I said automatically.

“I did! And he was looking at me. I swear he was looking at me like... like something was happening.”

I scrolled through my phone, not really absorbing anything.

“And then he just... disappeared. No follow-up, no messages, no vibe. He hasn’t even looked at me this week. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

I hummed in sympathy. The ice in my cup clinked softly as I tilted it to get the last bit of coffee.

Then— My phone buzzed.

I blinked.

“Huh.”

“What?” Jayne asked, flipping over to look at me.

“Juliana followed me.”

Jayne frowned. “Yuri’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

Jayne narrowed her eyes like this was a conspiracy worth solving. “Have you ever even talked to her?”

I shrugged. “Kind of. The other night at the club. We were with Eunice and Yuri.”

Jayne sat up straighter. “Wait. Is this, like, a sign?”

I blinked. “Of… what?”

“I don’t know!” She flopped back down. “Something. You’re always just casually connecting with people. Meanwhile I’m over here mentally composing sad poetry to a man who won’t even blink in my direction.”

I opened Juliana’s profile. Her grid was a soft rainbow of café pics, candids of her and Yuri, aesthetics, sparkles, and a highlight reel titled Angel Baby that was just blurry selfies of Yuri kissing her cheek.

My thumb hovered over Juliana’s profile, debating whether or not I should like one of her photos. Something friendly. Not too obvious.

Jayne was still talking, muffled slightly now by her hoodie as she dramatically flopped face-down on her bed again.

“I’m just saying,” she mumbled, “if he didn’t want me to like him, why did he smile like that? Why did he do that hair thing?”

“You mean… touch his hair?”

She groaned louder. I smiled, eyes still on my phone as I clicked 'Follow back' Juliana’s grid flickered for a second, then refreshed. A new follower count. And right as I started to lock my screen— Bzzzzzt. A message popped up.

??: what’s your go-to coffee order? i’m asking for very important character analysis reasons

I stared.

Then slowly looked over at my empty iced coffee cup.

Was he psychic?

ME: i don’t think revealing that kind of info is safe. you could figure out too much about me ??: exactly. that’s the goal ME: …iced americano. extra ice. minimal hope. ??: so you’re a tragic protagonist hot ME: hot and sad is kind of my brand ??: noted also just walked past someone in a hoodie that looked suspiciously like the one you showed me you bought the other night had to resist the urge to tap their shoulder and dramatically confess i was in love with their posture ME: that would’ve been a bold move 10/10 would’ve panicked and run ??: maybe next time i’ll risk it

I grinned at my screen, thumbs hovering as I debated a response.

Before I could type anything else—

“Okay,” Jayne said, lifting her face from her pillow with suspicious squinting eyes. “Who is it?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

She sat up like a vulture catching the scent of a secret. “Don’t ‘huh’ me. You’ve been grinning like a weirdo for the past five minutes. And you were texting at the club too. And at lunch yesterday. And for like weeks now.”

“I text a lot of people,” I said casually, locking my phone.

She crossed her arms. “Mmhmm. Is it… Juliana?”

“What? No!”

“Then who?”

“No one.”

“You’re lying.” She leaned across the narrow space between our beds, eyes narrowed. “You only get that look when you’re texting someone who makes your stomach do the swoopy thing.”

“My stomach is not swooping.”

Jayne raised an eyebrow. “So it’s a boy.”

I made a face. “I didn’t say that.”

“Oh my God, it is a boy.”

“I literally never said that.”

Jayne gasped. “Is it that guy from chem lab who asked to borrow your pencil?”

“What? No.”

“Please tell me it’s not the salad guy.”

“Absolutely not the salad guy.”

She squinted. “...Wait. Is it someone I know?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

Jayne squealed, grabbing a pillow and clutching it to her chest. “Okay, now I have to know. What’s his name? What’s he like? Is he cute?”

I smiled and leaned back on my bed, arms behind my head.

“Honestly?” I said. “I don’t know his name.”

Jayne blinked. “You’re texting a boy and you don’t even know his name?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re either insane or in a rom-com.”

“Can’t I be both?”

Jayne groaned. “This is the most frustrating thing you’ve ever done. And you once deleted an entire dating app just because a guy used the wrong ‘your.’”

“That was fair.”

“Ugh,” she said, collapsing back onto her bed. “Fine. Don’t tell me. But if you mysteriously fall in love and elope to Seoul Tower, I’m going to be so mad I wasn’t invited.”

