PeaQueue

He told himself she was just playing. That it was a game to her, like it always was. She flirted with everyone, he wasn't special. But somewhere along the way, he started catching the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention. Started noticing how her smile faltered when he didn't respond. How her voice dipped a little lower when they were alone.

And lately. . .he wasn't sure anymore.

Because if it was all just a joke, she wouldn't be so careful. Wouldn't cover up the silence with a laugh or pretend it didn't matter when he didn't say anything back. She acted like it was harmless. Like nothing she said meant anything.

But (YN) wasn't stupid.

He could see it, underneath the teasing, there was something real. Something nervous and reckless and a little too honest for someone who always acted like she was untouchable.

And maybe that was what got to him.

She thought she was hiding it by making it a joke. If she said she liked him with a smirk, he'd just roll his eyes and move on, and no one would get hurt.

But he saw through that.

Worse—he felt it.

And every time she said his name like it was just another game, it got harder to pretend he didn't want to say hers back. Not as a joke. Not as a defense. But as something that meant more

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The morning sun filtered through the classroom windows, casting soft light across the desks. It was just another ordinary day, or so (YN) thought. He sat in his usual seat by the window, engrossed in his textbook, ignoring the soft hum of conversation around him. The classroom was alive with chatter, but it didn't concern him, not with a test coming up.

That's when she walked in.

Jeong Hayeon.

She always had a way of commanding attention without trying, with that effortless confidence and that ever-present smile. She made her way into the classroom, greeting anybody that greeted her with each of her steps.

The girl moved down the aisle of seats and she made sure her fingers swiped his shoulder as she passed, a swipe that was too intentional for it not to be.

"Morning, (YN)~" Her voice carried the same playful tone it always did, light and effortless, like she hadn't spent the entire walk to class thinking about whether or not to say anything at all.

He didn't look up. Just turned a page in his textbook, slow and steady.

"Don't you have anyone else to bother?" He said, his voice calm. Not annoyed. Not exactly.

But distant.

Hayeon didn't answer right away. She slipped into the empty seat beside him, not hers, not anyone's really, and settled in like she belonged there. Her bag hit the floor with a soft thud. Her elbow rested against the desk. Chin in hand, eyes on him.

This was familiar.

Her posture, her tone, her timing, it was all practiced, almost casual.

"You say that like you don't secretly enjoy my company," she murmured.

A pause.

"I don't."

Still not looking at her.

Still that same even tone.

She smiled anyway, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear like his words hadn't grazed her at all. "You're no fun in the mornings."

He didn't respond.

Outside the window, the wind stirred the trees. A bird fluttered onto the sill and then darted away again. Inside the classroom, students chatted, footsteps echoed, chairs scraped against the floor, but at their desk, the silence grew.

Hayeon shifted slightly. Not enough to make a scene, but enough to look at whatever he was reading.

She told herself it didn't matter.

Just part of the routine.

But still, her eyes lingered on him. Watching the way his jaw tensed when he was focused. The quiet way he breathed through his nose, always steady, always measured. He was a world away from her chaos, her unpredictability.

Maybe that was why she couldn't let him go.

"You'd be cuter if you smiled more," She said eventually, softer this time.

The words weren't as sharp as they usually were. Not a jab. Not a joke.

He paused.

Not long.

Just enough to let her know he'd heard.

Then he turned another page.

And said nothing.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The space between them was too small, too quiet, too charged with all the things she'd never meant to feel, and all the things he refused to show.

So Hayeon did what she always did.

She smiled through his silence.

"So are you walking home again later?" She asked, watching him flip to the next page.

This time, his head tilted slightly at her voice. A flicker of acknowledgment. Then back down to the book.

"Why?" He asked, voice low.

Hayeon leaned in a little, propping her chin on her palm. "Just wondering if I should accidentally bump into you again on the way."

"I'd rather you didn't."

She gasped, pretending to take offense. "What, you don't like my company?"

"No."

"Liar," She said with a grin. "You totally look forward to it."

"I don't," He muttered.

"You do. You just have a terrible way of showing it."

He turned another page.

"You know," She continued, drawing slow circles on the desk with her fingertip, "most people would be flattered if someone like me walked with them after school."

He raised an eyebrow slightly, still not meeting her eyes. "Someone like you?"

"Yeah. Pretty, charming, effortlessly cool. I'm kind of a catch, you know."

That made him glance at her, just a short, deadpan look. "And so humble, too."

"Exactly," She said brightly, missing, or pretending to miss, the sarcasm. "But I guess I'll let you pretend you don't care."

"I don't have to pretend," He said.

That should've shut her down. Should've made her give up, roll her eyes, go back to her seat. But instead, Hayeon just smiled wider.

Because even if he wasn't looking at her, he hadn't told her to leave.

And that was something.

She watched him for a moment, then pulled something out of her bag and slid it across his desk—a small candy, wrapped in shiny red foil.

"What's this?"

"A bribe," She said. "In case you were thinking of being nice to me today."

He stared at it, then at her. "Do you usually have to bribe people for basic decency?"

"No, but I'm special. You should feel honored."

"I don't," He replied, but he didn't push the candy away either.

She leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "I'll take what I can get."

The bell rang moments later, and students began shuffling to their seats. Hayeon didn't move right away. She let the noise wash over them, the usual start-of-class bustle.

Then she said, almost absently, "See you after school, then."

"Didn't say I'd walk with you."

"Didn't say you had a choice."

He looked up. Their eyes met.

For a second, there was something unspoken in the space between them. Something sharp and soft and confusing.

Then Hayeon winked, grabbed her bag, and walked back to her seat like nothing had happened.

(YN) stared at the candy for a moment longer.

Then quietly tucked it into his pencil case.

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.

.

It hadn't always been like this for (YN).

Back then, he was just a shadow slipping through the halls, quiet, almost invisible, content to keep his world folded neatly inside the pages he scribbled on. He never sought attention, never wanted to be noticed. The kind of guy people glanced at once and forgot by the next class.

Until that day in gym class.

The rain was relentless, drumming on the roof and sending everyone running back inside. Most students huddled under the eaves, voices rising in chatter and laughter, phones out, waiting for the storm to pass.

But (YN) found a quiet corner. Sitting on the low wall by the edge of the building, hood pulled over his head like a shield, the rain still soaking his shoes. He was alone, flipping through a book with an intensity that made everything else fade away.

He didn't care about the rain. Didn't care about the noise or the crowd.

He was calm. Not distant or trying to seem cool, just utterly himself. Unbothered by the chaos around him.

Maybe that was what caught her attention.

Because it wasn't normal to see someone so steady in the middle of the storm.

After that day, she started watching him—not in a way that made her proud, but she couldn't stop herself.

She made excuses to talk to him, stumbling over the simplest lines—asking for a pencil she didn't need, complimenting his hair, bumping into him with clumsy, meaningless comments.

And every time, he responded the same way: deadpan, unmoved, like nothing really phased him.

Not cold, never cruel. Just. . .indifferent.

And maybe that was what made her keep on coming back

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.

.

As their day in school continued, so did her moments where she tried to grab his attention and try to fluster him. Passed messages during class, adjusting her seat closer to his when she pretended to need help and she even sat with him during lunch and the worst part was that she tried to feed him.

But now, the final bell rang, and chairs scraped back as students began filing out of the classroom in waves. (YN) packed his things methodically, not in a rush, letting the chaos pass him by like always.

He'd just slung his bag over one shoulder when a familiar voice popped up beside him.

"You still going my way, or should I find someone else to torment?"

Hayeon.

She was already walking backward in front of him, arms crossed over her chest, the grin on her face just barely masking something else underneath. Something tighter. Something nervous.

He sighed, mostly out of habit.

"I never said I was walking with you."

"You never said I couldn't bump into you when you were going out."

He stared at her. She stared back, unbothered.

And like every other day this week, he said nothing and started walking.

She fell into step beside him.

The first few minutes passed in silence. The sun had started its slow descent, casting gold over the rooftops. Students fanned out down the streets in clusters, but the two of them kept their distance, just enough to be separate, close enough to keep pace.

Hayeon swung her bag lightly as she walked, the strap creaking with every motion.

"Did you actually study for the math quiz?" She asked eventually, peeking at him from the corner of her eye.

"Yes."

"Show-off."

He didn't reply.

Another beat passed. The quiet between them wasn't exactly comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. It was. . .charged. Like they both knew what this was but refused to say it out loud.

She nudged his arm gently with her elbow. "Hey. Smile. You're walking home with a pretty girl."

"Why would I smile when this pretty girl forcibly joins my walk home."

"Hey, I wouldn't say I force-Wait, did you call me pretty?"

He suddenly snapped his head at her. "What? No! I'm just using your words against you." He raised his voice more than what he would through a day.

Hayeon blinked.

Then she grinned.

Wide. Victorious.

"You called me pretty."

"I didn't—"

"You so did."

She was walking with a little more bounce now, like she'd won something. Like his flustered expression was a gold medal and she had been training her whole life to earn it.

They stopped before a street crossing with its lights blinking in red. As he stood, he could feel her stare still on him. Lingering, as if she was expecting another reaction out of him but he stared forward, his face stale and bland.

Not long after that, people began to pile up on their side of the crossing with one of them holding a leashed corgi.

The corgi was small, fluffy, and alarmingly friendly. Its tongue lolled out the side of its mouth as it panted excitedly, stubby legs bouncing in place. It tugged at the leash with surprising energy, tail wagging like it was on a mission.

That mission, apparently, was Jeong Hayeon.

"Aww," She said, crouching without hesitation. "Look at you, aren't you the cutest thing ever?"

The corgi trotted up to her, delighted, and immediately shoved its head into her hands like they were long-lost friends. She giggled as it licked at her fingers, ruffling the fur behind its ears.

(YN) tried to pretend he wasn't watching.

He really did.

But there was something about the way her expression softened when she smiled at the dog—something real, unguarded, that made it hard to look away.

"Hey," She said suddenly, glancing up at him with that same smile. "Come pet him."

He frowned. "No."

"Oh come on. You're not heartless. Look at his face."

The dog barked once, as if on cue.

(YN) glanced down at it. The corgi stared back, wide-eyed and expectant.

Hayeon tilted her head. "He likes you. He's literally wagging his tail at you."

"He wags at everything."

"Still counts." She held out her hand, beckoning like she was calling a toddler over. "Just one pat. I'll stop teasing you for the rest of the walk. Promise."

He narrowed his eyes. "That's obviously a lie."

"Okay, yeah, but I'll at least try."

For reasons he didn't fully understand, he sighed, and stepped forward.

The corgi immediately trotted to him, tongue flopping, and (YN) crouched down stiffly, reaching out a hesitant hand. The dog practically threw itself against his knee, and he gave it a short, awkward pat on the head.

Hayeon cooed like she was watching a hallmark drama. "Awwww. He's smiling."

"I think that's just his face."

"Still cute," She said, standing again. "You're both cute, actually."

(YN) straightened up fast. Too fast.

The light turned green. The crowd began to move.

But Hayeon stayed close.

Too close.

And as they stepped into the crosswalk side by side, she leaned in a little, voice low.

"You really didn't deny that one."

He didn't respond.

But his ears were red.

And she saw it.

And she smiled.

Again.

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.

Hayeon managed to keep her mouth shut for most of their walk. When she wasn't running her mouth or shooting a tease at him, she was humming a soft tune of some pop song she was obsessed with.

(YN) remained silent but that alone reminded him that she was there too. But when they arrived at a turn towards one of the neighborhoods, she once again nudged his side.

"This is where I'll turn. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, hm?" Hayeon hummed out, tilting her head to the side, just enough for her hair to fall.

He nodded, barely glancing at her. "Yeah."

It was the same as every other day. Same street, same goodbye, same little nudge from her as she turned away. But for some reason, today, it stuck.

Maybe it was the way the sun hit her just then, catching in her hair like strands of gold. Or maybe it was how quiet she had been on the walk, like she was trying not to ruin something fragile.

Or maybe it was the simple fact that every time she walked away, he felt it more than he let on.

She took a step back, eyes still on him. "Try not to miss me too much."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

But it came out weaker than he intended. And her smile, soft this time, not teasing, told him she noticed.

"See you, (YN)," she said.

Then she turned.

And he watched her go, the rhythm of her steps light, like she didn't have a care in the world. Like she hadn't just completely ruined his ability to think straight for the rest of the evening.

He stood there for a moment longer than necessary, staring down the path she'd taken and watching until she reached halfway through the street before muttering under his breath,

"This is stupid."

In contrast to his words, he didn't completely think that whatever he was doing was dumb. He was only making sure she made it home safely from that dog that used to run around rabidly, or something like that.

He turned away before she could look back. Shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and walked a little faster than usual, like he could outrun whatever had settled in his chest.

But the truth stayed with him.

He hated this.

Not her, this.

The way she could wedge her way into his routine like she belonged there. He hated how she said his name like she actually meant it, like he was something more than just her favorite target. The way she felt familiar, like the silence between them was starting to mean something.

He hated the way she looked at him sometimes.

And he hated it even more when he stared back.

And most of all, he hated the part of him that wanted her to keep doing it.

He reached the gate of his house, pausing with one hand on the latch. The sun had dipped a little lower now, and the warmth on his skin had faded into something cooler, more uncertain. A soft breeze moved through the street, and for a moment he just stood there, looking back once.

No one was there.

No Hayeon, no corgi, no sunlight catching gold in anyone's hair.

Just the quiet.

And he wasn't sure when it started, but the quiet didn't feel peaceful anymore. It felt like something was missing.

"Tch," He muttered, dragging the gate open and stepping through.

He told himself it didn't matter. That tomorrow, she'd tease him again. Push his buttons, steal his pens, hum that stupid song with her eyes watching him like she was waiting for a slip-up. And he'd give her nothing. That was the deal.

He kicked off his shoes without bothering to line them up. His bag thudded against the hallway wall, forgotten. The stairs creaked beneath his feet like they always did, but even the familiar sounds of home felt oddly distant, like he wasn't entirely here. Like part of him was still standing at that turn in the street, watching her go.

In his room, he flopped onto his bed face-first, the mattress muffling the small, frustrated groan that escaped him.

He hated this.

He hated that she got under his skin without even trying and even in the times that she did.

He hated that he noticed the rhythm of her footsteps or the way she fiddled with her pink bracelet when she was thinking too hard. He hated how she toned it down sometimes, just a bit, as if she knew when the teasing was too much. And he really hated how those small moments, the quiet ones, were the ones that stayed with him the longest.

He rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling fan turning lazily above him.

He should be thinking about homework. The quiz tomorrow. Anything else.

But instead, his mind wandered back to her voice. The way she said "See you, (YN)," like it was a promise.

And the way his name sounded different when it came from her mouth. Softer. Warmer. Like she was saying it just for him.

It was so stupid.

So ridiculous that someone like her, loud, chaotic, annoying, could occupy so much space in his head when he hadn't even let her in.

Except maybe he had. A little. Somewhere along the way, between all the teasing and the forced walk homes, he let the door crack open.

And now, the silence of his room only made it louder.

He wanted to tell her whatever this anomaly that was creeping through his system yet he all he knew to do was to stare at her blankly, act as distant as he could and push her away whenever he got the chance.

Whenever he had the chance to talk to her, the words would get stuck at the back of his throat, sometimes even tongue tied so he only continued on being quiet.

And now, the silence of his room only made it louder.

It was unbearable, really, how the absence of her voice, her teasing, her footsteps beside his, made everything else feel sharper. The ticking of his clock, the creak of his chair, even the distant sound of a car engine outside, it all grated on him, filling the space she usually smoothed out with her presence.

He lay on his bed with one arm draped over his eyes, his bag untouched on the floor. He hadn't even bothered to take his shoes off.

The words swirled in his head, chaotic and half-formed. Useless. What could he even say to her?

He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand down his face like it might shake the thoughts loose. It didn't. They clung harder. He reached over to his desk, pulled open a drawer, and took out the old spiral notebook he barely used anymore. Pages curled at the edges, corners smudged with graphite from old math scribbles.

He flipped to a clean page.

The pen felt heavier than it should have. His fingers fidgeted with the cap, spinning it once, twice, before finally clicking it down.

He stared at the paper.

Blank. Like his head had just emptied itself out in protest.

Then, slowly, he started to write.

Not in neat lines. Not carefully thought-out sentences.

Just blurted thoughts.

Each line written in words that he would have never told her face-to-face. He lost track of how much he had written until he reached the bottom of the page.

He turned his arm to the side, letting the pen slip through his fingers. His eyes read each and every line, gliding them over a sea of words that made up his whole idea of Jeong Hayeon.

Some sentences were frustrated. Others sounded too much like yearning. But most were confused.

But together, they were honest.

He reread it all once. Then again. Let the words settle in his chest like a weight he hadn't realized he'd been carrying.

This wasn't a plan. It wasn't some grand confession. It was more like a release, a dam that had been breaking for weeks.

He tore the page out gently, careful not to let it rip in two. Then he stared at it, held in his hands like something fragile. Ridiculous, really, how paper could feel like it carried too much.

Still, he folded it into thirds.

The idea came slowly, not as a sudden burst of inspiration but like a whisper in the back of his mind that refused to be ignored.

Leave it in her locker.

No name. No signature. Just words.

Let her read it without looking at him. Without knowing it came from him.

It sounded stupid. He wasn't the type to do things like this—anonymous letters and hidden feelings. But the thought of saying any of it out loud made his stomach twist.

So, this. . .this was easier.

Cowardly. But easier.

He set the letter on his desk and sat back, staring at it. The clock ticked on behind him, steady and indifferent.

Later that night, long after the world had quieted and the houses around him had gone dark, he tucked the folded page into his hoodie pocket. The streets were empty when he stepped out. Cool, still, and blanketed in that strange hush that only came after midnight.

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Every step toward the school felt heavier than the last. Like the weight of what he was doing pressed down with each step. He weaved through the crowds of students headed into the school with his head low, trying to hide himself just in case she was somewhere in the crowd. He walked through the halls, up the stairs to their floor and walked towards the door of their room.

Through the slightly ajar window, he faintly heard the shuffle and screeching of chairs inside of the room. There were already people inside but he knew not to worry since Hayeon usually arrived just before their first period.

His hand reached for the door handle and then slowly slid the door to the side, the rough sound ringing into the classroom.

There and then, he was suddenly stopped when a smaller figure blocked his way in. He glanced up slightly and met the wide, curious eyes of the one person he didn't want to bump into this particular morning.

Jeong Hayeon.

She stood there with a hand on her hip and a brow raised, her head tilted just enough to let her hair fall across one side of her face. It was a familiar pose—teasing, casual—but there was something different about her expression today. Something quieter in the way she looked at him.

"Morning," she said simply.

No smirk. No playful shove. Just that.

He cleared his throat. "...Hey."

For a second, neither of them moved. He could feel the folded letter in his pocket burning like a brand against his leg. His fingers twitched at his side.

She didn't step aside immediately, just studied him with that look of hers—the one that always made him feel like she saw more than he wanted her to.

"You're early," she said at last.

"You too." he replied without thinking.

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. There it was—that flicker of the Hayeon he was used to.

"You wanna head inside?" Hayeon asked, tilting her head to the side.

(YN) took in a breath and nodded his head.

To his surprise, she shook her head. "Too bad, I won't let you." The grin on her lips grew as she grabbed the sleeve of his arm and pulled him out into the hall.

He stumbled a bit, caught off guard by the sudden tug. The door slid shut behind them with a dull clack, leaving behind the muffled hum of the classroom. The hallway was quieter, emptier, the kind of stillness that made every heartbeat feel louder than it should've as their steps puttered through.

"Hayeon–Where are you pulling me to?" He asked when his eyes drifted from her figure to her hand holding his wrist over his sleeve.

The girl stopped her steps as they stopped by the windows that looked over the other side of the school, "Here!"

He fixed his glasses and looked through the windows where he saw that there were people outside who were busy fixing up stalls.

Hayeon let go of his sleeve but didn't step away, turning to lean against the window ledge, arms folded loosely in front of her. Her eyes were on the scene outside, where some students were struggling to tape a banner across a booth while others hauled boxes of decorations. The spring festival was still a few weeks away, but the prep had clearly started.

She didn't say anything right away, and neither did he.

The silence between them was comfortable in theory, but not today. Not with that letter still weighing down his pocket. Not with her standing so close, the sunlight catching strands of her hair just like it had the other afternoon—the one that wouldn't leave his head.

"Didn't know they started this early," he murmured, mostly just to say something.

Hayeon shrugged. "They're excited, I guess. Or desperate to impress."

He hummed in response.

"You remember what we're doing?"

He blinked at her question, caught off guard. "For the festival?"

She nodded, still facing the window. "Yeah. Class 3-B's booth."

He searched his memory, digging past everything that had been occupying his head lately—her, the letter, the dread of running into her like this. "Some kind of café, right?"

"Mm. A themed one." She finally turned to look at him again, her arms still folded but her gaze softer now, thoughtful. "You volunteered for decor duty. Kinda glad that you remembered." She chuckled.

"Of course, it was your idea."

Hayeon caught a breath suddenly before she melted into a warm smile.

"Was it?" she asked, tilting her head like she didn't quite believe him.

He nodded, eyes on the floor. "You were excited about it. So I figured... might as well help."

For a second, the silence between them stretched again—less awkward now, but still thick with everything unspoken. Then she stepped a little closer.

"That's kinda sweet," she said, voice quiet but teasing again. "Coming from you, anyway."

"Don't make it a big deal." He replied blankly.

"Oh I will," Hayeon hummed. "Didn't expect the king of the north pole to remember things like that. Maybe you do care about people, just a little."

"Since when was that my nickname?" (YN) leaned against the window slightly before turning his head towards her.

A giggle escaped her lips, "Since right now." She turned away from the window with a tap on his shoulder. "C'mon, let's head back to class. We could check on the stalls again when it's our turn to set up."

His eyes followed her as she retreated back into the hall, making her way back.