“Noted,” I said.

I reached for my phone again, unlocking the screen.

One new message.

??: you’re quiet should i be concerned? or is this the iced americano talking

I smiled to myself, the grin creeping back without permission.

ME: just my roommate being dramatic ignore the background noise ??: too late i feel like i’ve already been cast as the male lead in something i didn’t audition for. silence ladies there’s enough of me to go around ME: i’ll send you the script you can improvise your lines ??: bold of you to assume i haven’t been improvising this whole time

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The classroom was only half full when I dropped into my usual seat by the window, notebook in front of me, earbuds in but no music playing. Sometimes I just liked the excuse not to talk.

Didn’t always work.

A chair scraped beside me.

“Hey,” Dae said, plopping down with an easy smile, “window crew today?”

I blinked, sliding out one earbud. “Apparently.”

He set his bag on the floor and leaned back like he did this every day. “You know this unit, right?” he asked, flipping open his notebook. “Because I definitely zoned out the last two classes.”

“I know enough,” I said, smirking. “Depends how much help you want.”

“Enough to not embarrass myself would be great.”

“Ambitious.”

Dae laughed. “Look, I can’t have Min Ho making fun of me again. He was quizzing me this morning like some sadistic pop quiz machine.”

“He’s invested in your suffering.”

“Right?” He grinned. “But like, with love.”

I nodded slowly. “Very loving of him to hope you fail.”

“Exactly.” He glanced at my notes. “Your handwriting is terrifyingly neat. That’s intimidating.”

“Guess you’ll just have to suffer through my legible explanations.”

“I will. Gratefully.”

Class started to fill in around us. Q shot Dae a thumbs-up from his usual seat, and Kitty plopped beside him a moment later, already rifling through her bag.

I flipped a page in my notebook, trying to focus, but my phone buzzed in my pocket. Once.

Twice.

I glanced around and carefully checked the screen under the desk.

??: is it weird if i say i think we’re in the same building not 100% but there’s a vibe

I bit back a smile.

ME: a vibe? super specific you sound like a ghost hunter ??: i just mean the air feels… suspiciously smart and a little sarcastic which means you might be nearby ME: or maybe you’re just sitting next to someone suspiciously nice that seems like he volunteers and has a bedtime ??: 🤯 caught did you bug my phone? ME: maybe i am your phone ??: ok that got existential real fast

Dae flipped open his textbook with a sigh. “Pray for me.”

I gave a half-smile, but my attention drifted almost immediately. The hum of voices in the room. The scrape of chairs. My phone buzzed, soft and low, against the desk.

I glanced down.

??: it’s probably unlikely we’re that close again unless we secretly go to the same school which would be wild

My heart jumped a little.

ME: yeah, that would be a pretty insane coincidence borderline stalker-movie levels of fate ??: exactly like the universe is shipping something which is honestly kind of rude of it

I bit my cheek to keep from smiling. The irony of sitting here — in class, texting someone in class — wasn’t lost on me.

ME: well tell the universe to cool it i’m trying to pass chem ??: same except i’m also trying to figure out if you like sour candy or not both are important for my academic growth

I shook my head, tucking the phone back under my notebook just as the teacher walked in. Dae leaned over to ask me something about electrons, and I tried — really tried — to focus.

"Alright," the teacher said, clapping her hands once as the last few students settled in. "New unit, new partners. I’ve randomized the pairings — no complaints."

A quiet ripple of groans moved through the classroom. I kept my eyes on my notebook, hoping for literally anyone who wouldn’t be obnoxious.

“Y/N and Dae.”

Dae turned toward me with a grin already forming. “Awesome.”

I sighed. Not obnoxious — just enthusiastic.

“Great,” I muttered, but I wasn’t mad. He was actually smart, and more importantly, not the type to make me do all the work.

The teacher rattled off the rest of the pairings, then gave us our assignment sheet.

“You want to do this tomorrow?” Dae asked, already leaning in. “I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Sure. Library?”

He winced. “My dorm is pretty big, and empty on Saturday mornings. You’d actually be able to hear yourself think.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So… your dorm?”

He shrugged. “If that’s not weird?”

I hesitated. It wasn’t weird… just unfamiliar. But Dae was one of the safest people I knew here.

“Alright,” I said. “Tomorrow morning. Don’t sleep through it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He grinned, tapping his pencil against his notebook, and I gave him a small, amused shake of my head before looking back down.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Saturday morning was quiet on campus, the kind of soft stillness that only came with early hours and a school full of students who’d stayed out too late the night before.