He hesitated for a moment, still by the window, watching the sunlight flicker through the glass. Her laughter still echoed faintly in his ears, warm and light and so very her. It left something behind in the air—like the ghost of a song you couldn't shake off.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, fingers brushing the edge of the letter again.

But he didn't pull it out.

Instead, he pushed off the window and followed her.

By the time he caught up, she was already a few steps from the classroom door, hands clasped behind her back as she walked with a casual sway. When she noticed him beside her again, she cast him a sidelong glance.

"You were being weird this morning," she said, not unkindly. Just observant. "Like, more than usual."

He blinked, surprised. "Was I?"

"You kept looking like you were gonna say something. Then you didn't." She paused. "You still look like that, actually."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe I just didn't sleep well."

"Liar," she said with a smile, then let it go without pressing further. She stepped up to the door again but didn't open it immediately. Her hand hovered over the handle. "Hey."

He looked at her.

"Thanks. For remembering." Her voice was quieter this time, sincere in a way she rarely let it be. "I know I tease a lot, but...I like it when people remember things about me, even my wacky ideas."

There was something about the way she said it—like she wasn't just talking about the festival anymore.

He didn't know what to say to that. So he just nodded, slowly, eyes searching hers. "Okay."

For a moment, it looked like she might say something else. But then the classroom door slid open from the inside, and a classmate peeked out, eyebrows raised.

"Oh—there you are," they said. "Teacher's asking about the theme designs. You coming in or what?"

Hayeon glanced at (YN), then stepped through the door, throwing him one last glance over her shoulder.

He followed her in, the letter still tucked away in his pocket.

It could wait.

Inside the classroom, the usual morning buzz had fully settled in—bags thudding onto desks, chairs scraping, a few students half-asleep while others flipped through notebooks or hovered around group projects already in motion.

Hayeon walked ahead of him, weaving through desks with an ease that (YN) couldn't quite replicate. She had this way of fitting into spaces, conversations, and moments like she belonged there. Like she was never out of place.

He followed her toward the back, where Kim Chaewon, their class rep, was waving a sketchpad in the air with exaggerated urgency.

"Jeong Hayeon! Finally," the girl said, turning to (YN) with a raised brow. "And you dragged him along too?"

"Dragged?" Hayeon echoed, feigning innocence as she took her seat. "I walked with him. Don't be dramatic."

"Same thing," the rep muttered, flipping to a rough sketch of their booth layout. "Anyway, we're deciding on decor themes today. You're the ones on decor duty, so you better have ideas."

Hayeon leaned over the desk, studying the sketch, her chin resting in one palm. She looked thoughtful for a second before glancing up at (YN). "You still like the fairy lights and the paper lantern idea?"

He nodded slowly, taking the empty seat beside her. "Yeah. Warm colors. Maybe string them across the top. A simple design should be better."

She looked pleased. "Told you he'd have opinions," She said to the rep, who looked half-impressed, half-relieved.

As they started tossing around more ideas, centerpieces, color schemes, possible flower garlands, (YN) found himself falling into it more naturally than expected. Maybe it was because she was beside him, filling the air between them with small comments, subtle nods, and the occasional joke only he seemed to catch.

At one point, she nudged him lightly with her knee beneath the desk. He turned to find her watching him.

"You're not bad at this," she said.

"Decorating?"

"Talking," she smirked. "Participating. Letting people see you're not secretly plotting world domination or something."

"It's not that hard if they keep asking me what kind of menu we could have." He deadpanned.

"Maybe I should ask you that more often then." She crinkled into a smile.

He gave her a sidelong glance. "Menus?"

"No. Questions." She turned her gaze back to the sketchpad. "You talk more when you're thinking."

"I always think."

"Exactly. You just don't always say things."

There it was again. T

That strange push and pull she always seemed to toe the edge of. Like she wasn't just teasing him for fun anymore. Like she was waiting for him to crack and say something, anything, that would prove her right about him. He didn't know what she thought she knew, only that she watched him like she'd already read the answer in his face before he said it.

Kim Chaewon snapped her fingers at them. "Hey. Lovebirds. Focus."

(YN)'s head snapped up. "We're not—"

"Relax," Chaewon said, already moving on to ask another group about color palettes. "You two just drift off in your own little bubble sometimes."

Hayeon didn't look fazed. In fact, she smiled wider. "She's not wrong."

"About what?" (YN)'s shoulders relaxed back down to his sides.

"Like we're inside some sort of this bubble, separate from the rest. Don't you think so?"

He stared at her for a beat too long.

A bubble. That was how she put it. Like the two of them were sealed off from the rest, insulated by some invisible line that no one else could cross. And maybe that's what it felt like sometimes. When she talked to him like this. Looked at him like that. Like the noise of the classroom fell away and none of the other voices mattered.

But he didn't say that.

He looked back down at the sketchpad instead, tracing a line between the paper lanterns Chaewon had penciled in and the space above the mock stall's archway.

"Maybe," He murmured.

He didn't dare look at her face, because she always had this habit of studying his reactions a second longer than she should. And it made him feel exposed in a way he wasn't used to. Like she could see through the silence he wore like armor. Like she was quietly knocking on the wall he had built around himself—not to break it down, but to be let in.

"You're doing it again," she said after a moment.

He glanced at her, confused. "Doing what?"

"Thinking without saying anything."

His lips twitched. "You don't need a commentary on my every thought."

"Maybe not. But I like when you talk." She propped her chin on her hand and tilted her head toward him. "It makes me feel like I'm winning."

"Winning what?"

She grinned, that same unreadable smirk that made people fall for her without realizing it. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He rolled his eyes, but it was half-hearted at best. The worst part was that she was winning, just not in the way she thought. Or maybe exactly in the way she thought.

Because the longer he sat next to her, the more the line between pretending not to care and actually not caring blurred. She made it harder to sit behind his silence. Harder to ignore the weight of the moments they shared when no one else was really watching.

And when she nudged him again, lightly, deliberately, he didn't pull away this time.

Chaewon was off discussing tinsel color with another table, and the rest of the class had broken into side conversations and laughter. But they were still here, caught in that quiet space between sketchpad and subtext.

He glanced at her, and for once, didn't look away.

"You're not winning," He said, voice lower now.

She blinked. "No?"

"No." He let the pause stretch, just a little. "I just haven't started playing along yet."

That made her smile falter, just for a second. Like she hadn't expected that from him. And maybe that was the only win he needed for now

.

.

.

When lunchtime rolled around, most of the students vacated their classrooms and headed to the cafeteria or wandered off in groups to loiter around the school until the break ended.

(YN) waited until the room had mostly cleared out. Then, as casually as he could manage, he slid a folded piece of paper out of his blazer pocket—creased twice, written neatly the night before, and rewritten twice after that.

He moved through the hallway, passing chatting students and noisy groups without drawing attention. Her locker wasn't hard to find. He'd memorized the number without meaning to.

With one last glance around, he opened it just enough and slipped the letter through the gap, letting it fall between her books and pencil case.

No name. No signature. Just a few words written in his careful handwriting.

The door clicked shut.

He didn't stay long enough to second-guess it.

Instead, he slipped down the stairwell at the end of the hall—second floor, east wing. Quiet, like always. His usual escape.

There, he sat down on the familiar landing beneath the narrow window and pulled out his lunch from his bag— it was simple, homemade, quiet like him—and started eating. For a moment, it was peaceful, enough to forget what he had just done. Just the sound of passing footsteps below and the occasional creak of the building settling.

Then came the unmistakable shuffle of shoes against tile.

He didn't have to look to know who it was.

"Seriously?" Hayeon's voice rang lightly behind him. "You eat here?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "Are you stalking me now?"

"Relax. You're not that interesting," She teased, stepping up beside him, lunch tray in hand. "Classroom was stuffy. Cafeteria's loud. So. . .this wins."

Without waiting for permission, she sat beside him.

He didn't move away. Just returned to chewing slowly.

"You always disappear like this?" She asked after a few moments, poking her food with her chopsticks more out of boredom than hunger.

"It's not disappearing if no one notices," he said.

She snorted. "Wow. That's dramatic."

"I'm serious."

"I know," She said, a small smile playing at her lips. "That's the dramatic part."

They ate in a companionable quiet for a while. The sun filtered in through the windows, warming the edge of the floor, and the soft sounds of lunchtime chatter drifted from the other side of the school.

"Do you just like being alone?" She asked eventually, glancing sideways at him.

He shrugged. "I don't mind it."

"But you came here today," she pointed out, tapping her chopsticks against her lunchbox. "With me."

"You dragged me."

"Semantics."

He glanced over at her, and this time there was a faint curve to his lips. Barely there, but she caught it.

"You're not as annoying when you're not trying to be," He said.

"That was almost a compliment," She said, leaning back against the wall with mock surprise. "I'm honored."

"Don't get used to it."

"Oh, I will. I'm writing it down."

"You don't even have a pen."

"I'll remember it forever."

He rolled his eyes, but didn't argue. And for a few quiet moments more, they just ate together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The silence stretched comfortably between them, the kind that didn't feel empty or awkward. Instead, it was the kind that spoke without words, of shared spaces, unspoken understanding, and the slow unraveling of guarded hearts.

Hayeon glanced over at him, eyes softening. "You know," She said quietly, "for someone who acts like they don't care, you sure pay a lot of attention."

"I can't help but notice the things around me."

Hayeon tilted her head, a playful challenge in her eyes. "Like what? You have to be specific."

He hesitated, his fingers tapping lightly against his lunchbox as he searched for the right words. "The way you bite your lip when you're thinking hard about something."

She glanced down at her lips, surprised, then grinned. "That obvious?"

He shrugged, glancing away. "Maybe."

She laughed softly, the sound warm and easy in the quiet stairwell. "Okay, again. What else?"

"The way you talk with your hands. When you get excited, you don't even realize it."

Hayeon's eyes sparkled. "I do?"

"You do."

She looked down at her hands, then back up at him, a little shy now. "You watch me a lot, don't you?"

He said nothing, only nodded slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"Y'know, I notice a lot of things about you too."

His head perched up slightly, looking at her from the side of his vision.

"Like what?"

Hayeon shrugged, looking ahead at nothing in particular. "You always pull at your sleeves when you're thinking. You don't look people in the eye when you lie. And. . .you hum under your breath when you're trying to calm down."

He blinked slowly. "I don't do that."

"You do," She said, lips twitching into a smile. "Usually when teachers cold-call you and you pretend you're not annoyed."

A second passed.

He looked down at his hands. The cuffs of his uniform sleeves were already stretched a little loose from years of fidgeting. Without thinking, he tugged at them now.

Caught.

She didn't say anything else, didn't press. Just smiled to herself and kept picking at the corner of her bento box like she hadn't just peeled back another quiet layer of him.

"How long have you been. . .noticing things?" he asked eventually, voice quieter than before.

"A while," She replied.

He didn't answer right away, and neither did she. The silence returned, warm and full, like the hush before a truth too heavy to speak aloud.

Finally, he said, "I didn't think you paid that much attention."

"I think you do that on purpose," She murmured. "Make it easy for people to miss you."

"And you don't?"

She looked at him then, really looked, eyes steady, expression unreadable.

"No," she said.

"I always look for you."

There it was, the smile that made his heart skip a beat or two.

Outside, he looked unfazed but behind his ice cold walls sat a boy who had no idea what to say even more so what to say. Hayeon made it hard for him to say anything sometimes, not that he wanted to say anything yet when she pulled him in, she would somehow push him away before he could utter a word.

The stairwell settled again, hushed and bright in the midday light. Dust floated lazily through the slant of sun from the narrow window.His lunch was nearly finished, but neither moved to stand.

She was still watching him, though not obviously. Just sideways glances when she thought he wasn't looking.

"I always look for you."

The words echoed louder in his mind than she had spoken them.

(YN) didn't reply right away. He couldn't. His throat felt tight in that strange way it did whenever someone looked at him too closely, when someone noticed too much. And Hayeon had a way of doing that, like she saw past the carefully folded silences he carried.

He picked at the edge of his lunchbox. "You shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm—" He stopped himself.

She waited. Quietly. Patiently.

He exhaled. "I'm not much to look for."

Her gaze didn't waver. "That's a stupid thing to say."

He let out a faint laugh under his breath. "Maybe."

She leaned her shoulder lightly against his. Not forcefully—just enough to let him know she was there. Solid. Not going anywhere.

"I don't look for people expecting something big," she said softly. "Sometimes I just look because I want to."

He stayed still, processing that. Then, "What do you see when you look?"

Hayeon turned her head, resting it slightly against the wall behind them. "Hmm," she hummed. "Sometimes. . .I see a guy who wants to disappear but still hopes someone will notice. I see someone who listens more than he talks. Someone who's a little scared of being seen but still wants to be known, not by everyone but just someone who sees him for his entirety."

He didn't look at her. Just stared at the far wall.

"I'm not good at this," He muttered. "Any of this."

"Me neither."

Another silence passed, but it wasn't awkward. Just thoughtful.

Then, she shifted beside him, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. "I think that's why I like sitting with you."

He blinked. "What?"

"You're like this big battery cuz I think you're the only person I don't feel tired around." She giggled, then stood up, as quick as her words and as if they had no impact.

She giggled, then stood up, quick as her words and as if they hadn't left anything behind.

But they did.

They lingered in the air between them, soft and electric.

(YN) watched her straighten her skirt and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She didn't look at him right away, just glanced down at the now-empty tray in her hands like the moment hadn't cracked something open. Like she hadn't just said something he'd think about all night.

A battery.

He didn't know what to do with that.

Didn't know how someone like him, who barely had enough to keep himself going, could ever be that for someone like her.

"Are you leaving?" He asked, voice low.

She shrugged, still not quite looking at him. "Lunch is almost over."

He nodded slowly, fingers tightening slightly around the edge of his lunchbox. "Right."

But she didn't walk away just yet. Not completely. She stood by the edge of the stairwell, where the sunlight caught her outline, casting a soft glow against the tiled walls.

Then, over her shoulder, casually, but not really, she said, "You coming, or are you gonna keep hiding here like some tragic poetry boy?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Tragic poetry boy?"

She grinned, finally meeting his eyes. "You know. The type who writes metaphors in the margins of his math notes and pretends not to feel anything."

"I don't write poetry," He muttered.

"But you do pretend not to feel anything."

He didn't deny it.

She lingered just a moment longer.

And when he finally stood, slow, hesitant, unsure why he was following when he usually preferred to be left behind, she waited.

They walked side by side, not touching, not speaking.

But every step felt like something delicate was unfolding between them. Something that was barely beginning. Like a paper crane held together by hope.

At the stairwell exit, she paused again.

"Oh," She said, as if remembering something. "And for the record?"

He looked at her.

"You don't have to be good at this," She said. "I'm not asking you to be."

She didn't wait for him to respond this time. Just offered the softest smile and turned the corner, vanishing into the crowd of returning students like she hadn't just pulled him closer with every word.

He stayed where he was for a moment longer, heart quiet but loud in all the ways that mattered.

And later, when he sat in class, notebook open and mind elsewhere, he didn't realize until halfway through the lesson that he'd started humming under his breath.

Just barely.

Just enough to calm himself down.

.

.

.

RING!!!

As the bell rang throughout the school, doors that lined up the halls opened one by one, letting students spill out—some dragging their feet, others laughing too loudly as they clustered into groups.

The hallway buzzed with the usual chaos. Backpacks slung over shoulders, footsteps echoing, overlapping conversations about cram school, cafeteria snacks, and who said what during lunch. Ordinary things. Easy to miss in the noise.

But he wasn't listening.

(YN) stood at his locker, moving slowly, deliberately, like he was waiting for the crowd to pass. He'd always been good at timing things just right, slipping in between moments. Not too early. Not too late. Just quiet enough to be invisible.

Except now, there was a pulse of something in his chest. A restless kind of waiting.

He didn't look down the hall, but he was listening for her laugh. He always could pick it out—lighter than most, like she never laughed all the way, like she was always holding something back.

And then, there she was.

Jeong Hayeon turned the corner with two classmates trailing behind her, still chattering about something that made one of them gasp. She wasn't laughing. Just nodding, distracted.

Until she reached her locker.

She opened it casually, like it was any other day. But he saw the moment her hand paused just inside. The shift in her expression. Brief, almost nothing—but he caught it.

She'd found it.

The letter.

That stupid little folded paper he painted every single thought of her into.

She held it between her fingers, turning it over like it might bite. The handwriting was unmistakable. No name. No signature. But it wasn't hard to guess.

He didn't watch her read it.

He couldn't.

Instead, he dropped his gaze and pretended to be struggling with the zipper on his bag. Focused on the peeling corner of a textbook. Anything to keep him from looking at her.

But his ears burned.

When he finally dared to glance up again, her eyes were already on him.

There was no smile. No teasing remark. Just a look—steady and unreadable, like she was figuring something out and hadn't yet decided what to say.

His breath caught in his throat.

Then, her friend called her name, and the moment slipped past like it had never been there at all. Hayeon tucked the note into the pocket of her skirt without a word and closed her locker with a quiet click.

Then she walked away and didn't look back.

But her fingers lingered at her side, brushing the paper through the fabric like it meant something.

Like maybe she wasn't planning to throw it away.

(YN) stood there motionless. A hand was balled into a fist as all of his senses asked why he did all of this. From his not so elaborate plan of writing the letter to him slipping it into her locker like some idiot in love and expecting an answer when she saw it.

He told himself it was fine.

She didn't throw it away.

That had to count for something, right?

But the absence of a reaction, the way she'd just walked away, unreadable, gnawed at him like a loose thread. He shouldn't have expected anything. Not a smile. Not a reply. Definitely not some K-drama moment where she ran back into the hallway and threw herself into his arms.

Still, he stayed frozen by his locker long after the crowd had thinned out. Long after the last classroom door had shut and the shrieks of laughter from the courtyard faded into silence.

Maybe it was too much. Maybe he ruined everything.

He pressed his forehead lightly against the cool metal of his locker door and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Hey."

His head snapped up, popping the bubble of thoughts he was in.

She was standing there.

Hayeon.

Backlit by the sun coming through the stairwell window. Bag slung over her shoulder. Bangs slightly mussed from running her hand through them. Still holding that unreadable expression—but there was a flicker of something in her eyes.

Uncertainty. Or maybe. . .hope.

"I thought you went home," He said quietly.

"I still have club stuff to go to." She replied, hair falling off her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side. "But it won't take long."

He swallowed. Nodded once. The hallway behind her had gone mostly quiet now, just the faint echo of a teacher's voice through a cracked classroom door and the hum of an electric fan down the corridor.

She stepped closer, not too close, but enough that her presence pulled at him. Familiar and unfamiliar at once

"I'll be at the library." He bit his lip gently and looked away before he spun on his heel.

Hayeon almost raised her hand from her side, wanting to stop him but she held herself back.

She watched his figure walk down the hall before taking a turn.

When Hayeon finally stepped into the clubroom, she was late.

Not that it mattered, most of the others had already scattered, and the only sounds left were the soft clacks of a keyboard and the occasional murmur of someone arranging art supplies.

She crossed the room robotically, placed her bag on the table, and stared at the half-finished project in front of her: a poster she'd promised to design. Bright colors, bubbly text. None of it matched the storm in her chest.

She touched her pocket again.

The letter was still there. Warm from her hand, soft at the edges. She hadn't read it properly the first time. She'd been too aware of the hallway. Of eyes. Of him.

Now she unfolded it slowly, like it might vanish if she rushed.

Words were written top to bottom, neatly written with a black pen that also crossed out other things scrambled about.

I don't know when it started. You've always been loud. You've always been there.And then suddenly, it started mattering that you were there.

You annoy me.

You make things complicated. You laugh at me like I'm supposed to hate it, but I don't. Not always. Sometimes I wait for it. Sometimes I hear it when you're not even around. That stupid little half-laugh like you're holding something back, like the world doesn't deserve all of it.

Maybe it's dumb to say this.

Maybe you'll read this and throw it away and I'll pretend I never wrote it. But I had to say something. Because I don't know how to be around you anymore without wanting more.

I think about you too much.

I tried not to. I told myself it was just a phase. Not attention. Not teasing. Not another sarcastic comment or smug smile.

Just. . . you.

The quiet version of you. The one who tugs at her sleeves when she's nervous. The one who gets oddly serious when no one's looking. The one who listens more than she lets on.

I think I started noticing those versions of you too late.

And now I can't stop.

This is probably going to ruin everything. Forget it.

I don't need an answer. You don't have to say anything. But if this means something to you—even a little—then don't throw it away.

That's all.

P.S.

If you're mad, I'll accept one (1) punch to the arm. If you're not...Then maybe... look at me. Just once. That'll be enough

Hayeon read every word.

Twice.

And by the third time her eyes ran down the words written on the paper, her fingers trembled.

She didn't realize she was holding her breath until a classmate asked her something. Hayeon blinked, nodded vaguely, then stood. "I'm heading out early."

No one stopped her.

The walk to the library was quiet. Every step forward felt like the click of a gear turning inside her. The kind that only moves when something important is about to happen.

She found him near the back, seated in a corner by the window where the light dipped golden across his shoulders. His bag was beside him. His phone untouched. A book open, but unread with his head down on the pages along with his arms that supported them.

She slid back a chair softly, careful not to wake him.

And when she sat down beside him, her eyes wouldn't leave his sleeping expression. It was peaceful, more peaceful than when he kept his silence.

Without a second thought, she laid her head down on the table. Her arm was a pillow of warmth that spread throughout her entirety.

His breathing was slow, even. The kind that only came when he wasn't overthinking things for once.

She watched his lashes flicker slightly, like maybe even in sleep he was still half-aware of the world. Or maybe. . .of her.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the folded letter, now tucked safely inside the book she'd brought with her. She hadn't read it again, but she didn't need to. The words had etched themselves into her all the same. Especially the ones he tried to erase.

I think about you too much. I tried not to.

She smiled, barely. Just enough that it tugged at the corner of her mouth. Maybe she should tell him he was an idiot for writing it. Maybe she should say it was unfair, dropping all of that into her hands without warning.

But instead, she reached an arm forward, slowly reaching out to the stray strands of hair that fell before his eyes. Her fingers, as gentle as ever, swayed them to the side.

She didn't pull her hand back right away.

Her fingers hovered for a second longer than necessary, suspended in the stillness between them. He didn't stir, but something in her chest did—a flutter, low and unfamiliar, like the start of a confession she hadn't voiced yet.

The light had shifted slightly, softening into amber across the tabletop. Dust floated in the air, dancing like slow-moving thoughts.

Maybe she didn't have the right words either.

But maybe she had enough in her to form something coherent and clear.

.

.

.

(YN) slowly stirred from his unexpected nap, eyes fluttering open to the silent library. They shifted to the window where the golden rays of the sun met them in a bright glare. He squinted his eyes, raising his arm to cover the light as he felt consciousness rush back into them.

As he turned back to the table, he found himself how he was earlier, alone. The thought of her still being in her club passed by but halted when he found a piece of paper, one ripped out of a notebook laid out in front of him.

It read.

'Sorry I didn't wake you, I had to rush home. I'll see you tomorrow?'

(YN) blinked at the note. The handwriting was unmistakably hers—quick, a little messy, like it had been written in a rush, but with enough care to make sure he'd understand.

His thumb brushed over the corner of the paper.

She'd been here.

Close enough to leave a trace. Close enough to sit beside him, to watch him sleep.

And now, gone.

He looked toward the chair across from him, the one she must've sat in. It was still slightly pulled out, just enough to make it feel like her presence hadn't fully left. A warmth lingered—not literal, maybe, but it filled the space anyway.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

The question hung in the air like a promise.

Or maybe hope.

His lips parted slightly, as if to answer, but no sound came out. He just stared at the words, the tiniest smile tugging at the edge of his mouth, barely there, like he was scared of jinxing it.

He folded the note with careful hands and tucked it into the book he'd left open earlier

.

.

.

The walk home was emptier than usual.

He should have been glad, this was the kind of quiet he usually craved, the kind that didn't ask anything of him. No small talk, no teasing, no laughter that made his chest ache in ways he didn't understand.

But today, the silence pressed in too tightly. It wasn't the kind that let him breathe. It was the kind that echoed.

Every step felt too loud against the pavement. Every car that passed by, every rustle of leaves—none of it filled the space she'd left behind.

He caught himself glancing to the side more than once, like some part of him still expected her to be there. Walking just half a step ahead. Talking about nothing. Smiling without meaning to.

But the sidewalk stayed empty.

He walked past their gate and headed straight inside where the empty shell of a home greeted him. His parents weren't home, not yet at least.

The walk up the stairs felt heavier than usual.

He threw his bag by the side of his bed before he sat down on his bed.

As he did, he felt something crinkle in the pocket of his uniform.

He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the familiar fold of paper. When he pulled it out, he found another note hidden in his pocket. With no clue where it came from, he relied on this false sense of hope that maybe she left another note behind.

His breath caught.

The paper was different from the first, this one was a smaller rip, torn hastily from the corner of a notebook. The edges were uneven, like whoever wrote it hadn't cared to make it neat, only quick.

His fingers trembled slightly as he unfolded it.

The handwriting was hers. Slightly slanted, a little hurried, like she hadn't wanted to be caught writing it.

It read.

You looked tired today. I was going to say something. I didn't. I didn't know how.

There was a pause in the writing, like she'd hesitated before continuing. Then, in smaller letters,

Maybe tomorrow?

That was it.

No name. No explanation. Just that simple string of words, left like a thread for him to follow.

He sat there for a long time, just staring at the note in his hands. The room stayed quiet, but it didn't feel so hollow anymore.

She'd noticed.

Maybe she always did. Just like he did.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the note still between his fingers. The ache in his chest wasn't gone, but it shifted. Softer now. Not hope exactly, but something close.

Something that made him want to wait for tomorrow.

.

.

.

And when morning came, he was still unsure. Unsure what might happen when he walked into their classroom and found her. Would she still be the same?

Would she meet his eyes like nothing had changed? Would she tease him like always, sharp-tongued and grinning, or would there be something softer now? A pause between her words. A hesitation in her smile.

He couldn't predict it. Couldn't predict her.

The weight of the note sat in his pocket like a secret only the two of them knew. Like proof that whatever was happening between them, quiet and unspoken, wasn't just in his head.

Still, doubt clawed at him as he stepped into the school gates. The morning buzzed the same way it always did: chattering students, slamming lockers, teachers yelling down the hallway about tardiness. The usual noise.

But it all blurred when he reached their classroom door.

She wasn't at her desk yet.

His eyes darted around the room before he quietly slipped into his seat. He tried not to fidget. Tried not to look at the door too obviously. But each second stretched.

Then— A glimpse of movement. Her shadow.

Jeong Hayeon stepped into the room, brushing wind-tousled hair from her face. Her gaze swept over the desks like it always did. She looked calm.

But when her eyes found his, she stopped.

Not a big moment. No gasp. No dramatic shift. Just a half-second pause. And then—

She smiled. Small. Genuine. The kind she only gave when no one else was watching.

But she walked past his desk. Not another exchange of a look—more so a glance. No words exchanged. No interaction to be made.

And yet, it wasn't cold.

Not distance. Not avoidance. Just... something in-between.

As she slid into her seat just a seat over his, the usual buzz of the class returned to his ears like the volume had been turned up again. Chairs scraped against the floor. Someone laughed too loudly. A textbook hit the desk with a thud. And still, he couldn't stop tracking her in the corner of his vision.

She acted like nothing had changed.

But she hadn't thrown away the note.

She'd written back.

She'd found him in the library and stayed.

Those were facts. Undeniable.

So why did it feel like they were back at square one? Or maybe not square one—maybe something more delicate that hung in the silence.

He looked down at his desk, fingers curling around the strap of his bag.

He could say something. Now. Before class started. A simple greeting.

Or even just her name.

But the words clung stubbornly to his throat, too heavy to move past.

He sighed, remembering her note. Maybe tomorrow?

It wasn't a promise.

Not a meeting.

Not a confession.

Just a question. A small thread of hope that hadn't been cut.

It wasn't even assured—no set time, no setting—but it was that one word that offered him something he didn't realize he needed.

Possibility.

And so he held onto it. Desperately. Quietly. Through every dull lesson, every scribbled note on the board, every lunch break he didn't quite taste.

She didn't speak to him that day.

He didn't speak to her either.

But she laughed at something someone said, and it wasn't as loud as usual. She looked his way once, and though her gaze flitted away quickly, he swore he caught that same softness again.

And when the final bell rang, he walked through the halls. Still clinging onto that ounce of hope he used to slow down his steps.

Maybe she'd be just a few paces behind.

Maybe she'd catch up and say something—anything.

Maybe she wouldn't.

But he didn't rush.

Didn't take the usual turns too quickly.

He gave the afternoon the chance to become something more.

He stopped by his locker, thinking of anything to do while he was still there. He turned the handle carefully and swung it open.

THUD!

His eyes turned to the floor as the folds of a paper struck it as it fell out of his locker. He swiveled his head to the right, then to the left to check if someone had seen the paper fall out.

His heart thudded louder than the noise of the paper hitting the floor. No one seemed to notice. Just a few students rushing past, heads down, lost in their own worlds.

He bent down slowly, careful not to draw attention. His fingers brushed the edges of the paper—another note, folded just like the last. But this one felt different, like it had more to say than the last.

He unfolded it with a shaky breath.

And through the messy handwriting, it read.

To the boy who sees too much,

I didn't think you'd ever say anything.

Not because you didn't feel something, but because you're careful. Careful with your words, careful with your silences. Careful the way people are when they've been hurt by hoping too loudly.

So when I found your letter yesterday, I just stood there. Not reading. Just holding it. Like if I opened it, something would shift. And it did.

I don't know how long you've been looking at me like that. I don't know when I started looking back. Maybe it was the first time you lent me your umbrella without saying a word. Or when you stayed behind after class to clean up even though no one asked you to. Or maybe it was when I realized you weren't ignoring me, you were just afraid I'd look too closely.

I did look closely.

And I saw you.

You hide behind silence like I hide behind jokes. We're both cowards, really. I've known that for a while. But your letter made me braver. A little.

So here's me being brave:

I liked your words. All of them. Even the ones you almost crossed out. I think they were the truest.

And yes, sometimes I laugh like I'm holding back. Sometimes I feel like I'm made of a hundred different versions of myself, and I don't know which one people actually want to see. But when I'm with you, it's quieter in my head. Less trying. Less pretending. Like maybe I don't have to be anything except the version that just sits beside you and breathes.

I don't know what happens next. I'm still figuring that part out.

But I kept your letter. I won't throw it away.

Because I think I've been writing my own version for a while now, just without the paper.

Come find me after club.

We'll walk home together, if you want.

He caught his breath and snapped his head down the hall. It was empty, but he knew.

The room at the very end, tucked behind the second-floor stairwell, the one with the scuffed door and faint traces of melody always slipping through its frame, that was where she'd be.

The music club.

He stood frozen for a second, note still in hand, the words echoing louder than the school bell that had rung ten minutes ago. It was suddenly too much and not enough. His pulse raced, legs tense like they hadn't decided whether to move or stay.

But she'd written back. Not with just a few words, but with all the things he thought she'd never say. Not to him.

He'd been careful. Always careful.

And she'd seen it anyway.

His grip tightened around the letter. His fingers trembled, not from fear exactly, but from the sheer weight of being seen. Really seen. In the same way he'd seen her, past the teasing and laughter and tossed hair and casual shrugs.

That note... it had cracked something open.

He took a breath. Then another.

And then he ran.

Down the hallway, past the blurred faces of students still lingering, past the classrooms now dim with late afternoon light. The letter stayed in his hand, crumpled slightly, like something fragile but real.

He reached the music room and paused.

The door was closed, and faint piano chords slipped through the gap beneath. Nothing dramatic. Just someone playing, like they were passing time. Like they didn't know that the boy from the letter was standing just outside.

His hand hovered over the knob.

A million thoughts rushed in at once—what he'd say, what she'd do, whether this moment would hold everything they'd left unspoken or fall apart under the weight of it.

But none of that mattered now.

She'd asked him to come.

She'd said, "We'll walk home together, if you want."

And he did.

He always had.

So he opened the door.

He found her by the corner of the room.

Her back was turned against him and she was idly wiping the tiles of the keyboard before her.

She didn't turn around right away.

She didn't turn around.

Not right away.

She stood at the far corner of the music room, back turned, her silhouette lit by the waning sunlight that slipped through the blinds. Her fingers hovered above the piano, not playing, just touching, like the keys might disappear if she pressed too hard. The air was heavy with the fading remnants of the melody she'd just been playing, still vibrating softly in the quiet.

The door clicked shut behind him.

It echoed louder than he expected. Like a line had been drawn. Like the moment had finally, irreversibly arrived.

He didn't breathe at first.

Couldn't.

The letter was still clenched in his fist, slightly damp from his palm, the paper crumpled at the edges but the words, her words,  still etched clearly in his mind. Come find me after club. That's what she wrote. We'll walk home together, if you want.

And he did.

He always had.

But now, standing here, it felt like everything in him might collapse under the weight of it.

He took one tentative step forward.

Then another.

And still, she didn't move. Didn't speak. Her shoulders were tight, stiff in that way that only meant one thing: she was nervous. Hayeon, the girl who always laughed like nothing could touch her, who threw jokes like darts and flirted like it was second nature,  was standing perfectly still, like one wrong breath might break her.

He had never seen her like this.

And yet, it made sense. Because he had never shown up like this either.

He stopped a few steps behind her.

"I got your note," He said, his voice low, almost reverent.

The silence that followed stretched thin between them. Then her fingers stilled on the piano, curling slightly inward.

"I ran," He added. "As soon as I read it."

Still, she didn't turn.

He swallowed.

"I didn't want to wait until tomorrow."

That was when she moved. Slowly, her hand slipped off the keyboard and fell to her side. She turned, not suddenly, not like a dramatic reveal in a movie. Just gradually, like it was taking everything in her to face him.

And then she looked at him.

Not with the teasing glint he'd grown used to. Not with the practiced mask she wore in the classroom. But wide-eyed, uncertain, and completely unguarded.

Her lips parted slightly. "You actually came."

"I said I would," he said, quietly. "If you wanted me to."

Her gaze flickered, to his hand, still holding the note, then back to his face. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I wanted you to."

He let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"I didn't know if I was too late," He admitted. "Or if I'd imagined everything. That maybe I saw things that weren't there."

"You didn't," She said, too fast, too earnestly. "You didn't imagine it."

And suddenly her voice cracked, just a little, like the dam was breaking. She looked away, eyes glinting in the low light. "I didn't know how to say anything. I didn't know how to be serious about it. I thought if I kept it light, you wouldn't notice. That I wouldn't have to deal with it."

"I noticed," He said. "Every time."

She let out a breath,  somewhere between a laugh and something close to crying. "Of course you did. You always notice. That's the problem."

"It's not a problem," he said, stepping closer. "You said it yourself, I see too much. And you. . .you hide too well."

She blinked rapidly, her guard faltering, her voice thick with something that hurt to keep in. "I didn't want you to see the parts of me that weren't loud and confident. The parts that didn't know what to do when someone looked at me like you do."

His heart beat louder than the silence around them.

"Then let me keep looking," He said, gently.

A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. She laughed again, wiping it quickly with the sleeve of her school cardigan. "God, I hate that you make me feel like this."

He smiled, soft, crooked, honest. "I don't mean to."

"But you do," she said, stepping closer now. "You make everything quieter. Slower. Like I don't have to keep performing all the time. Like it's okay to just. . .exist."

His hand twitched at his side. He wanted to reach for her. But he waited. Just in case she needed one more second. One more breath.

And then she reached for him first.

Fingers slipping into his, tentative at first—like testing the weight of this new thing between them. And when he didn't pull away, when he gently tightened his grip, she finally let her shoulders drop.

It felt like exhaling after holding her breath for years.

"I've wanted this," She whispered. "For longer than I realized."

"So have I," He said. "But I didn't think I deserved it."

"You do," She said, so fiercely he almost flinched. "You always have."

And then, for the first time since they started this strange dance, all the notes, the silences, the glances that lasted just a second too long, they stood face to face with nothing between them but honesty.

"I meant it," She said. "Let's walk home. Together."

He nodded, his hand still wrapped around hers.

"Okay," He said. "Let's go."

And as they left the music room, steps quiet, hearts louder, the sun dipped below the windowsill, casting their shadows across the tiles.

Side by side.

Exactly where they were always meant to be.

No thank-you for the late nights, the near-misses, or the time you took a thrown water bottle to the face from a drunk fan. Just a signature at the bottom and a cold stamp from the agency.

You snorted.

“Professional restructuring,” they called it. That was a fancy way of saying, you’re disposable.

The pay had been good. The schedule? Miserable. The person you guarded? …complicated.

She was every kind of trouble wrapped in expensive perfume and late-night filming schedules. The kind who smiled at the cameras like she was born for it, but left her phone in every dressing room known to mankind.

And you were the one who picked up after her.

Until you weren’t.

You tossed the letter aside and rubbed your eyes. The ceiling hadn’t changed, and neither had your bank balance. You were out of a job, out of options, and two weeks away from being out of rent.

Then you heard your phone ring and vibrate against the table.

A part of you wished it was the company calling and saying that they'll take you back but another part didn't exactly agree. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

You looked at the screen and groaned, it was only your sister.

Rei is calling!

Staring at the screen for another second, you finally swiped on the green button and pressed it against your ear.

“What do you want?” You said, trying to not sound as miserable as you already were.

“Jeez, what happened to you? You sound grumpier than usual.” 

“I got fired,” you said bluntly, letting the words hang in the air like wet laundry.

There was a pause on the other end. Then, your sister sighed, long and exaggerated. “Figures. Figures it had to be that job. Honestly, you were probably too good at it. Agencies hate competent people.”

You raised an eyebrow, even though she couldn’t see it. “Too good? I got tossed aside like yesterday’s leftovers.”

Her laugh echoed through the speaker, warm and teasing. “Well since I'm sure you have nothing else to do today, why don't you head over to the dojo? Dad has been looking for you, y'know. Says you've been ignoring his messages again.”

You groaned, rubbing your face with the heel of your hand. “The dojo. Right. Because getting hit by strangers with a wooden stick is exactly what I needed in my day.”

“You say that like you didn't do it for fun back then,” She teased. “Anyways, while you’re at it, maybe swing by the diner too. I'm short on delivery staff, well delivery man and honestly, you moving around a bit beats lying on the couch looking miserable.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Delivery man now? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!” She said, her voice sharp with that unmistakable mix of sisterly nagging and amusement. “You can still use your. . .unique skills. Think of it as still being a bodyguard. Only instead of protecting someone’s life, you’re protecting miso soup and bento boxes from falling on the street.”

You leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling again. From bodyguard to food courier. Fantastic.

“Fine,” you muttered. “I’ll do it. Happy?”

“Ecstatic!” she said, laughing. “I knew you’d see reason. Now go before I come over there myself and drag you out.”

“But.” You said into the phone, standing up from the couch slowly. “As long as I still get pay.”

“Yeah, yeah, I'll reward my younger brother handsomely, whatever. Just come over once you're done with Dad’s place.” Rei replied before the call beeped and ended in his hands.

By the time you finished your morning routine, if you could call it that, the sun had finally risen high up in the sky. You squinted your eyes as you stepped foot outside and tapped your foot on the floor to fit in the old pair of sneakers you wore.

The trip wasn't that long, just a brisk walk through the city and a stroll through quiet neighborhoods and you finally reached the wooden building that stood out like a sore thumb between houses.

You pushed open the sliding door, and the familiar scent of tatami mats and polished wood hit you immediately. The dojo was quiet—too quiet—and for a moment you wondered if your father had gone on one of his legendary early-morning walks without telling anyone.

“Oi! You finally decided to show up!” a gruff voice called from the back. Your father emerged from the shadows, wooden practice sword in hand, clearly looking far too enthusiastic for this hour.

“Morning, Dad,” You muttered, trying to sound casual while secretly questioning every life choice that led you here.

“Didn’t think you'd actually come by again. Last I heard you were really busy. Is it your day off today?” He said, jabbing the air with his sword.

You gulped, nodding your head reluctantly. “Guess you could say that.”

He snorted, clearly unconvinced, and waved you toward the back room where some of your old sparring partners were warming up. You took one last deep breath and reminded yourself this wasn’t the worst part of your day. That honor still went to the pile of delivery orders waiting at your sister’s diner.

By the time you finished your half-hearted practice, dodging, blocking, and occasionally taking a deliberate hit to your ribs just to get it over with, you were drenched in sweat and vaguely miserable. But at least the dojo portion of your day was done.

You sat down on the floor, heaving in and out breaths of air that came in heavily. You felt someone sit beside you and looking over, it was your father who sat down cross-legged.

“I got fired today. Just got the letter in the mail earlier.” You said, in one breath.

Your father didn’t respond right away. He simply let out a low hum, eyes fixed on the floorboards ahead, the kind of silence that filled every inch of the dojo. For a man who could break a shinai over your head without blinking, he was oddly careful when it came to words.

“Welcome to life.” He said, stifling a laugh.

You turned your head, unsure of what he just said.

“What? You're not mad or anything?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad?” your father said, tilting his head slightly with that same unreadable calm that used to scare your childhood friends. “You’re not a kid anymore. You got fired, so what? Happens to everyone at least once. Twice, if they’re stubborn.”

You blinked at him, sweat still clinging to your hairline. “You’re taking this way too well. I thought you’d lecture me about responsibility or some crap.”

He chuckled, the sound low and unhurried. “If you’re waiting for a lecture, you're about ten years late. I used to waste my breath on you back when you thought punching things solved everything.”

You groaned. “That was one time.”

“That was many times,” he corrected, pointing a calloused finger your way. “But look, you’ll be fine. You’ve still got your health, both your arms, and an annoying sister who actually cares enough to drag you out of bed. You’re already ahead of half the guys I trained with.”

You snorted and ran a hand through your hair. “That’s a low bar, Dad.”

He grinned, that rare, fleeting thing that softened the wrinkles around his eyes. “Low bars are easier to jump over. Anyways, maybe you could take time for yourself since your time isn't so occupied. Maybe even—”

“Help out Rei with her diner?”

“Yeah, that could work too.” He groaned out. “You know how much of a hard worker your sister is but unfortunately she only has one set of hands and feet so sometimes you have to step in and help.”

You let the silence stretch out with a nod before your father spoke with a nudge to your side.

“What happened during your last time out anyways? I thought you were doing an alright job, surely you didn’t cause that much trouble, right?” 

Your eyes found the mat below you before your shoulders shrugged themselves. “That was what I also thought until I got the letter in the mail. And nothing happened during my last shift. . .it’s just that.” 

Your father tilted his head slightly, noticing the drop of your tone.

With a sigh, you decided to say what you could remember during your last time out.

.

.

.

There were cameras, lots of them.

Camera flashes going off and camera shutters springing into the night air as the red carpet lit up.

You remembered the chaos first — that sharp, electric hum that came whenever Kawakami Lynn stepped out of the car.

The crowd roared, a wave of sound crashing over you the moment her heels hit the red carpet. You stood a few steps behind her, eyes scanning the crowd for movement, every muscle wired tight. Flashbulbs went off like lightning strikes, each one catching her smile, her wave, the glint of her earrings.

You’d seen it a hundred times before, but it still amazed you how easily she slipped into that persona. The actress. The star.

Not the woman who once nearly burned down a set trying to make instant ramen in her dressing room.

She laughed at something a reporter said, the kind of effortless laugh that made everyone around her lean in. You didn’t look. You couldn’t. Your focus was on the crowd, on the man in the front row who looked a little too eager, on the fans pushing past the barriers.

That’s supposed to be your job. Or was.

You remembered how it all went downhill after that.

One of the paparazzi had gotten too close, shoved his camera into her face, nearly tripping her heel. Before she could even flinch, your hand was already on the guy’s shoulder, shoving him back a few steps. Nothing major. Just enough to make a point.