I knocked lightly on the dorm door, gripping my iced coffee and trying not to look like I’d already checked my reflection four times on the walk over.

Dae opened the door in sweats and a lopsided hoodie, hair wet like he’d just showered. “Morning,” he said, stepping aside. “You’re early.”

“You said eleven-thirty,” I shrugged, stepping into the room.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come at eleven-thirty.”

I gave him a look. “I take chemistry — and punctuality — very seriously.”

He laughed, leading me to his desk. “That’s exactly why I picked to sit next you.”

The dorm was warm and smelled faintly of toast and body wash. It was so much bigger than my dorm, they. Dae had so much more room to breathe. It was a weird mix of each of the boys that lived here, Dae’s things were neat, laptop already open. The other stuff — not so much. Hoodie on the floor, charger tangled, a designer cologne bottle, sports gear tossed aside. A faint hum of soft music filtered from behind a closed door. I didn't have to guess whose it was.

We started working — him half-focused, me fully — and fell into an easy rhythm. It didn’t take long for Dae to relax. He leaned back as I explained something about molecular orbitals and made a dumb joke about chemistry being a better matchmaker than Kitty.

I rolled my eyes, laughing quietly. “Do you say that about every girl in your class?”

“Only the ones who don’t hate me,” he grinned.

And then— A door creaked. I didn’t turn, but I heard the shuffle of feet and the unmistakable thump of someone bumping into a table.

“Dae,” a familiar voice croaked, low and still raspy with sleep. “If you and Kitty are gonna be so loud this early, I’d at least like a warning.”

I froze. Dae laughed, entirely unbothered. “It’s not Kitty, man.”

Behind me, I heard him walk into the small kitchenette, bare feet on tile, a cabinet door opening. And then, silence.

“…Oh.”

I turned.

Min Ho stood there, blinking at me over the lip of a coffee mug he hadn’t poured anything into yet.

His hair was a full-on mess — fluffy and wild, like he’d rolled out of a dream and into the kitchen. Worse, he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

And unfortunately for me, I absolutely noticed.

His eyes met mine, and I could feel the second realization hit both of us. There was this brief flicker of something — surprise, discomfort, something close to curiosity — before he glanced away, rubbing his hand through his hair like he could undo the moment.

“Y/N,” he said, like he was reminding himself.

“Min Ho,” I replied.

Dae looked between us, confused. “You guys… know each other?”

Min Ho didn’t answer. He just reached for the instant coffee and turned his back.

“Sort of,” I said, forcing a small smile. “The school’s not that big.”

“Right,” Min Ho said, his voice casual — too casual. “Small world.”

I gave a quick shrug, casual. “We really met at that, uh… last Friday. When we were all at that rooftop place.”

“Ohhh,” Dae nodded. “Oh Right, yeah! You were there too. That makes sense.”

Min Ho set the mug down with a soft clink, not looking at either of us. “Small world.” He repeats.

I forced a smile and turned back to the desk, opening my laptop. “Anyway. Let’s figure out how not to blow up the lab on Monday.”

Dae laughed, pulling his notes closer. “You say that like it’s a possibility.”

“It’s always a possibility with you.”

Behind us, Min Ho padded back toward his room, slower this time. I didn’t look, but I felt it again — the shift in energy. Like he was still trying to piece something together.

He didn’t say anything else.

But the silence he left behind buzzed like a low frequency.

And maybe it was all in my head… But I could’ve sworn he lingered in the doorway just a second longer than necessary.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The moment I walked through our door, Jayne launched at me like a heat-seeking missile.

“YOU WERE IN THEIR ROOM?!”

I didn’t even get a chance to put my coffee down. “Hi to you too.”

She grabbed the cup straight from my hand and took a dramatic sip. “What was it like? Did it smell nice? How does it look? Did you see their beds? Did it smell like him? Or expensive soap? Or testosterone and wealth?”

I dropped my bag by the door. “First of all, you’re unwell. Second, no. I didn’t see their rooms.”

Jayne’s face fell. “What?”

“They’ve got one of those bigger dorms,” I said, toeing off my shoes. “Like… common area up front, bedrooms behind closed doors. I wasn’t invited past the desk, Jayne.”

“But you were in the apartment.” She grabbed a pillow from my bed and hugged it to her chest. “You breathed the same air.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you gonna frame that sentence?”