Except someone caught it on video.

By the next morning, the clip was trending online:

“Bodyguard Assaults Photographer — Actress Silent Amid Controversy.”

You could still picture the way the agency rep wouldn’t look you in the eye during your final meeting.

“Your. . .enthusiasm for protecting our client has become a liability.”

You’d wanted to argue, to say you were doing your job,  but what was the point? The decision was already made.

You blinked yourself back to the present, exhaling through your nose. “That’s pretty much it,” you muttered. “Didn’t even get to explain. Guess it’s easier to fire someone than admit the industry’s full of vultures.”

Your father didn’t say anything right away. He just grunted softly, the kind of sound that carried a mix of sympathy and reluctant amusement. “So you got fired for doing your job too well.”

You gave a dry laugh. “Yeah, tell that to my landlord.”

He pushed himself to his feet with a groan, dusting his palms off. “Then stop moping and do something useful. Rei’s gonna chew your ear off if you don’t show up soon.”

VRRRT! VRRRT!

“Speak of the devil.” You mumbled, glancing at your phone on the mat beside you and then at the contact that was calling.

You picked up the phone again and pressed it to your ear.

“Are you done over there?!” The loud voice of Rei shouted out through the phone.

You flinched and held the phone an inch away from your ear. “Good morning to you too,” you said dryly.

“Morning, my ass! You were supposed to be here an hour ago!” Rei barked. You could practically hear the sound of frying oil and clattering pans behind her, the diner in full chaos.

“I was sparring,” you replied. “Dad insisted.”

“Oh, please. The only thing Dad insists on is people not bleeding on his mats. You can spar anytime, I’ve got customers who actually pay me.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re really selling this job, you know that?”

“Do you want a medal or a paycheck?” she shot back without missing a beat.

Your father chuckled beside you, clearly enjoying the show. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Dad says hi,” you said.

“Tell him I said he owes me lunch,” Rei snapped.

“Rei says you owe her lunch,” you relayed, and your father just laughed louder.

You sighed and rubbed your temple. “Look, I’m on my way, alright? Just give me like… ten minutes.”

“Make it five, unless you want me to send Haruto to get you.”

You froze. “Haruto? The new guy?”

“Yeah. He’s eager, cheerful, and terrifyingly punctual. You’d hate him.”

“Right. Five minutes,” you said quickly and hung up before she could say anything else.

Your father smirked. “She’s got you on a leash.”

“She’s got everyone on a leash,” you muttered, standing and grabbing your jacket.

He gave a small nod and leaned back against the wall. “You could do worse than working for your sister. Keep yourself busy, clear your head. Who knows — maybe life’s just setting you up for something interesting.”

“Yeah, sure,” you said, not even pretending to believe him.

But an hour later, when you found yourself in front of Rei’s diner, hair still damp from another rushed shower, you had to admit, “interesting” wasn’t the word.

“Pathetic” was closer.

The bell over the diner door clanged like an accusatory clock. Heat and steam hit you the second you stepped inside, the scent of frying garlic, soy sauce, and a chorus of voices calling orders. Rei’s diner was small and loud and exactly the kind of chaos you’d once managed with military precision. Now you were in the back, fumbling with an apron two sizes too small and trying not to look like you’d just been dragged out of bed.

“About time,” Rei barked before she even looked up. She had that way of making everything sound like an announcement, orders, insults, compliments, none of them optional. Her hair was tied into a quickly tied bun, a streak of flour across one cheek, and she wielded a spatula like a conductor’s baton. It suited her.

“Nice to see you too,” You said, dropping into a stool by the counter. Your sister, already in motion, threw a scooter helmet which you caught, barely.

“Stay right there while I fix those orders for you, okay?” She said, as if she was ordering a puppy. Then, she disappeared into the steam of the kitchen. 

You sighed looking around the place. 

The walls were cluttered with faded photographs and old posters—half nostalgia, half distraction. One showed your dad in his prime, holding a trophy with a crooked grin. Another showed you and Rei as kids, standing in front of the same diner back when your mother was still the one running the counter. You almost smiled. Almost.

“Don’t just sit there looking dramatic,” Rei’s voice snapped from behind you. You turned to see her carrying two plastic bags over the counter, barely breaking a sweat. “The addresses should be written on the receipt inside and the scooter should just be outside too. You do know how to drive, right?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking that like you didn’t teach me how to when I was thirteen.”

“Yeah, and you almost drove into a mailbox,” She said flatly, shoving the bags into your hands. “So excuse me if I have trust issues.”

You rolled your eyes and took the handles, feeling the familiar weight dig into your fingers. “I was thirteen, Rei. My legs barely reached the pedals.”

“And yet here you are, still making excuses. Touching.” She wiped her hands on her apron and nodded toward the door. “Go on. First one’s a couple of blocks away. Don’t drop anything or I’m docking your pay.”

“You’re not even paying me yet,” You muttered, stepping toward the door.

“Exactly,” she called back with a grin. “So don’t mess up.”

The bell clanged again as you pushed out into the street. The noontime sun was sharp but not exactly unbearable, glinting off the rows of scooters parked by the curb. You spotted yours easily, a battered thing with a dented fender, the delivery food container sticking out the back and a paint job that already peeled off the side.

It wasn’t glamorous.

It wasn’t even remotely close to what you used to do.

But as the city air hit your face, weaving between cars and storefronts, a small part of you felt… free. No schedules, no body earpiece crackling in your ear, no one barking “eyes front” every ten seconds. Just you, the hum of the motor, and a paper bag of noodles fighting gravity in the backseat.

You made the first few deliveries without incident — a salaryman who barely looked up from his phone, a tired office worker who tipped in coins, an elderly lady who insisted you take a pack of seaweed snacks “for energy.”

Little did you notice that you had somehow spent almost the whole afternoon weaving through traffic to get back and forth from the diner and back to the city.

By the time you returned, the sun was already melting into the horizon, the light outside soft and orange like it couldn’t decide whether to stay or leave. You parked the scooter, muscles sore, legs buzzing, and shoulders still tense from a day of balancing trays and dodging pedestrians.

Rei was at the counter when you stepped back in, wiping her hands on a towel. The diner had quieted down, only a couple of regulars left slurping noodles at the far end. She looked up when the door chimed.

“You’re late,” She said automatically.

You stared at her. “You realize I’ve been gone all day, right? Delivering your food.”

She shrugged. “And now you’re back. Which means you can do another one.”

You groaned. “You’re seriously trying to kill me.”

“Not yet,” Rei said, reaching under the counter and pulling out another plastic bag, tied neatly with the receipt stapled to the side. “Last one for the night. Building’s not far, just a few blocks from the train station. After that, you can go sulk at home all you want.”

You squinted at her. “You mean sleep?”

“Depends how you take it.” She slid the bag across the counter. “Go on. Chop-chop.”

You sighed, grabbed the bag, and glanced at the address. The name of the building caught your attention immediately — Crystal Garden Residences.

You frowned. That name sounded way too familiar. You’d driven past it a few times, one of those shiny glass towers that seemed allergic to people like you. It wasn’t exactly the kind of place that ordered takeout.

“Fancy place,” you muttered. “Hope they tip.”

Rei didn’t even look up. “Hope you don’t get lost.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped outside again. The air had cooled down, carrying that faint hint of rain and exhaust that always hung over the city at night. You strapped the food in, started the scooter, and headed off.

The streets were quieter now, traffic lights reflecting on the wet asphalt as you passed convenience stores closing up and couples walking home. A long day, but at least this was the last one.

When you reached the building, you had to double-check the address just to make sure you hadn’t wandered into the wrong dimension. The place looked even more absurd up close — tall, sleek, and gleaming with gold accents that probably cost more than your entire apartment.

You parked near the curb, straightened your shirt, and walked into the lobby. The air conditioning hit you like a wall, carrying the faint scent of citrus and money.

The receptionist glanced up from her desk. “Delivery?”

“Yeah,” you said, showing the bag. “For. . . uh, Unit 1502.”

She checked something on her screen, then smiled politely. “You can head up. The elevator’s on your right.”

You nodded and made your way to the elevator, the polished floors reflecting every scuff on your sneakers. Inside, you caught sight of your own reflection in the mirrored walls — messy hair, tired eyes, shirt half-wrinkled. Definitely not the look of someone who used to stand in the background of red carpets.

When the elevator doors opened, you stepped into a quiet hallway lined with gold-trimmed lighting and expensive-looking art. Looking down on the receipt for another time, you glanced over the instructions left by the customer.

“Leave it at the door and ring the bell.”

You nodded, replaying the words in your head before you found the door and placed the bag of food before the door.  With a satisfied breath, you walked back down the hall with only the thought of laying down on your bed after a long day.

Then it hit you.

You forgot to take a picture of the food on the door.

You froze mid-step, staring blankly at the hallway carpet. “Shit.”

The word came out like a sigh, half defeat, half disbelief. You turned back around, muttering to yourself as you jogged a few steps. “One job. Literally one damn job.”

You grabbed your phone from your pocket, already opening the delivery app, ready to snap the proof photo and be done with it. You crouched, lined up the shot when the door opened.

The sudden click and swing of it nearly made you drop your phone.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding—”

“. . .(YN)?”

You blinked up, heart skipping once, twice, like your brain needed a second to process the sight in front of you.

There she was.

Hair loosely over her shoulders, still damp from a shower, wearing an oversized hoodie that probably cost more than your scooter.

Barefoot. 

Familiar.

Unmistakably familiar.

Of course it had to be her.

Kawakami Lynn.

Her eyes widened.

So did yours.

And with each of you putting a hand over your lips in dramatic fashion, the both of you shouted.

“You again?!”

Your voice echoed down the pristine hallway, bouncing off marble walls and framed abstract art, a perfect stage for your mutual disbelief.

Lynn blinked first, lowering her hand but keeping that incredulous look. “You’re— wait, you’re delivering my dinner?!”

You stood up slowly, dusting off your knees with a groan. “Trust me, this isn’t my idea of a reunion.”

She crossed her arms, still standing in the doorway with that same movie-star posture, even in an oversized hoodie and pajama shorts. “I thought you were doing. . .I don’t know, actual security work? Important stuff?”

“I was,” You said, rubbing the back of your neck. “Until someone’s management decided they didn’t need ‘extra muscle’ anymore.”

Her lips parted. “Oh.” Then, after a second, “So it’s my fault?”

You gave her a flat stare. “Did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to,” She shot back, though her tone carried the tiniest edge of guilt. “You’re looking at me like I personally took your badge and handed you a takeout bag.”

You exhaled sharply, trying not to roll your eyes. “Relax. I’m not blaming you. Just. . . ironic timing, I guess.”

Lynn looked you over for a moment, taking in the wrinkled shirt and tired eyes before muttering under her breath, “So you were the one who got laid off.”

“What?” You raised your head up from the food to look at her.

“I was curious when the managers were talking about laying someone off today, guess I got my answer.” She explained.

You groaned, “Great, even the whole company is talking about me.” 

Lynn leaned against the doorframe, crossing one leg over the other, looking way too casual for someone who just blew up your week without lifting a finger.

“Well, what did you expect? You were kind of hard to miss,” she said. “The guy who barely talks, always in a suit, always hovering around me like a shadow? People notice when the shadow suddenly disappears.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Glad to know I left such a legacy.”

She tilted her head, studying you. “You really didn’t see it coming?”

You gave her a look. “Would I be standing here holding takeout if I did?”

Lynn hesitated, eyes darting briefly to the floor before returning to you. “It wasn’t personal, you know. The agency’s cutting down—budget stuff, PR image, all that nonsense.”

You shrugged, not quite trusting yourself to answer without sounding bitter. “Doesn’t matter now. You got your dinner, I got my tip, hopefully.”

That made her frown a little. “You’re seriously doing delivery work?”

“Bills don’t pay themselves.” You met her gaze, voice flat but steady. “Besides, it’s honest work. No one throws bottles or screams at me for blocking their camera angles.”

Lynn’s lips pressed together, and for a brief second, she looked less like the celebrity plastered across billboards and more like a person,  unsure, maybe even guilty. “I didn’t know it got that bad.”

You smirked faintly. “You weren’t supposed to. My job was making sure you didn’t.”

That shut her up for a moment. The hallway hummed softly with the sound of the building’s air conditioning. She shifted her weight, the expression on her face caught somewhere between guilt and curiosity.

Then, her tone softened. “Do you… want to come in for a minute? You look like you’ve been running around all day.”

You blinked. “You’re inviting your delivery guy inside?”

Her brow furrowed, and she crossed her arms again. “I’m inviting someone I know inside. Don’t make it weird.”

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re assuming I want to come in.”

Her lips curved into a smirk. “You’re standing there like you might collapse if I don’t let you sit down.”

You looked down at yourself,  damp hair, sweat still clinging to your collar and sighed. She wasn’t wrong.

“Fine,” you muttered, stepping past her into the apartment. “But I’m only staying for five minutes.”

“Sure,” she said, closing the door behind you with that faint, knowing smile. “Five minutes.”

You removed the helmet slowly while you looked around the place. It was just your run of the mill apartment, white wallpaper and some furniture scattered throughout.

The apartment looked clean, maybe a bit too clean. There wasn't any sign that it had been lived in for a while, it all looked artificial the way everything seemed to be where they were like a showroom.

You looked into the plastic again, picking out the receipt and at the name of the customer who ordered, it wasn't hers.

Lynn made her way past you and walked to the couch in the small living room. She turned on the TV and watched some soap opera that was on as if you weren't there.

She shifted on the couch, pulling one knee up and resting her chin on it, eyes still flicking between you and the TV. The soap opera couple was arguing about betrayal in the background, dramatic music swelling under every line.

“Wow,” you muttered, setting the delivery bag on the coffee table. “Didn’t expect your place to look this… normal.”

Lynn didn’t look away from the screen. “Sorry to disappoint. Were you expecting velvet curtains and a champagne fountain?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging. “Something less empty.”

That made her glance at you, before her gaze went back to the TV. “Empty’s easier to keep clean.”

You studied her for a moment. Her tone was casual, but there was something about the way she said it, quiet, automatic, like she’d said it to herself too many times before.

“Guess that explains why you ordered takeout under someone else’s name,” you said, tapping the receipt. “You hiding from the fans or the food delivery app?”

She shot you a look, half amused, half annoyed. “You really check customer names?”

“Only when it’s suspicious.”

“The place isn't mine, a friend told me I could stay here so might as well use her name too.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A friend, huh? Must be nice having ones who lend you luxury apartments.”

Lynn gave a soft, humorless laugh, her gaze drifting back to the TV. “Yeah. She’s overseas for work. Doesn’t use the place anymore, so she said I could stay until I figured things out.”

“Figured things out?” you echoed, leaning against the counter. “That doesn’t sound like the Lynn I remember. You used to have everything figured out.”

Her lips twitched at that, not quite a smile, not quite a frown. “Yeah, well. Turns out life didn’t get that memo.”

You watched her for a beat. The actress on the TV was still crying, begging someone to stay, and Lynn’s reflection flickered faintly across the screen, the same glossy expression, except hers looked real.

You crossed your arms. “So what’s a C-list actress doing crashing in a friend’s apartment, eating takeout under a fake name?”

She glanced at you, that familiar sharpness flashing in her eyes again. “You really don’t know when to stop asking questio-wait what did you call me?”

“Nothing.” You shrugged your shoulders.

Lynn clicked her tongue before settling back down to watch her show, dodging your question too.

You helped yourself to the kitchen that was devoid of anything besides the stove and the heater.

“I'll just grab a glass and I'll get going.” You said, opening the cupboards.

Lynn didn’t look up from the TV, but you could feel her eyes on you, faint and calculating.

“Water?” she asked finally, her voice low, careful. Not polite. Not exactly concerned. Just… offering.

“Yeah, thanks,” you said, grabbing a glass and filling it at the tap. The faucet clinked against the metal, loud in the otherwise quiet apartment.

You turned back toward the counter to lean against it, trying to act casual. But the apartment felt strange now, too empty, too quiet, yet somehow weighted. It wasn’t just the lack of furniture or decoration. It was her. The way she’d softened just enough, the way she hadn’t asked for company directly, but clearly wanted it.

Once you finished your glass, you placed it back in the sink and turned the faucet just long enough for you to rinse it. 

You rinsed the glass and set it on the counter, wiping your hands on your pants before turning around. “Alright, five minutes are up. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Good,” She said immediately, eyes glued to the TV.

You smirked. “Wow, no hesitation at all.”

“I mean—” she straightened up slightly, her tone sharp but too quick, too defensive. “You said five minutes, didn’t you? I’m just respecting your schedule.”

You leaned a shoulder against the wall, watching her. “Right. Respecting my schedule.”

Her grip on the remote tightened, like she was trying to look casual but forgot how.

Then, just as you were about to grab your helmet, she blurted out, “You didn’t even eat anything.”

You blinked. “Was I supposed to?”

“No, I just—” She frowned, searching for a good excuse, “—you look like you’re starving, that’s all. I don’t want you passing out in the elevator or something and ruining my image when people find out my old bodyguard died outside my door.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Your image, huh?”

“Don’t twist it!” She said quickly, crossing her arms again and looking away. “I just don’t want to deal with the guilt, okay?”

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “You really haven’t changed.”

Lynn huffed, trying to hide the smile tugging at her mouth. “And you really still talk too much.”

You walked back to the counter, eyeing the delivery bag. “You ordered enough food for two people, anyway.”

Her shoulders stiffened, almost imperceptibly. “That’s—it’s called variety, okay? I like having options.”

“Right,” You said, pulling out one of the smaller containers. “Then you won’t mind if I try one of your options.”

“Hey!” She snapped, sitting up straight. “That’s mine!”

But she didn’t actually stop you. She just watched, indignant but flustered, as you took a seat on the arm of the couch and ate a piece of dumpling. You could feel her glare burning into the side of your face.

“It’s cold,” you said between bites. “You should’ve eaten earlier.”

She scoffed, grabbing the remote and pretending to change the channel. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime,” You replied with a smirk.

Lynn rolled her eyes, but she didn’t tell you to leave again.

Instead, she adjusted the cushion beside her, almost like she was making space, though she’d probably deny it if you pointed it out.

When you finally sat down next to her, she muttered, “You’re sitting too close.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“I could’ve,” she said, leaning back with her arms crossed, cheeks faintly peek, “but then you’d probably make a scene about it. And I don’t have the energy.”

You bit back a grin. “So, you want me here?”

She turned her face toward the TV, voice just a touch softer.

“Don’t push your luck.”

.

.

.

Five minutes turned into ten. Ten turned into twenty.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but you were halfway through a box of noodles by the time you realized the clock on the wall had crept past eight.

“Thought you said five minutes,” Lynn said suddenly, though her tone was more lazy than sharp now. She had turned sideways on the couch, legs folded up beneath her, chin propped on her hand.

“I did,” you said, twirling a noodle around your chopsticks. “You didn’t kick me out.”

She clicked her tongue. “I was being nice.”

You looked over at her, unimpressed. “You? Nice? I must’ve missed that.”

Lynn tossed a cushion at your head. You caught it midair, smirking.

“Keep talking like that, and I’ll change my mind.”

“About being nice or letting me eat your food?”

“Both.”

You laughed quietly, the sound earning her reluctant smile — the kind that looked like it surprised even her. She quickly hid it by taking a sip of water.

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time. The TV played on, some melodramatic scene about a forbidden love triangle, but neither of you were really watching. The faint hum of the city outside filled the room instead, soft, steady, almost too peaceful.

You leaned back, setting the empty box down. “So. . .has this always been your life? Soap operas and cold takeout?”

She made a face. “You make it sound pathetic.”

“I didn’t say pathetic,” you said with a teasing grin. “Just. . .quiet.”

She sighed, eyes still fixed on the screen. “Quiet’s not so bad.”

You turned your head toward her. “You always hated quiet.”

That made her pause,  just barely. You could see it in the way her shoulders stiffened. “People change,” she said finally, her voice lighter but not quite convincing. “Besides, quiet means no one’s yelling at you to fix your hair or smile more.”

You studied her in the dim light. No cameras, no stylists, no fake smiles. Just her, in a hoodie too big for her frame, barefoot and trying way too hard to look unaffected.

“So this is why you ordered under a fake name,” you said softly. “Didn’t want anyone to know where you were.”

“Maybe,” she said, shrugging. “Or maybe I just didn’t want anyone showing up.”

You smiled faintly. “Except me, apparently.”

Lynn turned her head sharply, cheeks flushing just a little. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t ask you to show up.”

“No, but you didn’t slam the door either.”

She shot you a look. “You’re impossible.”

“Admit it,” you said, leaning forward slightly. “You missed me.”

Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and you swore you saw the tiniest spark of panic flicker across her face.

She scoffed, turning back toward the TV. “You wish.”

You grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Take it however you want,” she muttered, curling up tighter on the couch. “Just. . .shut up. The show’s finally getting good.”

You settled back, arms crossed, hiding your smile. “Sure, Lynn.”

Neither of you spoke again after that. The drama played on, voices echoing faintly in the background, but you could feel the air shift,  softer, almost warm.

Her shoulder brushed yours once when she reached for the remote, and she didn’t move away this time.

Five minutes turned into an hour.

And somehow, neither of you seemed in a hurry to end it.

Yet when it was time to go, she walked you to the front door. You carried the helmet under your arm while she trailed behind you.

Once you stepped out, you turned to her and nodded your head, a quiet gesture that told her that you were on your way.

But after a few steps away from the door, she cleared her throat.

“I'll be ordering again. Tomorrow, that is.”

You turned back, halfway down the hall, eyebrows raised. “That so?”

Lynn’s arms crossed instantly, like she needed the barrier. “Don’t read into it. I just—” she paused, fumbling for a tone that didn’t sound like she cared. “The food wasn’t bad. That’s all.”

You bit back a grin. “Right. Has nothing to do with me being the one delivering it?”

She scoffed, too quick. “Please. You just happen to work for the place I like. Total coincidence.”

“Total,” you echoed, tilting your head. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, by pure coincidence.”

Her lips twitched, like she was fighting the urge to smile. “If you show up late, I’ll ask for a refund.”

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Kawakami.”

That earned you a glare. “Don’t call me that. Not when I’m home.”

There was something fragile about the way she said it, almost quiet, like it slipped out before she could stop herself. The air between you shifted again, subtle but unmistakable.

You nodded once, the teasing tone gone. “Alright. Lynn it is.”

She blinked, a little thrown off by your gentleness, and looked away first. “Good.”

You adjusted your helmet under your arm. “Get some sleep. And maybe try eating something that isn’t takeout next time.”

“I’ll think about it.” She said it like a challenge, but her voice had softened.

You turned toward the elevator, and as the doors slid open, you glanced back just once. She was still standing there by the doorway, arms crossed, but her posture wasn’t defensive anymore, just hesitant, like she wasn’t sure whether to wave or call you back.

“Night,” you said.

“...Night,” she replied, barely above a whisper.

The doors closed, and for a brief second, you caught your reflection in the mirror panel, tired, smiling, and more awake than you’d felt all day.

Meanwhile, up in 1502, Lynn stood alone in the doorway for a long moment, chewing on her lip before muttering under her breath, 

“Idiot.”

.

.

.

The trip back was quiet, only because the once loud and bustling city had slowly started to wind down for the night. You weaved your way through the streets that were much more open than before.

Lights were scattered on the sidewalk, neon splashed itself across the road in front of you, and the streetlights seemed brighter than usual, like the city had finally taken a deep breath and let itself rest.

The hum of your scooter filled the silence, steady and low. The air was cooler now, brushing against your face as you turned past familiar corners, the ramen stand that was closing up, the convenience store clerk stacking shelves behind glass, the old vending machine outside the bus stop flickering weakly.

For the first time in a while, you didn’t feel like you were in a rush. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was because your head was still replaying that scene in her apartment, the flicker of the TV, her lazy half-smile, the way she’d said see you tomorrow without really saying it.

You shook your head, muttering to yourself, “She’s still the same, huh.”

Annoying. Stubborn. Impossible.

And yet—

The red light ahead turned green, snapping you out of it. You throttled forward, the engine sputtering just slightly before catching up again.

By the time you pulled up in front of Rei’s diner, the sign was half lit, one of the letters already dying out. You parked by the curb, stretching your arms with a tired groan before stepping inside.

The bell above the door jingled, and Rei looked up from wiping a table. “You’re late.”

You sighed, tossing your helmet onto the counter. “Yeah, traffic.”

“Traffic doesn't take four hours to get through.” She replied, tossing the towel over her shoulder.

“It does when I somehow bump into my old boss.” You shot back, taking up a seat and looking at the now empty kitchen.

“What do you mean by that?” Rei asked, taking the seat next to you and nudging your arm away.

You ran a hand through your hair and leaned against the counter, letting out a tired laugh. “Exactly what it sounds like. I delivered to her place.”

Rei blinked. “Her? As in—”

“Yeah,” you said before she could finish. “The celebrity I was assigned to.”

Rei let out a low whistle, dragging out the sound for way too long. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I wish I was.”

She leaned in, grinning like she was watching her favorite drama unfold live. “So? What happened? Did she throw a wine glass at you? Threaten to sue the diner? Cry?—wait, did you comfort her?”

You gave her a flat look. “I’m not you. I don’t comfort people. I delivered the food, she insulted me, I insulted her back, and then I left.”

“Uh-huh,” Rei said, drawing out the syllables, clearly unconvinced. “And how long did this mutual insulting take?”

You hesitated. “...A few minutes.”

She smirked. “A few minutes or a few hours?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, realizing you didn’t actually have a good answer. “Doesn’t matter,” you muttered, and Rei nearly fell off her stool laughing.

“It does when it takes you hours to get back here. But I didn't think you two were exactly close given the whole celebrity-bodyguard thing.”

Rei was right.

You and Lynn weren't exactly friends to begin with. She was just there while you dispersed crowds or kept them at an arm's length away from her.

You rubbed at the back of your neck, the old ache there returning just from the thought. “Yeah, well. It wasn’t exactly something worth talking about.”

Rei raised an eyebrow, leaning her cheek against her palm. “You guarded her for, what, two years? You barely said anything about it. I thought it was just another temporary job.”

“It was,” You said automatically, though the word came out hollow even to your own ears.

Rei chuckled. “Sure. A temporary job that apparently still lives in your head.”

You sighed. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

You glanced over at her. Rei had that look again, the one that said she’d keep digging until you gave her something. She was good at reading people, too good sometimes. Maybe that’s why you ended up spending your nights here when you didn’t want to go home.

You looked down at the countertop, tracing a faint scratch on the surface with your thumb. “She was. . .difficult. The kind of person who walks into a room and everyone either loves her or wants to leave immediately.”

Rei’s grin softened a little. “And you were which one?”

“Depends on the day.” You smiled faintly. “Mostly the second one.”

“Sounds about right.” Rei folded the towel and placed it on the table. “So what was it like? Babysitting a celebrity?”

You exhaled, shoulders sagging. “Long hours. No sleep. Always being five steps behind someone who doesn’t want to be protected. Half the time she’d sneak off just to piss me off.”

Rei snorted. “Sounds fun.”

“Not really,” You said quietly. Then after a beat, you added, “But she was good at pretending she didn’t care about anyone. That’s what made her. . .hard to hate.”

Rei studied you for a second, and you could feel her gaze like a spotlight. “You talk about her like you still—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted sharply.

Her lips curved into a smirk. “Touchy.”

You groaned. “I’m serious, Rei. It’s ancient history.”

“Right, right.” She stood, stretching her arms. “Ancient history that just happens to have ordered food under a fake name tonight.”

You shot her a look. “You know, you’re really bad at minding your own business.”

“Someone has to mind yours,” She said over her shoulder, heading back toward the kitchen. “Besides, it’s not like you’re fooling anyone. If she orders again tomorrow, you’ll take the job, won’t you?”

You didn’t answer.

Mostly because you already knew the answer.

The hum of the diner’s fridge filled the silence. You stared at the reflection of the neon sign flickering in the window, the half-lit glow that made everything look softer, a little more distant.

You told yourself you didn’t care. That it didn’t matter. That it was just another delivery.

But even as you packed up your helmet and stood to leave, your mind betrayed you,  flicking back to the quiet in her apartment, the way she’d looked at you like she didn’t quite know what to say, and didn’t want you to go.

And when Rei called out from the kitchen, “Bet you’ll see her again,”

You didn’t have it in you to argue.

.

.

.

The next day came, and things were still the same.

You woke up in your small apartment, the kind where sunlight barely made it past the blinds and the ceiling fan creaked like it had been threatening to fall for years. You brushed your teeth, splashed cold water on your face, and tried not to think about last night.

Same city, same streets, same noise outside your window, and yet, somehow, it all felt heavier.

By the time you got dressed and headed downstairs, the early morning air was still damp from the night before. You slipped your keys into your pocket and rode out toward your sister’s restaurant, the familiar hum of the scooter beneath you grounding you back into the rhythm of your day.

Rei’s diner sat on the corner of the block, wedged between a laundromat and a small stationery shop that never seemed to have customers. The sign still flickered, though now the “E” had finally given up completely, leaving it to read R I’s Diner.

You pushed the door open, and the bell gave its usual weak jingle. Rei was already behind the counter, hair tied up, apron on, coffee in hand.

“Morning,” She said without looking up from her phone.

“Morning,” You replied, setting your helmet down with a dull thud. “Any deliveries?”

Rei nodded toward the small stack of receipts by the register. “A couple of regulars. Office orders, one residential.” She glanced up with a sly grin. “Don’t worry, not that residential.”

You shot her a flat look. “You really think I’d care?”

“I think you do care,” She said, returning to her coffee. “But you’re too proud to admit it.”

You ignored her and started checking the order slips anyway. Two sandwiches for a nearby office, one curry rice for a guy in the same building as the flower shop. Nothing unusual. Nothing that made your chest tighten the way it did last night.

Rei leaned on the counter, watching you. “So. You gonna tell me what really happened?”

You paused mid-fold. “I already did.”

“Yeah, yeah. You insulted each other and left. Classic you.”

“That is what happened.”

Rei hummed in mock agreement, clearly not buying it. “Sure. You didn’t, say, stick around for an hour watching bad TV and making heart eyes at your ex-boss?”

You looked up sharply. “What—no! We weren’t—she’s not—”

Rei’s grin widened. “Uh-huh. You stutter like that, I almost believe you.”

You groaned, grabbing the first two bags. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re predictable,” she said, calling out as you headed for the door. “Bet you anything she calls again today!”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. Just raised your hand in a lazy half-wave and stepped outside.

The air was brighter now, morning sunlight catching on the rooftops. You started the scooter, the engine sputtering to life, and drove off down the street.

You told yourself Rei was wrong. That it was just another day, just another route, nothing out of the ordinary.

But some part of you knew she wasn't.

.

.

.

Half a day of weaving through traffic, balancing takeout bags with one hand and your sanity with the other, and collecting just enough tips to make it feel worth it,  you found yourself back in front of the diner again.

The sun was already starting to dip, washing the street in a pale orange glow. Your back ached, your arms felt like lead, and your stomach had been growling since the second delivery of the morning.

You parked the scooter in its usual spot and kicked the stand down with a dull clack. The smell of fried rice and coffee drifted out through the open window of the diner, faint but familiar, the kind of scent that reminded you of routine, of normalcy.

When you pushed open the door, the bell above it jingled halfheartedly. Rei was behind the counter again, this time sipping a soda through a straw, lazily scrolling through her phone.

“Back already,” she said without looking up. “Guess no one threw anything at you today.”

You dropped your helmet onto the counter and slumped into the nearest stool. “Not yet. Give it an hour.”

Rei finally looked up and smirked. “Rough day?”

“Same as always,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “Some guy argued about the soup temperature for ten minutes. Another tried to pay me in coins. One old lady called me handsome though, so that was nice.”

She chuckled, leaning her elbows on the counter. “Sounds like you’re really living the dream.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small grin tugged at your lips anyway. “Dream or nightmare, depends on the tip.”

“Speaking of tips…” Rei reached under the counter and pulled out her tablet. “New order came in a few minutes ago. Said it’s urgent.”

You groaned. “You’re kidding. Can’t I sit for five minutes?”

“Normally, I’d say yes,” She said, tilting her head with that too-sweet smile she used whenever she was up to something. “But you might want to check the address first.”

You frowned, grabbing the device from her hand. The screen glowed faintly, displaying the order details, a familiar restaurant’s name, a familiar meal, and then, at the very bottom. . .

Delivery Address: Apartment 1502, Skyview Tower.

You stared at it for a few seconds before letting out a slow exhale. “. . .You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Rei’s grin spread ear to ear. “Oh, I’m definitely not.”

“Did she seriously order again?” you muttered.

“Hey, maybe she liked the food,” Rei said with a teasing tone. “Or maybe she liked the delivery guy.”

You glared at her, but it only made her laugh harder.

“Don’t start,” you warned, grabbing the thermal bag from the hook behind the counter.

“I didn’t say anything,” She said, raising both hands innocently. “But maybe fix your hair this time. You look like you lost a fight with your helmet.”

You rolled your eyes on your way out, and she cackled loud enough for the sound to follow you out the door.

By the time you were back on the scooter, the sky had gone from orange to deep blue. The city lights flickered to life one by one, and you couldn’t help the quiet sigh that escaped you as you turned down the same street as last night.

Same route.

Same building.

Same person.

.

.

.

When you finally reached the building, you parked and set the stand up for the scooter just outside the main doors. The glass facade of Skyview Tower gleamed under the city lights, sleek, polished, expensive, the kind of place that made you instantly aware of how scuffed your shoes were.

You ran a hand through your hair, not that it did much to help, and walked through the automatic doors. The cool rush of air-conditioning greeted you immediately, along with the faint scent of polished marble and lilies from the decorative vase near the reception desk.

“Back again?” the receptionist asked, a polite but knowing smile tugging at her lips. You’d seen her before, last night, in fact. She probably remembered.

“Yeah,” you muttered, setting the thermal bag down to sign the visitor sheet. “Same floor.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly curious, but decided against asking questions. “You know the way.”

You gave her a short nod. “Thanks.”

By the time you stepped into the elevator, the silence hit, heavy, humming, and somehow too clean. You stood in the center, eyes fixed on your own reflection in the mirrored walls again. Same tired eyes. Same worn-out clothes. Except this time, you noticed the faintest curl of amusement in your reflection’s mouth, like even you couldn’t tell if this was trouble or something else entirely.

You tapped the button for the 15th floor. The elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, and the city below slowly disappeared through the gap as you ascended.

Somewhere between the 7th and 10th floor, your brain started whispering things you didn’t want to hear, she said she’d order again, she probably didn’t mean it, don’t overthink this.

By the time the elevator dinged open, you’d half convinced yourself that this was just coincidence. Pure luck. Random chance.

But then again, nothing about Kawakami Lynn ever felt like coincidence.

The hallway was quiet again, same golden lights, same spotless floors. You adjusted the strap of the thermal bag over your shoulder and walked toward her door.

This time, you hesitated before knocking. Just a second. Long enough to wonder if she was even home, or if she’d just ordered to mess with you.

Then, with a quiet sigh, you raised your hand and pressed the doorbell.

A few muffled seconds passed.

Then came the sound of soft footsteps approaching, a lock turning, and the faint click of the door opening.

The door cracked open, just slightly at first, and then wider, revealing Lynn standing there in a loose sweatshirt , hair pulled up in a messy bun this time. She blinked once, twice, like she’d expected someone else entirely.

“Oh,” She said finally, tone carefully neutral. “You.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, me. Unless you were expecting a different delivery guy.”

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. “I didn’t expect you to actually take the order again. Don’t you have, like, a whole team of riders or something?”

You gestured toward your thermal bag. “Rei’s diner isn’t exactly a global operation. It’s just me.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, almost teasing. “So, what, you deliver my food personally now?”

You gave her a flat look. “You’re lucky I didn’t turn around the second I saw your name on the receipt.”

Lynn’s expression flickered, just a tiny twitch, as if she was trying not to smile. “You say that, but here you are.”

You exhaled slowly through your nose. “Here I am.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sound of the city filtered faintly through the window behind her, traffic murmurs, distant sirens, life moving on outside while the two of you stood still.

Then she cleared her throat and stepped aside, trying to sound casual. “Well? Are you just going to stand there with the food or actually come in?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I thought delivery protocol said to leave it at the door.”

“Protocol’s flexible,” she said, almost too quickly, before adding, “Unless you’re scared or something.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “You really don’t know how to just say please, do you?”

Lynn smirked, brushing past you toward the kitchen counter. “I don’t remember asking for politeness lessons from my ex-bodyguard.”

You followed her in, setting the bag on the counter. “And I don’t remember agreeing to free therapy sessions for bored actresses.”

She looked over her shoulder, eyes glinting. “You assume I’m bored.”

“You ordered the same meal two days in a row,” you pointed out, unpacking the takeout containers. “That’s either boredom or bad taste.”

Lynn didn’t answer right away. She just sat at the counter stool, resting her chin in her hand, watching you with that same mix of curiosity and mischief, the one that always seemed to get under your skin.

After a beat, she said, quieter this time, “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d show up again.”

You froze for half a second. “What?”

She shrugged, eyes flicking away to the counter. “Nothing. Forget it.”

You stared at her for a moment longer, but she was already opening a pair of chopsticks, pretending to focus on the food.

“Right,” you muttered. “Forgetting it.”

Lynn smiled faintly, knowing you wouldn't.

“So, do you do anything else besides stay here and rot?” You asked, clearing your throat. The apartment looked the same as it did yesterday, too clean to look lived in and too organized to have any personality.

“Excuse you, I'm a very busy woman. I still have schedules to attend to, do you even know how hard it is to do a magazine interview half asleep?” Lynn reacted, pretending to take offense.

“Well since you still have your reputation with you, I assume it wasn't that hard.” You replied.

Lynn let out a short laugh in half disbelief, half amusement before setting her chopsticks down with a soft clack. “You’re saying that like I didn’t just survive three hours of small talk and fake smiles.”

“You’re an actress,” You said, unbothered. “I thought fake smiles were part of the job description.”

She shot you a sharp look, but there wasn’t much bite behind it. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I think I’m right,” you countered, leaning against the counter. “And judging by how you ordered takeout two days in a row, I’m guessing you’re not exactly thrilled to keep performing off-screen either.”

Lynn pouted slightly, the kind of expression she probably didn’t mean to show. “Maybe I just like Rei’s food.”

“Sure,” you said dryly, “and maybe I just love climbing ten floors every time you get hungry.”

She tilted her head, eyes glimmering with something that almost looked playful. “You could’ve said no, you know.”

“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, pulling a chair across from her. “Didn’t feel like arguing with my sister about customer service.”

“Wait, sister? You mean she owns the place? She's—”

“Rei, yes. She's always had a knack for coming up with names that just stick.” You said, still as deadpanned as ever.

“Wow, that must be nice.” Lynn said, softer this time.

You glanced up, you didn't mean to but you caught her smile to herself but the look on her eyes didn't exactly scream happy.

“Yeah, saves me the time of naming things.” 

“No, I meant having a sibling.”

You paused, your hand still resting on the table. The shift in her tone was so sudden, it almost didn’t fit the rhythm of the conversation. You’d been trading jabs just a second ago, light and quick, but now, her words just hung there.

“Oh,” you said finally. “That.”

Lynn poked at her food with her chopsticks, eyes fixed on the takeout container instead of you. “You don’t talk about her much. Back then, I didn’t even know you had family.”

You leaned back slightly, rubbing the back of your neck. “You didn’t exactly ask.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You didn’t seem like the type who’d answer anyway.”

You let out a short breath, not quite a laugh. “Fair.”

Silence settled for a moment, comfortable, if a bit heavy. You could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator, the muted traffic below. Lynn shifted, resting her chin on her hand again.

“So,” She said after a beat, “what’s she like? Your sister.”

You thought about it for a second. “Loud. Bossy. Thinks she’s the smartest person alive.”

Lynn chuckled. “Sounds familiar.”

You gave her a pointed look. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” she teased, “you might’ve picked it up from her.”

You rolled your eyes, but she was grinning now—softly this time, not the usual smug kind. And for a moment, it was almost like the two of you weren’t standing on opposite sides of a line drawn years ago.

Then just as you were about to change the subject, Lynn spoke again, voice quieter. “You’re lucky, though.”

You frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

She looked down, the light from the ceiling catching on the strands of her hair that had fallen loose from her bun. “Having someone like that. Family. Someone who knows you, no matter what happens.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. For once, she wasn’t being difficult or sharp, just honest. Vulnerable in a way you didn’t remember ever seeing from her before.

“…You don’t, huh?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Her lips curved into something between a smile and a sigh. “Not really.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was the kind that said more than either of you wanted to admit. You watched her toy with the edge of her napkin, her eyes distant, and for the first time that night, you wondered if maybe the reason she’d ordered again wasn’t boredom after all.

.

.

.

Once again, you stayed longer than you intended to. You cleaned up after her when she finished eating, just like before. She didn't stop you when you reached for the empty bowls so you just went along with it. 

You threw them in the trash and washed your hands in the sink. Once you were done, you walked out of the kitchen and spotted her on a seat looking through the window at the endless sea of lights below. She balanced her head with a knee she pulled up.

Lynn didn't notice you at first, until you stepped closer. 

You stopped a few feet away, unsure whether to say something or leave quietly. She looked small, almost. Nothing like the loud, sharp-edged version of her you were used to dealing with.

Her eyes were fixed on the city below, blurred neon, headlights drifting like fireflies, thousands of people living thousands of lives she wasn’t part of tonight.

When she finally turned her head, her expression flickered in surprise, then something softer.

“Oh,” she said quietly. “You’re still here.”

You crossed your arms. “I was literally gone for thirty seconds.”

She huffed a tiny laugh through her nose. “Still. I thought you’d… leave faster.”

You raised a brow. “You kicking me out?”

“No.” She dropped her gaze again. “Just thought you would.”

Something tugged in your chest, not dramatic, just a slow pull, like gravity shifting. You stepped closer, leaning your shoulder against the wall near her seat.

“You’re weird tonight,” you said. Not unkindly.

Lynn didn’t look at you this time. “I’m always weird.”

“Not like this.”

She pulled the sleeve of her sweatshirt over her hand, fidgeting with the cuff. “I was just…thinking.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

She elbowed your shin lightly. “Shut up.”

Silence slipped back in, gentler this time. The window reflected the two of you, your tired posture, her curled form, the space between you that didn’t feel as wide as it used to.

After a moment, she spoke again, voice low. “Do you ever feel like the whole world is moving without you?”

You glanced at her. “All the time.”

She nodded slowly, like she’d been expecting that answer. “Feels stupid, though. I have everything people want. A career, money, a nice view from a fancy apartment. But sometimes I just…”

Her voice trailed off, but you understood anyway.

“You feel alone,” you finished for her.

She didn’t argue. Didn’t pretend. Didn't put up her usual armor.

She just whispered, “. . .yeah.”

You exhaled, the softness of it surprising even you. “You could just call someone, you know. I mean, you do have friends, right?” 

Lynn didn't answer, just stayed quiet for a moment longer.

“. . .I do,” she said eventually, though it sounded more like a question than a statement. “They’re just. . .busy. Or I’m busy. Or—” She pressed her lips together, shaking her head. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

You snorted softly. “Everything with you is complicated.”

She shot you a small glare. “You’re not helping.”

“You’re not asking for help.”

That earned you another look, sharper, embarrassed, almost wounded. But she didn’t throw a comeback this time. Instead, she tucked her knees closer, chin resting on them as she looked back out at the city.

“I did call someone,” She said quietly. “Sort of.”

You frowned. “Sort of?”

“Ordering food counts, right?” she said, trying to sound light, joking but her voice cracked at the edges, betraying the truth behind it. “I ordered food after another long day and I didn't think I'd bump into someone I knew.” 