“Don’t tempt me,” she muttered. “Was he there? Did you see him?”

“Unfortunately.”

Jayne bolted upright. “Unfortunately?! What does that mean?!”

I groaned and flopped onto my bed. “He came out halfway through studying. No shirt. Messy hair. Thought I was Kitty and told us to keep it down next time. Then he saw me and just… froze.”

Jayne stared at me, eyes huge. “That’s it. That’s the end of me. I’m deceased. You saw him shirtless and in his element.”

“I was not trying to see anything,” I said. “It was a jump scare.”

“But like… a hot jump scare?”

I rolled over so I didn’t have to look at her anymore. “You need help.”

“You need to appreciate how close you were to becoming Mrs. Jayne Min Ho Moon.”

I laughed into my blanket, but somewhere under the humor, the image of him standing in the kitchen — mug in hand, voice still rough from sleep — stayed burned in my brain.

And worse, I didn’t even hate it.

Later that night, I curled deeper into my comforter, my phone resting on my chest. The room was dim, lit only by Jayne’s lamp across the room — she was at her desk, humming along to a worship playlist, journaling with her usual rainbow of pens.

I hesitated, then opened my messages.

ME: can I ask for some crazy person advice?

A beat. Then:

??: always my specialty. what flavor of crazy we talkin

I chewed my lip, typing slowly.

ME: you know how my roommate is insane and believes she’s in love with some guy she’s spoken to for like half a second? ??: ah yes the delulu epidemic tragic but common ME: yeah well I think maybe I’m starting to feel something for him and I’ve said maybe five words to him am I losing my mind?

It took a little longer this time. I stared at the screen, wondering if I’d overstepped, if this was too weird or too soon or just too much.

??: i don’t think feelings are crazy they don’t usually follow logic they just… show up and sometimes the ones that come out of nowhere hit the hardest stay the longest Ive felt my heart thud unevenly over what should be nothing. ME: so I’m not a total maniac? ??: you might be a little doomed but definitely not a maniac

I smiled down at the screen.

ME: doomed how ??: the fun kind the kind that might just be worth it

I stared at his last message, trying to keep from grinning too obviously. Across the room, Jayne had put on a face mask and was now lying upside down on her bed with her legs up the wall, completely unaware of the tiny storm happening in my chest.

Another buzz.

??: get some sleep we’ll continue our descent into madness tomorrow 🖤

I blinked at the little heart.

Not a red one. Not too serious. Just… a black heart. The exact shade of sarcasm I needed.

I typed back slowly, carefully.

ME: night, enabler

Then I locked my phone and rolled onto my side, heart stupidly full.

Because it was just a little emoji. Just a word or two.

But it felt like maybe… someone saw me. Even if they didn’t quite know me yet.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

It was one of those perfect slow Saturdays — warm sun, cool breeze, the low hum of the city moving around me.

I sat tucked into the corner of a tiny café patio, earbuds in, chin resting on one hand as I tore off bits of a chocolate croissant and sipped my Iced Americano. My table was shaded just enough, the noise of cars and bikes and passing conversation distant under my playlist.

I didn’t even notice him at first. I was mid-sip, scrolling idly through my camera roll, when a sharp knock-knock sound startled me — two knuckles rapping lightly against the metal tabletop.

I looked up. And choked. Only slightly, just stupidly choked on a mouthful of coffee. Min Ho was standing there, phone still in one hand, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. I swallowed quickly, coughing into my sleeve. He raised an eyebrow.

“Can I sit?” he asked, head tilted slightly. “Or is your… friend here?”

I blinked. My brain lagged behind the moment.

“Jayne?” I said, wiping the corner of my mouth with a napkin.

He gave a tiny shrug. “Yeah. The one who looks at me with big eyes like I ran over her dog.”

“It's definitely not in that way,” I said weakly. His smirk widened. I looked at the empty chair across from me, then back up at him. “She’s not here.”

“Good,” he said simply, and slid into the seat.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I tugged one earbud out. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned back in the chair, finally tucking his phone into his coat pocket. “I was walking. Talking to my mom. She was asking if I’m eating enough and if I’m dating anyone yet. I told her to lower her expectations.” I snorted into my coffee.

He nodded toward my drink. “Extra ice?”

“Is there another way?”