You let out a slow breath, the kind that comes from being caught off guard, not by her words, but by what was hidden underneath them.

“So you’re saying you didn’t actually want dinner,” you said. “You just wanted… someone.”

Lynn made a face, half-grimace, half-pout, as if the honesty physically pained her. “Don’t make it sound pathetic.”

“It’s not pathetic.”

“It sounds pathetic.”

“It sounds human,” you corrected, softer than you meant to.

She hugged her knees a little tighter, turning her face toward the window so you couldn’t see her expression. But her reflection gave her away, the faint, embarrassed twist of her lips, the lingering loneliness in her eyes.

“I didn’t plan it,” she murmured. “I just. . . didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment. Again.”

You swallowed, the heaviness settling somewhere deep.

“Guess that means I'll be back here tomorrow.”

She looked up, “What?” 

“I said, I'll stop by again. With or without dinner, your pick.” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to humor her.

“Really? You'd do that for me?”

“Seems like you need it.” 

Lynn stared at you, like the words didn't make sense at first, like she was trying to figure out if you were joking or just messing with her again.

But your face didn’t shift.

Didn’t pull into a smirk.

Didn’t tease.

And that was what finally made her breath hitch.

Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her sleeves. “You don’t have to,” she said quickly, almost too quickly as if saying it any slower would make it sound desperate.

“What, you saying I can't help a friend?” 

She blinked, caught off guard by the word friend. “I… I didn’t say that.”

“Sure sounded like it,” you replied, leaning back slightly against the wall, arms crossed. “But you’re welcome to change your mind.”

Lynn chuckled, one that mixed in with a scoff. “Guess you're not as bad as I thought.”

Her laugh faded into something softer, barely there, but felt. You watched her shoulders loosen, the tension she carried like armor slowly dropping under the weight of your words.

“…Don’t get used to me saying that,” she added quickly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I still think you’re annoying.”

You smirked. “Yeah? Well, I still think you’re a pain.”

“Good.”

She said it like it was the closest she could get to thank you again.

Silence settled between you, this time not heavy, not sharp, just calm. A small pocket of quiet shared between two people who both pretended they didn’t need it.

Lynn looked out the window once more, but the loneliness from earlier had thinned out, replaced by something gentler. Hopeful, even. Or maybe just less empty.

“So…” she said slowly, still watching the city lights flicker. “If you’re really coming by tomorrow… I could… I don’t know. Order something different.”

You snorted. “That’s your big gesture? Changing your dinner order?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, nudging your leg with her foot. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“That’s you being nice?”

“Do you want me to take it back?”

“No,” you answered immediately, surprising even yourself. “Don’t.”

Lynn blinked at you, then looked away quickly like she’d seen something she wasn’t ready for. “Fine. Then. . .don’t be late.”

You raised a brow. “You gonna miss me?”

She scoffed, but the heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her. “Dream on.”

You chuckled under your breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

You pushed off the wall and headed toward the door, grabbing your helmet from the counter. When you glanced back, she was still sitting there, knees pulled up, gazing at you in a way that was softer than she’d ever admit out loud.

Just as you reached for the handle, her voice stopped you.

“…Hey.”

You paused. “Yeah?”

She didn’t meet your eyes, but her fingers tugged nervously at her sleeve.

“Thank you,” She murmured. “For… staying.”

You didn’t smile, not visibly. But something warm settled in your chest as you nodded once. “Anytime.”

And when the door closed behind you, you were already thinking of the next day and the way her voice had wavered when she said really?

like no one had ever offered to show up for her without being asked.

Like maybe, just maybe, she’d been waiting for someone to.

.

.

.

When you rode back to your sister’s diner, the neon sign hummed to life like a tired old friend, one of the letters sputtering in a rhythm that had become part of the place’s charm. The light spilled onto the wet pavement in a thin, shaky ribbon of pink and blue, painting your clothes and the dented scooter in colors that felt almost cinematic for a split second.

You killed the engine and sat for a beat, letting the cool night press in around you, the city had that late-hour hush now, when everything important had already happened and only small, human things were left, someone locking up a shop, a couple sharing an umbrella, steam curling off a ramen bowl in a doorway.

The bell rang above your head as you pushed the door in. 

“You're later than yesterday, why don't you stay over at her place already?” The voice of your sister greeted you with its usual teasing tone.

“Pipe it down, will you? It's already been a long day just to come back to your voice.” 

“Gosh, what's wrong with me asking where my brother has been? So what happened, did you two make out already?” Rei casually asked.

You snapped your head at her, “What—No! What made you think—What’s wrong with you?” 

Rei didn’t flinch. She just smirked, leaning an elbow on the counter like she’d been waiting all night to pounce on this exact reaction.

“Ohhh, look at that face,” She sang. “You’re defensive. That means something happened.”

“Nothing happened,” you stressed, dropping your helmet on a stool with a clatter.

“Mhm.” Rei continued wiping the same perfectly clean spot on the counter. “So you didn’t kiss. But you didn’t leave early either.”

You froze for half a second, the kind of stillness that gave you away more than any words could.

Rei’s eyes lit up. “Aha. There it is.”

You sighed, dragging a hand down your face. “You’re. . .annoying.”

“And you’re a terrible liar.”

You threw your jacket over the back of a chair and muttered, “I didn’t lie.”

“You didn’t have to. You’re practically screaming ‘I spent time with a girl I pretend to hate but actually care about.’” She waggled her fingers in your direction, mocking mysticism. “It’s very loud.”

You groaned. “Rei, for the love of—look, I just helped her clean up and then I left. That’s it. End of story.”

Rei pursed her lips, unconvinced. “Uh-huh. And why are you smiling like that, then?”

You didn’t realize you were. The corners of your mouth twitched, caught by surprise, a ghost of the warmth you’d had sitting beside Lynn and her quiet confession of loneliness.

You schooled your expression instantly. “I’m not smiling.”

“You are. It’s disgusting. Stop.” Rei flicked a towel at you.

You deflected it weakly. “Shut up.”

She stepped around the counter, stretching her arms. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop. . .for now.” She bumped your shoulder with hers as she passed. “You hungry?”

You shook your head. “Not really.”

“Liar,” She said again, but her voice was gentler this time. “Long day?”

You nodded once.

Rei didn’t press. She didn’t need to. She just walked toward the kitchen, flicking on an extra light as if to chase away whatever heaviness you’d brought in with you.

“Sit,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll make you something light. You look like you could fall over.”

You slid onto the nearest stool, arms resting on the counter, the warmth of the diner settling around you like a blanket that had been waiting exactly for you.

And as Rei clattered around in the kitchen, humming off-key, your mind drifted, annoyingly, predictably back to the girl staring down at the neon city lights, knees tucked to her chest, whispering that she didn’t want you to leave.

You swallowed, pressing your tongue to the inside of your cheek.

Yeah.

You might be in trouble.

Disclaimer:

First time posting a story on here or ever, English is my second language, technically it is third but the second one in terms of which came first.

Props to my friends for beta read my fic to lessen the mistake in there.

Credit to her for giving the fic such a lovely name. It's so good it freaking make sense

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Nmixx manager is a diligent worker, always provide what Nmixx needs. That is you, Y/N we are talking about. All Nmixx known for extrovert aura, but Sullyoon is otherwise, well she did have to blend in with the energy of her group in which she already gotten used to it by now, but her old self still lingers around. With all due respect, other girl is easier to interact with, but Sullyoon is a more on the difficult side. You Y/N, their manager also once a shy timid little boy understood her demeanour clearly, it makes her heart flutter you are able understands her without much communication. The moment when two path crosses its way to conjoined, it all started back in the dressing room where the love spark first ignited in midst of a cold season. Being a caring manager you are, you decided to prepare some set of blankets for the girls. So, you entered the room with the folded blanket.

“Anyone needs a blanket” you voice out to the members. The room was hustling with staff going in and out ensuring the showcase smoothly progressing displaying every group distinct music colour, Nmixx the group you are taking care of was not an exception. You hope for the best award every given to them

“Aniyo (no)” member replied in unison except the one at the far back of the room, Sullyoon. At the corner of your eye, you saw Sullyoon turning around with puppy eyes and slightly protruding her lips looking for you. She assumed you will head out again since the member doesn't need the heated blankets, so she was a little bit let down as she was kind of cold by this frigid atmosphere. “Here you go” astoundment was shown in her eyes staring in appreciation towards you. You didn’t notice her heartful stare as you carry on facing the crowd in the room. “You girls need anything else?”

“You need anything?” Your remarks broke her out of her trance. She shakes her head a bit, eyes fluttering waking up her sense back, “No….… opp- manager-nim” she softly spoke. Red hue on her cheeks can be seen but you sensed it as a fleeting thought because you got a lot to take care of, part-time, siblings college fees and any other breadwinner was tasked for.

“Manager Oppaaa, get me pumpkin spice Americano juseyo and…...” in baby voice, Haewon make a call from the other side of the room. Being their manager for almost two years, you are still amazed by how explosive their energy is, the iconic trio, Kyujin Jiwoo Haewon are unstoppable force, adding Lily and Bae is just a cherry on top.

“Make it three oppa” Kyujin interrupts Haewon while holding her left hands up with the number three. You can sense Haewon glaring her eyes out at Kyujin as you take note of the order on your phone. The so-called twin maknae, Kyujin and Jiwoo always teaming up on their unnie. They even sit next to each other in the room.

You inquire their usual order from the rest of the girls, Lily and Bae. You tilt your head a bit since Sullyoon decline her daily caffeine order. You found it weird especially today with her, as if she's not being her usual self. You clearly notice all the member comfortably call you “Oppa or Manager oppa” beside Sullyoon. Well, it's a given as you regularly call her by her stage name. When you were first introduced to the members, they present themself by their stage name which is their real name but only until later you found out Yoona is her real name. By now it's a habit calling Sullyoon her stage name and looks like it doesn't bother her at all. Little did you know, she does get bother by it, seeing you calling every member by their real name make her heart feel unease.

“The order will be here, see you guys in a bit, got some errands to do, ask manager unnie if you guys need anything, FIGHTING!” with fist clench showing unwavering support to them.

Being the head manager usually handling company, production team and event organizer applications for the group, making sure they are up to date. Most of the time you get it done quickly a week before. Having no pending task, in the meantime you watch the members do their idol work from behind the scenes, assisting manager unnie taking care of the girl’s wellbeing 24/7.

Afternoon and evening schedule are filled with photo shoot, interviews and live broadcast on a music shows. Since it takes place at the Seoul broadcasting station, ending a few schedules at the station with an interview with the media outlet at the front entrance with fans cheering in the background.

Unfortunately, your stomach has been feeling uneasy for the past couple of hours as there's some technical issue earlier at Magazine shooting session making the intended schedule falling behind. You are tapping your feet away waiting behind rows of camera witnessing the girls do their interviews, finishing two to three interviewer question, bidding goodbyes to the fans and walk off to their van. To add salt to injury, the interview also taking a few minutes more than what has been planned, so you must guide the member quickly. That's what your hope for, but fate got better plans for you.

As you lead the group and assist the van’s door. The rest of the girls went on the van, but you saw the back of the Bae’s head covering the incident you never expected to happen. A commotion happens to Sullyoon with a media reporter. The reporter looks like on the last thread of his job and would do anything to keep it, even if he must break the standard moral of conduct. The media reporter was crossing the belt barrier holding onto Sullyoon wrist and bombarded her with questions.

“Mr……please…. stop it” She murmured out her discomfort and wince a bit of pain due to the tight hold. To not cause further the havoc. She grabs her left fist with her right hand to make an attempt to flee the situation. Bae hesitantly come closer to Sullyoon trying to snatch her away from the man. “Mr..…we got other schedule to attend… maybe on the next fan meeting” a chance was taken by Bae but doesn't budge the man’s hold on Sullyoon’s wrist.

“You guys are the reason Jini was kicked out of the group, she never left voluntarily!” The reporter shouted attracting more witnesses to the scene. The girls were startled by the thunderous claim by the man. Jinni issue was settled years ago, even Jinni herself say it herself.

You watched as everyone attention was pointed to them, this matter will only worsen as time goes on, you take big step towards them. Yanking the reporter’s hand off Sullyoon. It takes every ounce of your energy to not put a dent on the reporter’s face. With a lot going in your head from delayed schedule, controversial claim to the sight of frightened Sullyoon really boils your anger.

“Kindly put your hands off the idol Mr, they have fixed schedule needed to follow.” You spoke with teeth clench while trying your best to carve a smile on your face, some even may see your veins pulsing on your temple.

“Yahhh, hands off you basta-” The man was ready to throw hands but reconsider his choice after seeing you seething with anger through a fake smile as it wasn't worth to have broken nose and jaw over his job. He broke off your hold and flee the area. You didn't notice your grip earlier left him to massage his wrist.

“Are you guys, okay?” You gently hold on both of their shoulder checking for any injuries. You quickly ushered them to get into their van. After closing the door, you jog your way to the driver seat and drove off.

--------------------------------------

From time to time, you glance at the rear-view mirror to check on the girls, especially Sullyoon. Being assaulted must be putting a lot of weight on her mental health. You cursed yourself for not doing your job properly, probably you should have stayed close when guiding them, or maybe you should have been more attentive about the group schedule last week, then this wouldn't had happened. Today’s occurrence overwhelmed your mind to the brim.

“Oppa, we have arrived” Haewon tapped your shoulder from the backseat. Haewon’s call break you out of your trance. You look over your shoulder and multiple sets of eyes are directed to you. The corner of your eyes detecting your surroundings, makes you realise that you have driven them to their next schedule location instinctively. They have a schedule at Ajou University for rehearsal for upcoming University Festival consert and you brought them here with your mind going autopilot mode. “Your sick piece of shi-” once again you mouth curse word to your carelessness of not being conscious throughout the drive, it could have led to nightmarish accident. “You guys go ahead; I will catch up” signaling them with the back of your hand to go ahead. They all went out leaving you alone in the van. It was one hell of a week you think to yourself. Taking side quest while having a job to take care others was not the most ideal life choice, but the extra cash was needed.

Being a people pleaser really has took a toll on you, having most trusted friends swindle your money with debt still calling your name like student loan, monthly bills. And on top that regular hospital fees for your ailing little sister, Jiu. You wouldn’t want to complain about family burden but it’s still your responsibility. Well, you always hoped being that very unlucky main character to suddenly be granted with the most beautiful reward like those slices of life comic you used to read. You chuckle at your own ridiculousness.

With you having a laugh at your life stories. Sullyoon look back at the van before entering the tent area for the rehearsal. She can't really see you through the window as it was black tinted. But deep within her heart, she hoped that everything would go your way.

For the past years working together, she somewhat able to relates herself with you as both of you are very good at hiding your pain. Back when you have a fever, you pretended to drink an energy drink, but it was actually coughing syrup. You left her flabbergasted taking the sight of others believing your act.

On the side note, it leaves her a hint of excitement and connection knowing both of you have something in common, but it does not last long as hiding one’s pain also hurts her. Like the intense bruise on her wrist after the incident with the reporter that you missed.

“Yoona-yah, hurry up! We have to go” Jiwoo brings back Sullyoon back to earth seeing her standing far from the pack. “Wait up, I’m coming” Sullyoon take one last glance towards the van but this time from afar both of your gazes met as you step out of the van. Both of you stares into one another. Even though her sensory experience is being occupied by the intense swelling of her bruise, Sullyoon still able to shows you her toothy smile and crescent shape eye. Her smile really captivates you that you almost didn’t notice she’s waving at you lightly with her right hand. You sheepishly wave back with an equal smile but grasp something is off with her overall condition.

A sigh of relief as you see her back to her usually demeanour as that what you assumed, she’s a strong girl given a heavy responsibility to hold such beauty in this thorny world. As she turns back to catch up to her member, you furrowed your brows in confusion catching her conspicuously awkward movement. Seeing her stop mid-way to check on something. Witnessing her grasping onto her left wrist with her other hand before disappearing into the cluster of tents. You may haven’t had a meal for today, but your gut’s instinct was stronger than usual after what you had just witnessed.

You grab available med kit and rush to their tent. Despite not being fond of your overthinking traits, but it mads you think she’s been affected by the earlier incident in some way. You ran through manifold rows of tent from various group and almost missing their designated tent. Once you parted the curtain, at your dismay the members weren’t there. Checking the sign pasted outside maybe you could've gone to the wrong tent. “They already went on stage” You heard a voice beside you, seeing Manager Unnie sitting on a plastic, focused on her phone,

Without much thought, you make a beeline straight to the main stage while slither your way avoiding bystander staff. Then you found yourself by the foot of the stair leading up to the stage, since it was an outdoor concert so there are a lot of deployable stage light rigged on some beam and trusses. From there you saw the members getting ready for rehearsal, doing some stretching and vocal warm-up. Adding humorous element to the scene, Haewon poking Lily by the waist while she trying to do vocal warm-ups.

You scanned through the set while walking up the stage’s side stair and your eyes land on the person you're looking for, Sullyoon. She's doing her stretches while she's entering her pensive mode staring into the horizon. One of her few habits you happen to see quite often throughout the years, she always shies her face away when you caught her pondering her mind for too long. But for today, I don’t think it’s the case.

Since she stands close to the steps, the clanking sound of metal stairs from your footing makes her turn her head around and stumble upon seeing you with a med kit by your side. She was a bit startled by your unexpected presence and the sight of the med kit only making her anxious about what's going to happen next. From your perspective, her demeanour changes from her usual ethereal looking beauty to a timid little girl after she’s been caught red handed.

You motion her to come here before you are rummaging through the med kit searching for an ointment and a bandage and she hesitantly obliged. As she stands in front of you fidgetingly, you signal her to give her left hand. She hesitantly places her hand on top of your right palm. As you gently twist her wrist to see the damage, horror came down to you as the bruise patch was quite sizeable with deep colour. Being a manager, acquiring basic dermatology is essential, your concerned only tripled knowing it’s not what you consider a normal bruise but a severe one. After having a knowledge of her injury, you ruffle your hair in frustration, now you wished you had let your intrusive thought of busted the reporter’s nose to extinguish your wrath.

With wide eye you look up from the bruise to her eyes to make eye contact. As if telling her telepathically how serious the injury is, and she is hiding it, but she avoids the mutual glance and averted her eyesight to the ground waiting anxiously for scolding from you. But you are more obliged to attend her injury as it’s a serious one.

“ Does it hurt?” you whisper softly while maintaining your gaze on her. With both of your hand on her left wrist, positioned both thumbs on the bruise mark, just a mere graze of your thumb on her skin causing her to wince in pain. You felt sympathy for her. It really reminds you when you had to endure endless throbbing sensation for weeks on your right thigh from slipping down small steps and not having a luxury of proper treatment. Since she's under meticulous care of their manager, she doesn't need to experience it.

“This is a lot more serious than I thought, you should head back to the tent for now” you comment while spreading some bruise-healing cream on her injury. Since haven't got any cold agent around, you opt to go for immediate treatment for her and wrapping bandage loosely around her wrist.

“Bae-yahh! Come here” you called Bae to come over and continued to inform that she will accompany her back to tent. Subsequently, the rest of the member also joined in as they heard you called Bae. As expected, everyone went bonkers upon hearing the news about Sullyoon getting hurt by the incident, Jiwoo being the sensitive one might make one confuse who’s the victim as she’s about to shed some tears. Lily on the other hand being the sweetest she is, giving Sullyoon a patting at the back and lean her head onto Lily’s shoulder. Upon seeing the eldest giving affection towards to younger one, the rest of the member also joined the love surrounding Sullyoon, in contrast to you awkwardly trying to hold onto Sullyoon’s wrist as you fully aware of how excruciating having a bruise and severe one at that.

Being an Idol in a country that's known for it makes up the competitive nature so any schedule must move on. Meanwhile, you asked Bae escort Sullyoon back to their tent carefully. You advised Bae to hold Sullyoon arm closely leveled to heart level to scale down swelling rate. Conversely, you picked up their pre-ordered meals for tonight from a nearby diner run by a lovely ahjumma (Aunty). Unintentionally, it was the restaurant you used to visit frequently when around the area. And you remind yourself to also buy Sullyoon a sling and a cooling agent pack.

“That's quite a big order you got there, what's the occasion?” You were a bit jolted overhearing a voice close to you as you were patting your attire for your wallet at the counter to pay. You saw a familiar figure with some partially white hair with back slightly hunch due to old age, the restaurant owner. “It's for my sisters” you sheepishly smile back at her, I guess you could consider the members as your little sister knowing how close you guys’ bond together. You are dumbfounded knowing your mind can clearly vision where exactly you left your wallet but to only forget you left it back at the tent.

“Don't worry, the meals are on the house” the old women uttered makes you feel guilty, exchanging your forgetfulness for a free meal, such an unfair trade. “You boys must work relentlessly these days, let me tell you…. don’t overdo it like my deceased son” those final three words meant a thousand sweat and tears both from the son and his mother. You grow up without much preference of your parents other than countless cut and bruises as a remembrance of them and final memory of news about their car accident.

The only driving force that’s keeping you moving is those who are under your care. Sometimes you can be selfless to keep other in check and not worry about yourself but hearing Ahjumma’s words make you rethink on how you would approach the future. You really should take care of yourself better, ending your life accidentally by your own hands is not something you want to imagine of your loved one crying over your passing.

Your heart ached just from picturing them tears up. Your only little sister, your best friends, naughty ahjussi that helps you out of the rut, Nmixx member, Jiwoo, Kyujin, Haewon, Lily, Bae………. Yoona.

*Lub-dub Lub dub, “How does pronouncing a name can make my heart beating so fast?” you voice out internally and you opened your eyes recalling yourself you are still in the restaurant. Both pair of eyes from the cashier and Ahjumma gave you a confused look. To not make your face even redder, you bid them farewell and pick up the meals. As soon as you walked out, you facepalm yourself replaying the moment that’s just happened.