Min Ho smiled at me across the table, easy and soft, like he wasn’t the most intimidating boy at our school or the guy my roommate thought she was destined to marry. And for the first time, it felt like maybe… maybe he didn’t want to be that guy around me. Maybe he just wanted to be him. He drummed his fingers once on the tabletop before settling them in his lap. The silence that fell wasn’t awkward — just light. Quiet. Like neither of us minded it.

“So,” he said, glancing at the pastry still in front of me. “Chocolate croissant?”

“It’s a personality trait at this point,” I replied.

He grinned. “I can respect that.”

A breeze passed through, catching a piece of my hair and sending it across my face. I brushed it away, catching the way his eyes followed the movement, lingering for just a second too long before he looked away.

“What about you?” I asked. “What’s your personality pastry?”

“Pain au raisin,” he said immediately. “But I don’t eat them in public. It’s too… exposed.”

I laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” he said, eyes wide with mock offense. “You can’t be Min Ho Moon and eat swirly bread with raisins in public. There’s a reputation to maintain.”

“You’re literally wearing sunglasses indoors half the time. I think your reputation’s safe.”

He cracked a full smile then — the kind that made his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. The kind that made my stomach dip a little. My iced coffee suddenly tasted sharper.

He leaned forward a bit, elbows on the table. “So what are you listening to?”

I hesitated, then turned my phone so he could see my screen.

“Troye Sivan,” he said, reading it aloud. “Obviously.”

“Obviously?”

“You just have that look.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What look?”

He took a sip of his drink like he was thinking about how much to say. Then: “Like you’d write entire essays in your Notes app if someone made you feel something.” A beat. “Not in a bad way,” he added quickly, watching my expression. “It’s… kind of cool. I also remember you kind of relaxing when Yuri got it played that night”

I blinked, caught somewhere between flattered and mildly exposed.

“I actually don’t even use the Notes app,” I said, recovering with a shrug. “Feels cursed.”

“See? Even that’s poetic.”

The waiter came by and dropped off his drink, offering me a polite smile. Min Ho thanked him in his soft Korean, a tone I only ever really heard in classes and from strangers — and I was reminded again how real he was. How lived-in this world was for him, while I still sometimes felt like a guest.

He caught me watching and gave me a sideways glance. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, then took a sip of my drink. “Just… wondering if you’re always this good at charming people.”

That got a low laugh out of him. “I’m not charming.”

“You kind of are.”

He looked at me for a second, as if trying to tell if I meant it. Then he glanced down at his coffee, suddenly quiet.

I didn’t press. A moment later, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen. Excitedly expecting to see '??' pop up.

JAYNE: r u alive. need groceries (also want croquette). send funds.

I sighed, already pulling out my wallet to send her money.

“Friend?” he asked.

“More like a cryptid that lives in my room,” I muttered, and he smiled again.

“Sounds like a lot.”

“She’s… intense. But loyal.” I glanced back up at him.

He was already looking at me.

And it wasn’t a romantic look. Not entirely. It was just curious. Like he was still trying to solve something about me. Put a piece in place.

“Can I walk you back?” he asked, lifting his drink and gesturing toward the street. “If you're heading that way.”

I blinked. “Oh—uh. Yeah. Sure.”

I stood, grabbed my bag, and tossed the last bit of croissant into a napkin. When I turned, he was already waiting at the sidewalk, hand in his pockets, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, sipping from the plastic cup.

He didn’t say anything. Just gave me a small smile as I fell into step beside him. And we walked. The walk back wasn’t silent. We talked — easy things at first. Our favorite spots in the city, how much we missed decent cereal, the worst outfits we’d seen in the halls lately. Min Ho pointed out a store where he’d once bought a sweater “so offensively soft it made Dae angry,” and I told him about the time Jayne tried to smuggle a rice cooker into our dorm under her coat. But beneath the surface, something else simmered. Not quite tension. Not quite calm. Something that to me felt unspoken. Like we were tiptoeing toward something I didn't want to name. We reached my dorm too quickly. I stopped at the steps, turning slightly to face him. He didn’t say anything at first — just rocked on his heels, his hands tucked in the pockets of his coat.

“Thanks for walking me,” I said, my voice a little too polite.

“No problem.”

The quiet swelled. Not heavy. But waiting.

I looked up at him then, and he was watching me like he was memorizing something. My face. The sound of my voice. The way I clutched my coffee cup even though it was empty.

And for a split second, I thought — if I leaned in right now, would he meet me halfway? Jayne’s voice echoed in my head like a siren: He looked at me, Y/N. Like maybe it was fate. And then, just as loud: I think maybe I’m starting to feel something for him, and I’ve said maybe five words to him… am I losing my mind? My guilt crawled up the back of my neck like a cold sweat. I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not like this. Not with him. Not when part of me still got a stupid fluttery feeling every time my phone lit up with a message from someone who didn’t even have a name. Min Ho smiled then — just a little. Like he didn’t want to scare the moment off.

“I’ll see you around?” he asked.

I nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Totally. 잘 자요 민호”

And before anything else could happen — before I could lose my nerve and say something reckless — I turned and jogged up the stairs. I didn’t look back. Not even once. My phone buzzed after I’d already curled up in bed. I hesitated before reaching for it.

?? : can i run a crazy person problem by you

I sat up a little straighter, thumb hovering.

ME : always. hit me.

A pause.

Three dots.

Gone.

Back again.

?? : i thought i was in love with a girl. like, fully. but i backed down because it didn’t feel right. not because of her. because of me. it just… wasn’t what i thought it was.

I read it twice. My fingers hovered, unsure of where he was going. I waited.

?? : now there’s this other girl. everyone thinks we’re together which we’re not. and i don’t want the rumor to grow legs especially when… i think i might actually have feelings for someone else.

My stomach flipped.

I tried not to let it mean anything. Tried not to over-read the spaces between his words.

But still.

ME : okay do you want my advice or do you want me to just say “that sucks man” and offer you a virtual cookie ?? : both. cookie first pls. ME : 🍪 ← gluten free because i care but real advice? you don’t owe the rumour anything and if this “someone else” is even kind of special you should be honest to the people spreading it and to yourself

There was a long pause. A minute. Then two.

And then:

?? : what if she doesn’t feel the same what if i ruin it My chest ached. ME : if she’s the right person you won’t ruin it by being honest you’ll ruin it by pretending you don’t feel anything at all

Another pause.

And then, unexpectedly:

?? : you always say the exact thing i need to hear are you sure we haven’t met? ME : not sure but i kinda hope we haven’t because this version of you? he’s becoming one of my favorite people ?? : careful. i might start catching feelings

My hands stalled.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Lunch was quiet. The good kind of quiet — a soft buzz of conversation around us, the distant clatter of trays, and the faint echo of laughter from a table somewhere behind me.

Julianna sat across from me, picking at a bowl of jjajangmyeon and humming under her breath to the music in her earbuds — one in, one out. Her lip gloss was a little smudged and her braids were tied back with a red ribbon today. Very main character energy, but in that effortless Julianna way.

I stabbed a piece of tteok with my chopsticks and leaned back.

She glanced up. “You’ve been in your head the whole time. Something up?”

I hesitated, then gave a crooked smile. “You’re scarily perceptive.”

She grinned. “It’s a gift. Spill.”

I exhaled, playing with the straw in my iced tea. “Just... stuff. People. Complicated feelings.”

Julianna raised a brow. “Ohhh. The boy-shaped kind of complicated?”

I gave her a look. “You’re relentless.”

“I’m right, though.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Probably. I don’t even know if he likes me. And there’s this whole other layer of—” I stopped myself. Bit my lip. “Let’s just say it’s messy.”

Julianna nodded, chewing thoughtfully. “Messy’s real. But I will say this—if he’s worth it, it won’t stay messy forever. At some point, he’ll either clean it up or you’ll realize you deserve better.”

I blinked. “That was surprisingly profound.”

She smirked. “I have layers. Like a parfait. Or an onion. Depends on the day.”

I laughed, and something in my chest loosened.

We ate in comfortable silence for a while before Julianna leaned in a little, voice low. “Okay but… it’s not that guy, right? Jayne’s guy?”

I froze for a heartbeat too long.

Julianna’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

“Shhh!”

“I’m not judging!” she said, grinning but not unkind. “Just… wow. That is some drama.”

“I know,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Feelings don’t wait for permission,” she said softly. “But maybe be careful where you step. Especially around Jayne.”

“I am,” I said. “I’m trying.”

Julianna just gave me a look. “Try a little harder. But also… be honest with yourself, okay? Don’t let guilt stop you from being happy.”

I nodded. And I almost meant it.

Eunice slid her tray onto the table with a dramatic sigh and flopped into the seat next to Julianna. “If I hear the word ‘midterm’ one more time today, I’m staging a walkout.”

Julianna snorted. “You mean another walkout?”