Driving back to Ajou University was never a difficult task but the lingering feeling both coming from the mind and stomach make it so. You chose to think the discomfort coming from your stomach is because of you haven’t had any proper meals aside from snack bar so you felt relief that it doesn’t have anything to do from those earlier thoughts back at the diner. But your minds are playing tricks on you, “Why am I keep thinking of her?” You shake your head every once in a while, but it doesn’t go. It only replaying memories of her but in different scenario. “Manager-nim where is my blanket?”, “Manager-nim, can you help me open this up? “, “Manager Oppa, how does Yoona look?” Haewon asking you about Sullyoon’s dress.

You are about to go crazy with this ridiculous thought repeating every instance of her with you. Fortunately, your mind has more tricks up its sleeves. Constructing a scene beyond your experience. The mind started its magic, and you can see Sullyoon is skip walking towards you with both her hands placed behind her. You think of moving out of the way, but you feel your body is stuck in place. Neither your legs nor your hands can be move. As she about to close the distance, you closed your eyes preparing for a head on collision. But then, you felt both of your hands were held by a set of soft and delicate finger. You opened your eyes to assess the situation and you were displayed by the closeness of her profile. You were charmed instantly, never ever have you gotten this up-close inspecting her allurement. You were aware of her beauty, but this only makes you to not avert your eyes away from her. As you had fully submit to your mind’s desire thinking this is the climax, but your mind knows what you truly wished for. Sullyoon tenderly squeezed your hands and say your utmost desire “Call me Yoona…………. Y/N Oppa”.

You screamed at the top of your lungs not as a figure of speech but literally, so loud that pedestrians walking by look at your van. Thankfully, with black tinted window and you stopped at the traffic light unconsciously, you once again saved face from embarrassment. To make it worst, your throat went sore and dry, it really starting to sting when you try to make a sound. You stopped by a convenience store to buy some cold packs and a sling as you nearly forgetting the most important matter.

Only couple of turns left, you arrived again at the parking lot of Ajou outdoor theatre. Not forgetting their meals in hand and post purchase item. A huff of exhaustion escapes you as you walked down the familiar path toward Nmixx’s tent. With your mind more focused than before to end the day on a good note, you settled on the improvised schedule in your head as they will have dinner here and end the day off with a radio show.

As you parted the tent’s fabric to enter, you saw the girls already finished their rehearsal and waited. “Meals are here” as you placed it down on the nearby table. “What's it, oppa?” Kyujin being the first scavenging through the plastic.

“It's Bibimbap (White rice topped with diverse toppings)” you answered while looking around where did you place your wallet. You swear you put it on top of the table. Searching around the tent, ducking under the seat, maybe it slips out of the tent, just a mere thought filled your mind with dread. With the enjoyment atmosphere from the members ensued in the background over a homemade meal, you noticed two members were absence. You reckon they went to the washroom.

You headed outside to check if your instinct were true. You spotted Bae and Sullyoon headed your way from a potentially washroom. Bae was holding onto something while leisurely maintaining Sullyoon’s wrist at heart level but what's intrigued you was both were looking at it so intently like solving a puzzle. “Where did you guys go?” You questioned them insensitively with arm crossed and raised eyebrow as you eyed the very familiar item in their hands.

“Oh, Oppa is here” Bae was the first to notice your presence and followed by Sullyoon with a slight stun perceiving your existence. Bae are oblivious on how searing Sullyoon’s wound is while holding onto your lost wallet, you can only let out unenthused snicker. “Oppa, who’s this?” Bae extended her arm out showing the inside of your wallet while being clueless of her intrusion of privacy, casually asking you who is the younger girl in the picture. “Little sister” responding with smirk, your peripherical vision detect a drastic change of Sullyoon expression from a stern look to a beaming smile. Unbeknownst to you, in the depths of her heart was a hopeless and resentful devotion upon seeing the picture in your wallet illustrating a girl figure where you wrapped your arms around her shoulder. Never once in her life being this thrilled upon hearing some news, like Christmas comes early, there’s still possibility of her uttermost wish to be granted.

“Foods is here too” Bae lightly throws the wallet up in the air leaving Sullyoon catching and grasping onto the contraband. Bae’s action spooked you a bit, it was not about seizing the wallet but the moment she lets go of her hold onto Sullyoon’s wrist got your instinct kicked in quickly holding on to her wrist. You stared menacingly in the direction of where Bae’s headed. Observing Sullyoon getting left out by Bae only adding more evident to her selfless personality. You bet Sullyoon tell Bae off to not worry about her to much as you just ordered Bae to keep watched on Sullyoon.

“Manager-nim……. your hand” Sullyoon shyly tug your sleeve to regain your attention, as you regain focused, oblivious that you unintentionally holding her hand after you noticed her response. You swiftly retrieved your wallet from her hand as you commanded her to hold her wrist with her other hand to lessen her injury. Although, this is not the first time she held your hand, it always sends butterfly in her guts. The major size difference between hers and yours coloured her cheeks red acknowledging that fact that it could easily wrap your hands arounds hers easily. The rough and sturdy exterior of your hand cradling her tender and delicate palm only contributed to her sensory overload.

With the minor mishap out of the way, you swung your sling bag around to the front to search for the sling you just bought earlier. “Here, put this on” you hand her the sling, and she hesitates, unsure about wearing it. “Manager-nim……. I don’t think I need this, it’s only a bruise” she mildly protests, unable to keep eye contact with you. You take the sling off her palm and do it your own way. You politely request her to lift her left arm to put the sling on, it was done in an instant. But the one on the receiving end was flushed to oblivion, having your arm nearly wrapping her around, your warm breath tingling her ear as you try to connect the slings end. Your hand slightly brushes her hair sending shiver down her spine. A hint of your perfume mixed with your natural scent initiate a malware in her mind.

You take a step back, appreciating your work. “Look, doesn’t take long at all to wear” feeling a bit proud of yourself, not aware what kind of blushing mess you made Sullyoon as she stared down to the ground hiding her face with her hair flow with the gravity. Worried slowly overcomes you upon seeing her current form, is she, sick? Does she really do not want to wear the sling? You leaned in to properly judge the situation. “Are you sick? your face redder than usually” you mutter to yourself, but you are not the only who heard it considering both of your face are inches away. Like any typical method to determine whether one has a fever, using the back of your hand will do the trick. You gently sweep her fringe aside and place the back of your hand against her forehead. A burning sensation started to take its place into your hand.

“Manager-nim stop it!!!!” Sullyoon let out a shriek of embarrassment with fist clench by her side. You raised your hand in defends from any potential blow. You peek between your fingers taking in a sight of fully flushed Sullyoon with an annoyed expression towards you. “Ehem ahhh G-Go eat up inside, there’s bibimbap ready” you stutter and nod tensely towards the tent inside, avoiding eye contact with her after what just happened. Sullyoon stomped off into the tent leaving you scratching your head in confusion.

Brushing the thought aside, you make your way into the tent. Everyone already munching on their respective bowl of bibimbap. “Oppa, ant chu eaching?” Jiwoo mumbled; her mouth filled with rice. “I will, just have to update the company our current status” you replied to Jiwoo detecting the scene Lily slapping her hand for talking with mouthful out of the corner of your eye as you whipped out your phone. Their sibling dynamic proving they are more than just worker but more like a family. You typed away on your phone all the details to inform about Sullyoon’s injury. “Sullyoon-ah, I need to take picture of your injury for proof” calling out her name without honorific giving her goosebumps essentially pronouncing her full name, Seol Yoona. Luckily, you proceed getting the proof without causing another scene.

“How long does she have to wear it?” Haewon posed a question piqued everyone attention. As soon you submit the report, you turned and faced Haewon before answering. “At most 3 weeks if you casually only applying balm on it, but at short as 1 week if it’s under attentive care like wearing a sling, healthy diet, gentle exercise and avoid re-injury will suffice. “It’s going to be a hassle wearing that around, how the media will react if she wears that in public?” everyone focuses on the one commenting, Manager unnie. Hands on your chin, you reflect on your assistant point of view. “Hmmmmmm” you hummed in contemplation as you walk around the space with everyone anticipating your answers.

 You stopped your track standing in front of Sullyoon. “Sullyoon-shi, does your hand feel pain when you move your arms around” almost in interrogating tone you question her. “A bit but I feel it is more convenience to- Ahhhhh” sharp pain shot through her joint as Kyujin were sitting beside her raising her knee to scratch her ankles inadvertently hitting Sullyoon’s arm. “Oh My God Sullyoon! Unnie, Are you okay! I’m Sorry!” she freaks out getting everyone on their feet. Promptly grabbing the cold pack, you went and place it onto her affected area and proceed to check-up on her. Your observation conclude that her breathing gets heavier, seeming that her body is trying to cope the sudden twist on her swollen wrist. Beads of sweat started forming on her face

Upon seeing Sullyoon condition worsened, you instantly act voicing out your game plan. “I will drop you guys off at the radio station then I will take Sullyoon to the nearby clinic” everyone nods in agreement. The reason for your urgency was because Seoul traffic gets packed during the dusk hour. By looking at Sullyoon’s current state, it’s only matter of time she will lose consciousness from enduring overbearing pain. “I will get the van closer; you guys steadily assist Sullyoon to the van” you tried to sound as calm as possible despite the critical tension to prevent any mishap occur along the way. You are not in this alone, anyone mistake will hold accountable.

You hasten your movement towards the van and with quick manoeuvre you parked it close enough for them catch up. You grimace at a sight of Sullyoon limping with her arm draping over Bae’s shoulder. With everyone buckled up, you put pedal to the metal heading towards the designated location. “Manager-unnie, can you book a VIP health check-ups at a nearby hospital?” With manager unnie doing her part, conversely you pick up steady pace on the road while not forgetting others safety. Suddenly, the situation in front of you caught your breath viewing a massive traffic jam. “Will we make it in time Oppa?” you imagine Haewon sticking her head out behind the sits. You looked closely through the rear mirror, a sigh of relief upon seeing Sullyoon’s breathing pattern has steadied. You saw a glimpse of her eyes slightly opened and nods in assurance at you that she’s doing okay.

“Everything will be under control, believe me” comforting those under you in critical moment what makes you stand out from others. Ironically, you may construct deep attachment easily with this attribute, but you will have a hard time to let go of that person. Going back to the matter at hand, you reroute your path finding alternative for better chance of arriving early as progressing slowly is better than stuck in a never-ending traffic.  Even with the situation toned down, you are still concerned about Sullyoon’s wellbeing and it’s your top priority for now.

Fortunately, with 15 minutes to spare. Everyone disembarks from the van leaving Sullyoon in your custody and splitting our respective path. “See you guys in a bit after I check-up on Sullyoon at the hospital” you bid them farewell through the window and off you went. You take a glance at the rear mirror, you saw Sullyoon soundly asleep like a baby koala latching onto its mother. Seeing her in slumber state only shows how straining the pain is putting onto her mentally and physically.

Upon arriving at Seoul National University Hospital parking space, you looked around you to determine how crowded it is. It’s a given as it’s on national level public service. It wouldn’t be pleasant walking around with an idol by your side. You looked behind your seat, Sullyoon is still sleeping. You felt guilty to wake her up, but you must for the sake of her health. You jumped out from the driver’s seat and slide the door open. The heavy sound of the sliding door woke her up randomly, she looks over her shoulder scratching her eyes.

You proceed to put her cap and mask on to prepare for check-up. You wear your sneaky outfit with a mask and the same black cap on, even though you are only a mere manager, you don’t want to risk of being caught. There’s been multiple occasions of you accidentally inside of Nmixx photos taken by fan, it wouldn’t be surprising if anyone recognize you. The walk to the receptionist was a bit of a hassle as Sullyoon still half-awake from her nap while clutching onto your arm. The reservation registration was done quick with only needing to post your assistant name and trudge to meet up with private medical officer in a consultation room. “Manager-nim, I want to take a nap” you didn’t complain much despite you basically support half of her weight as she essentially leaning onto you with her head rest on your shoulder.

Slowly but surely, you make your way crossing the doorway. “Reservation under Mrs Kim” you state your assistant’s name to the doctor inside for customer identification. You explain her condition to the doctor while she’s still drowsy with her head lean on your shoulder. The doctor instructs you to seat Sullyoon upright in the designated chair. The doctor begins doing his job and start removing Sullyoon’s sling. You were occasionally answering questions thrown out by the doctor as he keeps on his progress. How does she get the bruise? What are the first air treatment that you give her? Did you apply ice pack on it? And you also add that her bruise might be getting worse as there was a small mishap of twisting the joint.

The doctor clarifies more about her bruise severity. The more you understand her condition, the more you treat her with empathy. He highlights the extreme discomfort from the swollen bruise can put heavy stress on the patient’s mind. This justify the reason Sullyoon is drowsy because she’s exhausted put up with the pain. “Manager-nim….”she looks up at you, her lips slightly protruding and her sleepy eyes pleading, as she leans her head against your torso.

“Who is she to you? Your girlfriend?” the doctor asks but shrugged it off. The doctor interrogates you in the meantime he’s spreading arnica gel onto her bruise. You go for simple answer “Idol and manager” as his question got you acting on high alert. You heard light chuckle from the doctor “Don’t worry sir, our customer’s privacy is our priority” as he just finished wrapping up Sullyoon’s arm. You are amused by the doctor sense of humour and were reminded to take medication at the reception.

Luck was in your favoured, you felt grateful things went smoothly as you step into you van with Sullyoon taking the passenger seat beside you. A quick glance at your wristwatch telling you got ample time to even send Sullyoon back dorm before getting the other members back at the radio station. Without wasting a single second, you head straight to their dorm.

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There’s nothing more enjoyable than driving on a road in which the traffic has thinned out. Saving you more time to grab a bite as you are starting to feel the spike poking your abdomen. As you put the van to a halt in front of Nmixx dormitory, you hear Sullyoon’s yawn and stretch wide awake. “Good morning” you jokingly said to her. She understood the assignment and greeted you back with a yawn, in which you find it cute because of how down to earth she’s in spite of how ethereal she can be.

“It’s time to go to bed, I will need to get back to fetch the member” you utter with a giggle seeing her abrupt aegyo refusing your idea to go to sleep. She whines with a subtle pout; you are about to go crazy with her unexpected adorableness. But at her core, she feels the most comfortable around you just right after you earnestly taking care of her.

You disregard all her cute attacks and carry on bringing her belongings. You hoped and wished everything unfolded as intended, well it did but not the way you least expected. With her bags in hand and Sullyoon clinging onto your arm looking up to you in admiration, you aren’t complaining but this really shouldn’t be happening as you stand still waiting for the elevator.

“Sullyoona-yah, can you get the keycard” you are not falling for her doe eyes, but at least she follows your order. You started to think is this what you called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)? You don’t remember reading an article stating being clinging was part of the disorder. You take your shoes off, lead the way to their living room. With your eyes squint to resist her charm, you command her prepare for bed and go to sleep but she got better scheme to do. “Manager-nim, want to have ramyeon with me?” she requests cutely.

“Naah, I must go back at get your other members, okay? Plus, I’m not hung-” a growling sound stops disrupt you. Your eyes went wide averting towards your stomach. To make matter worst, you heard a giggle right behind you and you don’t want a whole week having the members replaying the same stories on how loud your stomach growl after being offer have ramyeon. You can’t be too certain Sullyoon be able to keep her mouth shut, she will possess the best sleep of her life reimagine this moment with you.

At last, you stayed for ramyeon with Sullyoon in the living room. “Dig in manager-nim” you side-eyed her as you scanned for potential hidden trick up her sleeve but instead you examined her to be going back to her usual self. Despite her inviting for ramyeon, you did all the cooking right at the coffee table supposedly since she got one hand on hold by a sling. You grab two set of chopstick and bowls, serving her one and one for your hungry belly.

“Jal meokkesseumnida (I will eat well)” both of you said in unison before dig in your respective bowl of ramyeon. You hummed in satisfaction savouring the tasty goodness of ramyeon. It wouldn’t satisfy your hunger fully, but it will enough for now. You both enjoyed your ramyeon in silent, but Sullyoon was the first to break it. “Manager-nim…. why are you always so nice to me?” you are in the middle of your last slurp, but her question made you stop and look at her baffled. You swallowed the last strain of ramyeon and reply to her answer defensively “What do you mean? I treat everyone equally”. Sullyoon elaborate more by adding more details proving her claim. She revealed that her member telling her that they see you treat her a little bit better and to illustrate her points clearer, even she and her other members agree that you can telepathically understand Sullyoon better than anyone else, as if you read her thoroughly. She even lay out scenarios where you read her like a book, the member say that they must tell you exactly what they want then you will bring it to them, Sullyoon on the other hand just by reading her expression and body gesture you as if able to decipher what she needs.

You were left in awestruck by how detailed her accusation is towards you. Your brain couldn’t be able to construct a legitimate excuse to defend yourself as everything that she said was accurate to you. With the amount of evidence essentially exposing you, you might as well be transparent to her and explain your whole side of the stories.

“Look Sullyoon, with all the evidence you lay out to me, you could say I’m biased, I’m not trying to refute that claim because from your guy’s point of view it looks like I’m favouring you”. You accentuate your word carefully as to avoid misunderstanding. You continue your clarification by expressing that Sullyoon looks the most vulnerable out of all the members. You even suggest that she’s unable to open-up to you for the first 3 months of you being their manager. Of course, it would imply that you must somehow adapt to each member on how they supposed to be treated. You realized that you are going off track a little bit too much about defending yourself as you started to see Sullyoon eyes starting to get watery.

Before anything going too out of hand, you grab and grasp her right hand tenderly with both of your hand and reassure her about your stance that she’s not a burden nor a cause of unfair treatment towards her members. “Actually Yoona-yah. Whenever I see you, you remind me of myself back then, shy and timid. You can be hesitant at times, but I know you are doing your best to keep up with the world. I know how exhausting it is to take every burden on your shoulder alone. That’s why I’ll take extra measure to assist you. Don’t compare yourself with other members, you will have your time to shine. Other member like Haewon, I know she will do well on her own in a long run but you, Yoona-yah you just need a little more time and care to build yourself up so you can be on par with others.”

You are in deep stare into her eye’s orb, the tears stream down her cheek almost went unnoticed. You were startle by her sobbing tears that you hand subconsciously wipe her tears with your thumb. “Don’t cry Yoona-yah, Aigoo you are big baby girl aren’t you” you smirk while wiping the remaining tears of comfort.

Cleaning up the dishes as you go, you are flabbergasted that you had to tuck Sullyoon to bed. “Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” she lightly punches you on the shoulder for treating her like a kid. Well in fact that’s how you view her, a kid who was thrown into society to meet its standard. Well, you once being one of those kids and you don’t want youngsters to suffer the insufferable. Before you turn back, you heard her mutter something. “Do you say something?” you questioned but she only shakes her head. You bid her good night and went straight to the exit.

As the sound of the dorm’s door being locked on the outside, Sullyoon’s heart was racing millions of miles an hour. She whispers to herself something she wished you had heard “Oppa, you paboya (idiot)…………Saranghae (I love you)”.

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You take a deep breath to awaken your senses back. You thought that was a good way to end your day, but you nearly forget about the other members. Your stay with Sullyoon went a bit too late. So, you hoped that you when you arrived at the radio station, they wouldn’t be questioning your delayed arrival. Without wasting any more time, you drive back to the radio station to pick up the girls.

“ Yahhh Oppa, why are you late?” Bae being the first out of the station is asking you sulkily. You pick your own ears to check if it’s still intact due to her loud voice, Bae’s voice being the most obnoxious one neglected the fact that you almost thought she’s the most normal one out of the six member. But you grow to accept her later on. You decided to ignore her completely and open the door for other members as they walk past her.

With everyone on board, you stroll away down under the night sky of Seoul. “Oppa, why did you pick us up so late?” you sigh in defeat as another one asking you the same question, Haewon peaking her head from her seat. But this time, you answer them as it will only make it even more shady if you stayed silent “I had ramyeon before I left Sullyoon before picking you guys up”. Your anxious mind already predicts the subsequent question after you answered, so you gulp your saliva and willingly admit your fate. “Ouh getting TMI (too much information) from oppa, I was expecting you to say the medical check-up was taking too long.” Haewon said, her voice trails with disbelief . Kyujin follow up with an unexpected question  “So you did have ramyeon with Sullyoon?”. The two witty member’s comments had everyone bursting into laughter upon catching you in the act.

Your face went bright red getting fully exposed by the members. You wouldn’t have a calmly ride back to their dorm. You sensed that there’s something going on among the members like a gossip talk among them. You would like to give it more though, but you already fed up with the amount of catastrophe you had to put up today. But your guts unable to detect the fact that there’s a rivalry between who will get your heart, you did not notice Bae being the only one who’s not amused by Kyujin and Haewon act on you as she is saddened by a new revelation about you and Sullyoon.

With everyone going back to their respective resting nest, finally it’s your turn to went back home. Since tomorrow is Nmixx day off, that’s also means your time to compensate lack of sleep on the weekdays. As soon as you step inside your apartment, you waste no time slamming face first into your bed. The bed quickly sucks up your tired body and off to slumber world you go.

The sound of your phone ringing for hours forcing you to wake up. As you squint your eyes to see who’s the caller, it shows on the dialer “Manager-Unnie”. You mutter to yourself “Who the heck would call someone this early”. “Yahhhhh! Y/N -shii, don’t you get my message? Why aren’t you here yet?” and immediately she hungs up the calls. You are puzzled by the unexpected morning scenario, but as soon as you see your phone messenger app was filled with half a thousand unread messages. You are still unaware that one tap of a button to the messenger app would turn your life around completely.

The app was opened, and you still haven’t grasped on what’s going on, you thought maybe just a scammer getting your phone number and spam the heck out of you, you wouldn’t make a deal out of it. You went to Manager-Unnie contact list to check her message. The first message was not a greeting but a news headline link. You starting to feel uncomfortable seeing the link has disturbing wording especially it’s spelling out the group you are taking care of. Adding more horror to you, the picture blurred somewhat showing familiarity about the recent place you have been yesterday.

You tapped on the link, it leads you to Naver News website, as the website starting load its content. Your eyes went wide upon seeing the big red headline saying “NMIXX Male Manager Hurts NMIXX’Fan who’s A Reporter”. Just by reading the main headline, you went to your browser app and see the news feed are filled with your entitled name, “NMIXX Manager” across the screen. You make a call to manager-unnie to analyse the situation. “Palli wah (quick), it would be easier if we discussed this back at the office” She hanged up on you again.

You are frustrated to death waking up into this hell hole, you just want to suffocate yourself with your pillow. Throw you pillow aside, you stared into your ceiling, steadily digesting the uproar you had woken up to. Soon, your breath becoming more stable, and you went to your bathroom to fully wake you up with a splash of cold water shivering your senses to wake. A swig of water cleansing your through, comb your hair to look presentable, donning your jacket and you are ready to face the media allegation.

With van key in hand, you are set to go but you make a quick stop at Ahjussi’s store. “Isn’t today your day off?’ Ahjussi question and pause his daily sweep down the street. “Got an emergency matter to deal with” Ahjussi bid you safe trip before you heading straight to the company.

Cutting to the chase, you are currently running through the company’s corridor making a beeline for the company meeting room. You almost slipped trying to grab a hold of the room door handle. Your stomach immediately sucked in upon everyone arrival making the tension atmosphere tighten. Expressionless and poker face were the only  option for whoever enter this room. All higher up who are under Nmixx management are there too including the members, but you don’t spot Sullyoon anywhere. Maybe she went to the bathroom. You tried to squeeze in to take a seat vacant near the girls and whisper to them about Sullyoon whereabout. “She back at the dorm recovering” manager-unnie respond coldly, not even staring at your way.

You felt like you are missing a memo. Surely, it’s just some misleading article. Just pay the whoever posted the article to take it down, right? Thud! You are jolted by the loud hitting sound at the far side of the room and only having you swallowing your saliva upon acknowledging the presence of the CEO himself. The sound of him flaring his nostrils only making you tremble down to the core and unexpectedly he slides a tablet down the tabletop straight to you. The tablet almost slides off, but you managed to catch it. The CEO recognized how clueless you are upon entering the room, not well informed how serious this issue is.

You tried to be friendly by smiling and nodding at the CEO that you will go ahead look what the tablet screen shows. You saw the familiar headline back at your apartment but as you scrolled more into the article, more dread enveloping your skin. The details of what you missed what got you quivering your legs. You were bewildered by how freaking clever they twist the narrative just from a clip that didn’t do you justice. They only add the part of the clip where grab a hold onto the reporter’s wrist.

That bastard reported makes up stories about how you push the reporter away a bit too harsh. He has the audacity to post his injury on the internet to make him the victim. The video cut making a villain impression of you portraying as a villain, saying unnecessary usage of hard force to push away fans and reporter, even there is a picture of you last night with Sullyoon getting medical check-up and adding description that you hurt the idol and make it seem like you try to silent the idol from voicing out their assault by giving them a treatment. They were never assaulted in the first place, now they put their attack and pinpoint it to you.

You voice out your opinion about this absurdity of the situation it is “Sajang-nim (CEO) this is all just altered stories making me look bad, I have never raised my hand on Nmixx member ever, and I- “. You were cut short as you the CEO interrupts you with a question “How did Sullyoon get hurt initially?” his clasped hand covering his face partially investigating you. You carry on explicate what happened beginning with everything going according to the schedule up until the period where it all happened, after the interview. You said Sullyoon was heading towards the van, but a random reporter grabs her wrist cruelly, so you had to interfere as you saw her getting hurt by the reporter.

You were sceptical, you thought you did great explain yourself to them, but you hear everyone in the room murmuring with each other. “Is that all?” question proposed by the CEO got you feeling agonizing, as he stands up from his seat and make his way to you, you tried to look as confident as possible not being hitched by his demeanour. “I’m opened for any possibility, even I would believe there’s an alien attending the interview yesterday. But…….” The CEO gave his insight on this matter, accumulating to your distress there’s a brief interval before he finished his sentence. “If there’s no evidence, there’s no persuasion” The CEO utter his last word.

You were taken aback by the unexpected turn of event. “Ouh Come on Sajang-nim, you guys just going to believe that bullshit of an article” you sound with clear hearing of everyone in the room. You turn to the members “You girls know me, right? We have been together ever since”, you know it very well that the members know you are innocence but seeing their horrified face only proving how powerless they are even if they spoke out the truth, the media had overpowered the truth once again.

You attempt to seek help from the occupants maybe there’s hope among the darkness “Hey, we can fix this together, we got thi-”. You look back to the sound of opening door, you saw a group of people with a dark blue uniform. One of the guys walk up to you with a handcuff “Mr, you are under arrest for assault. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law” prosecuting you by handcuffing both of your hands.

“Sajang-nim! hey Sajang-nim! what are you doing? Is this some sort of prank? Get off me! I’m not finished talking to the CEO” you squirm left and right unable to come to terms with reality as the policemen drag you out of the company’s building. You are then met with million flashes of camera shutter from dozens of reporters from difference mainstream news agency and plethora of mic shoved in front of you. “Did you hurt Nmixx member?”, “What grudge do you hold onto them?”, “Is it related to Jinni leaving”. Avoidance of camera shutter and mic was the only thing you do up until you step inside at the back seat of a cop car. From that point on, the future looks bleak.

Back at Nmixx dormitory, Sullyoon just woke up from her heart fluttering dream of you. She took it as a sign of good weekend, maybe she could even get you to spend time with her. But soon, her initial thought was replacing with questionable silent atmosphere of their dorm. She wonders where everyone went. Did they go to get grocery? She investigates every room, but no one was there. She went back to the living room and detect the sound of doors opening. She doesn’t suspect anything and saw her members returned from somewhere she isn’t aware off.

As she inspects closer to her member and grasp a situation from what it seems to be the members just arrived from a crime scene. Some have dark spot under their eyes, some have tears spot visible. She inquired about what happened this morning. Upon hearing the news, she thought her aching sharp pain on her wrist is the most painful experienced but that turns out to false after what she just heard from the members. Just a mere thought of not being able to see you again shattered her heart to million pieces. Tears starting to shed to thousands off her eyes. She would gladly trade her arm to be able to see you again.

 She couldn’t had imagined she would wake up into this nightmare. She slams her affected wrist hard into the ground hoping to wake up from this unbearable nightmare but it only making her wheeping in pain and mourn over your disappearance even more. A total horror shot down upon their members faces as they immediately went towards Sullyoon to stop her from hurting herself. They couldn’t stand anymore seeing their loved ones getting hurt after losing you and couldn’t be possible be her next.

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It’s been weeks since the article explode, with Nmixx’s manager arrest and their activity was halted after the controversy. And here you stand in the middle of your cell, staring out into the small opening separating you and the outside world. You would be lying if you couldn’t be any better since your arrest. Honestly, it turns out going a lot better than you expected. No need to deal with early traffic, countless paperwork signage, eyes blinded by paparazzi, and…...even free from controversy.

Life’s great in here but there’s lingering void in your heart that you are longing for, the feeling of loving someone, your little sister and the members that you leaved unintended. They are the only thing that you have left, Jiu; your little sister, Haewon, Kyujin, Jiwoo, Lily, Bae and your dearest Sullyoon. By now, you had truly accept your feelings for her, there’s no faking it anymore. *Bang-Bang-Bang- “Wake up sleepy head……you are free now” You are about to scream with anger when the guards interrupt your daydreaming, but the latter comment got you perplex.

No news, no message, not even a pigeon letter informing you about your released. With your former outfit on, the one clothing before you were dragged to jail. You stand cluelessly outside of the prison gate with no goal in mind. You thought of going back inside with now that you don’t have anywhere to go. On the verge of making the decision, you heard a honking noice. “Hey kid, need a ride?” that one pervy ahjussi from the convenience store is here to fetch you after your discharged.

While you and ahjussi strolled down the highway in his muscle car, you end the silence by inquiring him about your release. Ahjussi simply hand you his phone with an article already opened on the screen. “NMIXX’s Manager Was Never It, It Was The Reporter” you read the title word by word, not repeating the same mistake again like how you act cocky towards the CEO for missing the detail about the whole issue. Just right below the title, a display of a video playing a clip.

The clip basically displays how the incident played out from a different perspective. The video capture from the initial grab of Sullyoon wrist with a clear sign of the reporter pulling her wrist forcefully, up until the second you popped into frame interfering the scene showcasing the need of rough grab onto the reporter’s wrist. “Heheeheh, took them long enough to post the video” you let out a feeble laugh on how ridiculous that you shouldn’t have to serve your time in prison if this video went viral, but your realistic mindset brings you back with optimism. “It must be tough mentally for the user who recorded this to post the video” you mutter to yourself.

On top of that, there’s another clip that catches your attention as the thumbnail used was clearly shows Sullyoon’s face. As you tap onto the video, you’re in for a treat as the seconds progressing through the video. Your heart softens and turns into fragile glass witnessing the content displaying Sullyoon speaking the truth to the media.

 It was clearly shown it was her own initiative knowing the low-quality recording. “Our manager-oppa actually……...he was never the one that was portrayed on the article. Ever since our debut, he always there for us through thick and thin. He can be selfless at times and still got his insecurity about taking care of people, but he is putting his effort at best……...” she proceeded to explain her whole side of the story supposedly being the most affected victim out of this tragedy. Until reaching the moment where you and she went to the hospital to seek medical attention to treat the injury origin from the earlier event. Adding more sorrowful setting in the video, it was self-evident that Sullyoon was stifling her tears wallowing the past for the sake shedding the truth to the world.

For the first time Sullyoon referring you as Oppa was one thing to think about. Her comforting words heals your self-doubting capabilities of managing them was another. The video’s sound cut off suddenly, marking the end of the video. You rub out your eyes to dry out the tears. “Have you got any place to visit?” he probed you for answers. You choose to visit your little sister, Jiu.

Jiu, being one of those people that you are truly cherishes. But unfortunately, she got chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). You aren’t an intellectual in diseases but after reading a few articles of it. You are only saddened by it fully understand how unfortunate Jiu’s condition is. Here is the analogy, normally you’re tired, you take a rest, you got better but for these patients they get tired, they take a rest, and they are still tired. Most hurting part about it, Jiu’s smile will always be carved on her face whenever you visited her.

The journey to the hospital where your sister hospitalised was quiet, with you sitting silently contemplating your current situation. The pervy ahjussi was only a nickname for him from the first impression of him. When you first moved into your current apartment now, as you open the door, the sight of him ducking with a bra attached to his face makes a terror out of you. It was a pain in the arse for him to explain himself, but it got solved soon later. Apparently, he was the landlord wanting to check the water pump to your apartment but still that doesn’t explain the bra part.

Soon after knowing him even more, he doesn’t appear to be of what your first impression thinks of him. Yes, he’s the one been there for you at your lowest, betrayed by your fake friends, the genuine one taking his own way to the after world, news of your sister had to be transferred to another hospital due to the lack of service of the former hospital as your sister illness getting more severe. Everything went downhill for that whole week.

It was raining that day; you embrace the coldness of rainwater soaking you in waiting hypothermia to put a full stop of your life voyage. It all change when the drunk ahjussi throwing tantrum you to drink with him because he needs a drinking buddy. You got more confused at a drunk a person taking walk outside in the rain, being drunk should be enough reason to. Entering a new day, you regret drinking with ahjussi as you got a massive hangover. Both of you went to their respective toilet bowl and a sink to ease up the hangover. Who would have known a middle-aged man acting childish to annoy you would extend your lifeline.

Reminiscing the past got you company for the whole car ride. Upon arriving, you inform the receptionist about your presence before strolling down to her room. You asked ahjussi beforehand to stop by a store to buy some flowers and her favourite snack, tteokbokki.

As you look through the glass door of her room, you spot a figure that’s not matching with any of your possible ideas. Wears a black hoodie with a black cap on. Doesn’t look like a nurse here. You don’t remember having an extra sibling or relative. Is it Jiu’s friends? She never tells you about them, maybe she a got a new one during your time in prison? You set the final thought as the possible answer. But you are opened for any possibilities as you heighten your alertness as there’s couldn’t be possible, she got herself a boyfriends

You slide the door opened, attracting all occupant’s attention to you. As Jiu’s eyes set to you, she waved cheerly to you transitioning your facial expression from serious to friendly. Jiu was informed earlier about your visit by the nurse through Ahjussi contact. You saw the mysterious figure turn his face to see whom Jiu’s waving to, but he quickly turns back. You catch a glimpse of his side profile but can’t construct an image who might this be.

“Who is this Jiu-yah?” you inquire Jiu while you cautiously glance at the unknown man’s face, but the man keeps averting his face from you. “She’s been visiting me while you were serving time” you look at Jiu with question mark planted on your face. “She?’ you wide eyed you sister and emphasized the word pronunciation intricately upon this new disclosure. “Yoona-yah, don’t be shy, this is my brother” Jiu nudge Sullyoon’s shoulder a bit gesturing her to face you properly.

“Anyeonghaseyo manager-nim” Sullyoon lightly bow in courtesy and weakly smiled at you after she pulls down her hoodie. You got millions of questions running in your heads upon seeing Sullyoon visiting your sister

After a solid hour of connecting the dots, finally everyone is on the same page. Clearly during your imprisonment, Sullyoon decided to visit your sister as she feels like it’s a right thing to do. You are not the only one having guilt rotting you alive, Sullyoon also felt the same way towards your sister especially, having your loved one wrongly accuse because one’s unable to do anything in their power to save them. With the help of manager-unnie, she could track where your sister hospitalised.

Ever since then, Sullyoon and Jiu were so in tune together, even if it’s only a couple of visits but every meeting mends her heart as she expressed out to Jiu like you were in front of her. While Nmixx schedule suspended and everyone were so stressed handling the issue, Sullyoon able to find tranquillity in the midst of this controversy by visiting Jiu in her free time. Every time Sullyoon visit your sister, she talks a lot about you, in which you aren’t conscious about. Jiu has a knack for digging through people emotion, mind controlling everyone to spill a little too much information. She kind of have a plan as she heard you are going to visit her at the same time with Sullyoon

“Oppa, what are you going to do now? you’re free” Jiu raise a question to you, unconsciously waking you up from staring a little too much to Sullyoon, hitting you back to reality now that you are yet again starting from zero. Sullyoon look at you with anticipation expecting an answer that align with what she hoped for. “I’m not too sure, probably check on Ahjussi about any job vacancy at his convenience store” you respond naively, earning a jab at your torso from Jiu. “What was that for?” you rub the area of Jiu’s jab quite shock by her random attack. “Just because” Jiu half-heartedly displays her fake smile with a scowling amber seeing your air-headed mindset. “Yoona-yah, you guys got a new manager?” Sullyoon shake head in denial.

In front of Jiu, presented two people who are unaware of their mutual affection. Jiu’s trying to play cupid with you two but the way you react mindlessly to the question earlier, makes her sighing with hopeless. “Alright then, I need to go to the toilet, so I don’t think I need to see you guys off, Is that alright?” Jiu clap her hand indicating you and Sullyoon can leave. She hopes that you guys can work this off on your own.

As the three of you walk out, “Bye guys” Jiu bid off cutely before turning around going the opposite way to the toilet. With both you and Sullyoon left alone, awkward atmosphere ensued. In your head, you amused how drastically energetic Jiu had been, you fully understand her condition as one can’t possibly exert themselves to much or they will be drained easily. Truthfully, having Sullyoon giving her occasional visit is good for her recovery in terms of emotional scale. Sullyoon on the other hand went haywire. She never thought she would see you this early after your imprisonment. Maybe at least she expected you to be freed from the charges but not this early after an anonymous video was uploaded online in which it clear out all of the injustice that had happened.

“Has your wrist fully healed yet?” your sudden question diverts her consciousness back, instantly making eye contact with you. You already know the answer as she’s now not constrained to a sling anymore, but you want to hear her soothing voice reply as it would put you more at ease. “It’s been only a week after I removed my sling, so far I can move my wrist around, even the bruise patch is gone” she showed you her wrist that’s been fully recovered returning her fair white skin.

Soon enough, both of you walk together mindlessly, cherishing each other company but reluctant to initiate a conversation. You look around you, empty and tranquil space of open-air area of the hospital encourage you to engage in a small talk with her. “How’s the members doing back at the dorm?” both of you converse with each other at a gentle pace, enjoying the moment. She calmly replies to you stating that the girls recover far better than expected after the incident. She goes on how the members cope with criticism and pressure from the media, reappearance of false accusation of the members kicking Jinni out of the group. There is some instances where Jiwoo was too scared to even go out of her room, locking herself up and many more countless nights crying, exhausting mentally by the insults and isolating themselves from the outside world. You regain solace again knowing the company doing their job rehabilitate the girls. Unluckily, you didn’t ask how she cope her problem considering she had cried countless night missing you so much.

“……. It was really a rough week, but I really wished someone was there to lend their shoulder when we are at our lowest” Sullyoon’s eyes are on you, she tries to push her luck to gauge your response, hoping it relates to you reuniting with the group again……. reuniting with her. You take a nervous deep breath, pretending to ignore her indirect comment towards you. You would be lying that you wouldn’t want to reconcile with them. In the matter of fact, you want to, you need to, but after listening of what the girls had gone through, you can’t fathom at the assumption of you retaking the position as their manager again without a promise that their safety is guaranteed. You done hurting people like how you have hurt your parent heart for being incompetent. Before you know it, nature had taken their lives before you can ask them for forgiveness.

You were so in dazed with your thought that you didn’t notice Sullyoon stop her track. As you feel an empty space right beside you, you look over your shoulder and see Sullyoon looking at you with a sulk as if she’s saying you are ignoring her. You grin, reliving the image of Sullyoon that you used to love but it’s time to let her go. You walk back to her in gentle pace. And as you stand in front of her, you patted her head and say “Yoona-yah………it’s okay, you can take care of yourself now”.

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5 years after.

“Sullyoon-sunbaenim (senior), how did you guy able to break the 7-year curse? and still maintained as a 6-membered group, and what makes you guys want to renew your contract?” Sullyoon lightly chuckle, seeing her junior getting nudge by her co-partner for asking to many questions in a single sentence. “Well actually, it’s a long story so I hope I can make you guys understand in a brief explanation…….”. She promptly continues her speech act stating the group secret overcoming the curse which is deep understanding to one another. Deep bond comes from extensive communication among the members, they would bicker over little things but communicate through small misunderstanding built into big network of empathy to each other. Additional point, the group made noteworthy changes after the big conflict 5 years ago,  Truly reinforced their capability to strive for the future. She ends her answer with a small bow.

Under the span of 5 years, a lot of unforgettable achievements accomplish by Nmixx. For instance, winning an award as The Song of the Year categories under The Mnet Asian Music Awards (MAMA) on their latest comeback and success continues with reaching new audience at the Billboard Music Awards and was proposed as one in the Top Duo/Group category. Focusing on more individual member, every member had done their solo debut. Presenting each respective member’s distinct colour including Sullyoon. Today marking her first solo comeback attaining her first win on Music Bank Show.

“Sullyoon-shii, after this magazine photoshoot, we will end with a fan sign event” Her private manager informed her for the upcoming schedule. She hummed in respond before he leaves her alone in the dressing room. She takes a quick moment looking at herself in the mirror tracing back of fond memories up until now. Ever since then, Sullyoon developed into more confident and independent women then she is. Her dedicated fan would discover that she’s becoming more charming than ever contrasting from her old wary and shy behaviour.

She got a call from her stone-cold manager “Sullyoon-shii, are you still in the dressing room? We need to move to the photoshoot set”. Sullyoon answer coldly before packing up her purse and finish her last two schedule. However, even if she did turn for the better, she prefers her old self, composed and reserved demeanour. In her member’s eyes, she’s still Sullyoon who opted to stay indoors and play games all day. Her on-stage and off-stage aura was so difference to the point where the members joke about her being another whole new person when she’s on-stage.

After the recovery of the tragedy 5 years ago,  manager-unnie was appointed as the main manager and got them a new assistant to aid her side. The new assistant who is now her temporary private manager is supervising her schedule strictly and professionally. Sullyoon only had one last schedule to go through.  “Huhhhhhhh, when will this end? I just want to go back home and sleep” Sullyoon whined in frustration leaning on her right shoulder on top of the vanity table. With eyes closed, she breath steadily trying to regain her composure after 10 hours schedule with barely any breaks.

As she opens her eyes, she sees her left wrist recalling her past memories. She sorts of wished that there’s more significant trace to preserve her memories of you. The only remembrance she had of you is her unforgettable wrist pain still fresh in her mind till this day. A ringing sound from across the room got her senses heightened, breaking her out of her mental imagery. She stands up slouching to get the phone call from her purse thrown to the opposite side of the room as she enters the room earlier in annoyance of her pack time schedule.

She takes out her phone and see the screen display the dialler’s name “Manager-unnie”. She takes the call calmly “Anyeong, what is it Unnie?”. “Ouh Yoona-yah, there’s some adjustment with manager time shift, it looks like my assistant had to went back to take care of other group itineraries, don’t worry we already got you covered on manager replacement, there will be a new manager on your way to take care of you starting today, Okay”. Before she can respond, manager-unnie hung up on her before she could ask for her new manager’s name. She sighs in disappointment but quickly regain her emotion at a thought of tricking the new manager to skip the last schedule so she can head straight back home early.

A knocking sound of the dressing room’s door can be heard signaling the new manager has arrived, “Wait for a moment” Sullyoon rapidly pack up her belongings to execute her plan. She maybe got a little too carried away of how thrilled this is going to work, taking advantage of newcomer for her own benefit. With her belongings in hand, she scrambles away towards the door. As she’s about to reach the doorknob, the door swings open hitting her in the face.

She lands butt first on the floor, making her flinch in pain “Ouch, can’t you wait outside instead”. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” the familiarity of the voice got her nerves sending shivers throughout her body. She looks up towards the source of the voice, as her eye regaining its focus. You take her hand in yours helping her to stand up. Sullyoon gasped in shocked upon recognizing the figure she misses the most. “Y/N oppa?”.