“I mean a real one this time. With signs. And chants.”

I smiled into my iced tea just as my phone buzzed against the table.

??: do you think we’d be friends if we were bugs?

I pressed my lips together, trying to smother the laugh bubbling up. I could picture him, wherever he was — probably somewhere equally chaotic — grinning like he’d just solved quantum physics.

Julianna narrowed her eyes at me, sharp and eagle-eyed as always. “Okay. Who was that?”

“What?” I asked, feigning innocence way too badly.

“You smiled at your phone like it paid you a compliment and a slice of cake.”

I hesitated, about to deny it again — but then Eunice leaned in, eyebrows raised with interest. “Who was what?”

“Y/N’s smiling-at-her-phone person.” Julianna glanced between before a gasp, mildly dramatic. “Oh my god, wait, is that him?”

I shook my head quickly, but I couldn’t stop the heat from rising up my neck. “No— I mean, maybe. But… not the himyou’re thinking of.”

They blinked at me in sync.

I sighed, tugging my chair a little closer to the table. We huddled like some secret council, the cafeteria noise bubbling around us like white noise.

“I maybe think,” I began slowly, “I sort of like Min Ho. A little bit.”

Both of them froze, eyes wide.

Eunice gaped. “Wait. Min Ho— Jayne’s Min Ho?”

“I know,” I whispered, burying my face in my hands for a second. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. And I haven’t told her. And I’m not doing anything about it— I’m just… it’s just a feeling.”

Julianna leaned in closer. “Okay but if that’s not who’s texting you…”

I looked between them, then let the words tumble out. “There was this date. Awful blind date. Like— ‘crypto bro anti-feminist’ level bad. And I was ranting to Jayne about it and accidentally sent it to the wrong number. But the person texted back. And we’ve been talking ever since. Like, really talking.”

They both just stared.

Eunice blinked first. “You’re telling me you have a mystery text person crush and a real life almost-crush on Min Ho?”

“Pretty much.”

“Girl.”

Julianna grabbed a fry off Eunice’s tray and popped it in her mouth. “Okay. What do you feel?”

I exhaled, pressing the cool plastic of my cup to my forehead for a second. “When we were at that rooftop place, and he came over, it was like… he really saw me. Like I wasn’t just someone standing next to Jayne. The way he touched my waist, how gentle he was— it felt special.”

They were both quiet, listening.

“And when we walked from the café… he didn’t have to come with me. But he did. And we talked. Really talked. I didn’t feel invisible.”

Eunice nodded, slowly. “Okay. That’s real.”

“And with the mystery texter…” I hesitated. “It’s different. It’s like—he knows me without seeing me. Or maybe becausehe hasn’t seen me. It’s easier to be myself.”

Julianna smiled a little. “Sounds like you’re falling for two people.”

“I think they might be the same person,” I said quietly. Like I hadn't quite decided if I believed it myself.

And that silenced them both.

For a moment.

Eunice blinked. “That would be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

Julianna nodded slowly. “Or the most painful.”

“I know,” I whispered.

They exchanged a glance.

Min Ho dropped into the seat next to me without saying a word, his tray clattering down with a mix of fries and something that looked vaguely like it had been microwaved twice.

Dae and Yuri followed behind him, falling into easy banter with Julianna and Eunice like they’d all grown up together. I was about to turn to Julianna when I felt the light scrape of plastic—Min Ho sliding a small bowl of fries from his tray to mine.

I blinked. “What’s this for?”

He didn’t look at me, just shrugged, casual. “You seem like you’d like them, I suppose.”

I fought the smile that tugged at my mouth, picking up one of the fries and biting into it with an exaggerated crunch. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

Min Ho still didn’t look over, but the corner of his mouth tilted up. “Just a hunch.”

Before I could say more, a voice rang out across the cafeteria. “There you are!”

Jayne, trailing behind Kitty, arrived like a gust of over-perfumed wind, a big smile stretched across her face. “We were looking everywhere.”

“Yeah, all the girls should sit together,” she added pointedly, wedging a chair between me and Min Ho in a way that felt more strategic than social.

I shifted slightly to make room, trying not to feel irritated as her elbow jostled mine. Jayne turned immediately toward Min Ho, launching into some story about a film class or a coffee stand—I wasn’t sure which, I’d already tuned it out.

Instead, I caught Julianna’s eye across the table. She raised an eyebrow, barely tilting her head.

I glanced down at my phone, where a message sat unsent, hovering in the chat window with ??:.

ME: if you were a bug i’d probably give you to someone else but like… that’s because i’m panicking

Julianna nodded. Eunice gave a tiny thumbs-up beneath the table. I hit send.

We waited.

Julianna didn’t speak—she was watching him. Closely. Tracking the almost-imperceptible glance he cast toward me, the way his hand slipped under the table, thumb flicking across his phone. A second later, mine buzzed.

Min Ho kept nodding along as Jayne talked, smiling politely, but didn’t even glance down at the phone in his hand. My phone lit up on the table. He just put his away, turned slightly toward Dae, and then—

I opened the message without thinking.

??: i’d let you hang out on all my flowers and probably hand you my soul too tbh. no pressure tho.

I stared at the screen. A smile crept in before I could stop it.

“He knows,” Julianna whispered, her voice low and certain as she leaned toward me and Eunice.

Yuri, overhearing, turned her head. “What baby?”

Julianna barely skipped a beat. “Midterm! Eunice, Y/N, and I booked a table at the library. Completely forgot.”

Kitty frowned. “Do you guys even have a class together?”

Eunice was already standing, grabbing trays in a frenzy. “Remedial Romantic Tragedies. It’s new.”

I snorted and tried to cover it with a cough.

“We’ll be late,” Julianna said seriously, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “The metaphorical heartbreak section fills up fast.”

Yuri squinted at us but didn’t question it. Jayne looked over once as I stood, her smile faltering just for a second. But Min Ho didn’t look at her—he watched me instead, his expression unreadable, but his eyes locked on mine as if waiting for something more.

I turned and left with the girls. We burst into the quiet hallway like we were escaping a heist. Julianna led the way, sharp-heeled boots clacking dramatically against the tile, and Eunice clutched our half-empty trays like they were treasure chests.

“Midterm prep,” Julianna whispered with faux urgency as we passed a group of confused-looking first years. “Crucial.”

Once we were around the corner and out of sight, we collapsed against the wall outside the library doors, breathless with laughter.

Eunice smacked my arm gently. “Okay, let's go.”

I tucked my phone into my sleeve and ran both hands down my face. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“You like him,” Julianna said simply, staring at me. “Min Ho.”

“Maybe,” I mumbled.

She raised a brow. “Do you know how long Jayne has liked him?”

“Forever,” I said. “She’s told me every detail. Even when he sneezed in a 'weirdly attractive way.'”

“And yet.” Eunice gave me a slow look, mischievous. “You’re the one he gave his fries to.”

“I didn’t ask for them.”

“You didn’t need to,” Julianna said. “That boy practically put a bow on them.”

I leaned my head back against the wall. “This is a disaster.”

“Yeah,” Eunice said. “But like, the fun kind. The ‘slow-motion, hands-brushing-in-a-crowd, somebody-write-a-Netflix-script-about-it’ kind.”

Julianna stepped closer. “And he's totally texting guy?”

I sighed. “He’s still…”

Still in my head. Still making me laugh. Still texting me like we’re sharing some strange parallel existence, like we’re leaning closer without realising it.

“Still something,” I admitted quietly. “I just don’t know what.”

Eunice looped her arm through mine. “Well, the universe seems to be unspooling in your favour right now. Let it.”

“But Jayne—”

“She likes the version of him she’s created in her head,” Julianna cut in. “You like the real one.”

I went quiet, heart hammering.

Eunice nudged open the library door with her hip. “Now come on. We’re here to fake midterm prep and whisper about our love triangle in the reference section like well-behaved delinquents.” We slid into a booth near the back, the kind with high walls and soft cushions, and buried our trays beneath some borrowed books. We didn’t even pretend to study.

Instead, we whispered and scrolled and dissected every glance, every emoji, every possible meaning behind the word fries.

I didn’t text back right away. But I stared at the message more times than I could count. Eunice, Julianna and I talked for ages about our new fake class and understanding what I had gotten myself into when;

?? : do you think we’d still like each other if none of this was anonymous?

I read it once. Twice. I wasn’t sure if I liked him more in theory or in reality. Or if they were… the same. I took a breath, typed two words, thumb hovering before I hit send.

ME : Min Ho?

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

TO BE CONTINUED???????

this has been in my drafts for AGESSSSSSSSS sorry just wanted it out and didn't wanna delete it, no clue if there's gonna be an audience for this one

edit: