i like you

You’re sure your eyes widened in surprise and your cheeks definitely went pink, because almost immediately, Wonwoo coughed and added, “You helped me write it so obviously you’d hear it first.” Right. That’s all. He was just offering something in return.

“Oh,” you began. Not sure if the sigh that escaped your lips was relief or disappointment. “Well if you ever need to write another song, you know where to find me. Though maybe I should start charging.” You hoped your tone was as light and playful as you intended it to be.

Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle as he shook his head. Good. “Name your price.” 

Before you could add on, his phone buzzed against the wood of the piano and he reached out to check it. His fingertips flexed as they wrapped around it.

“It’s Mingyu,” he explained. “We have band practice in 20...” He pocketed his phone before turning back to you with an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you around?”

His eyes seemed to twinkle under the fluorescents of the practice room and you felt your heart thud against your chest. He smiled. “See you around.”

Wonwoo left right after that, and you found yourself stuck in the room thinking about his song. Your fingers pressed against some of the keys that you remember him playing, as if looking for a code to see what he was thinking. It felt… electric, to have something, not quite a secret, between the two of you. You couldn’t help but imagine him singing it on stage, no one else knowing that you had wormed your way into the lyrics of his song. 

You found yourself wishing that you could hear him sing your song — the song about yo– the song he wrote that just so happened to include your words and seemed to describe exactly how you were feeling about him – again. Maybe he’d say it was for you.

Maybe he’d say it was how he felt about you too.

Later that night, you found yourself at Seungkwan, Chan, and Hansol’s place, laying on their sofa. You had sent out a text to your group chat, in desperate need of more minds on the case. Seungkwan went out to pick up a pizza and Chan and Hansol stayed behind with you. A knock sounded on the door and Chan stood up to answer the door. You heard him groan immediately as it swung open.

“Why the hell are you here?” Chan spoke. It was immediately obvious from his lack of enthusiasm that he was not speaking to Seungkwan.

You heard Seungkwan’s voice reply easily. “Relax, Chan.” He sighed. “I heard this was a council meeting,” he explained nonchalantly as he walked in with two boxes of pizza and a smug looking Soonyoung behind him. “I saw Soonyoung on my way here and figured he could be helpful.” The two of them smiled and waved as they walked into the living room and set the pizzas down on the coffee table.

“I don’t let strays into my place, Seungkwan,” Chan huffed as he shut the door behind him, letting Soonyoung into his place anyway.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes and you chuckled as he chastised Chan. “Our place,” he corrected. 

“And besides,” Hansol chimed in. “Just last week you pulled over in the parking garage and caused a 15 minute traffic jam because you stopped to pick up a lost cat.”

Chan’s cheeks reddened as he relented. Pouty as he was, he couldn’t really argue with his roommates. Walking over, he lifted your legs as he sat down next to her before letting you rest them in his lap. “You didn’t need to announce it,” he whined as Hansol offered him a slice of pizza.

“Anyway,” Seungkwan chuckled, moving to sit beside Soonyoung against the coffee table and facing the three of you. “We haven’t called a council meeting like this since Chan went through his emo phase.” Seungkwan looked over at Chan as he explained.

“You would have an emo phase,” Soonyoung sneered at Chan.

“You probably had one too, dickhead.” Chan countered.

“Yeah, if you count Justin Bieber as emo,” Soonyoung rolled his eyes.

“Soonyoung…” Seungkwan began softly. “That’s… that’s not any better.” Hansol reached over and patted his shoulder as Soonyoung looked away in embarrassment. Everyone laughed lightheartedly at that, even Soonyoung… eventually.

“Okay,” you began, drawing out the last syllable. “Now that we’ve determined that Chan and Soonyoung are both dorks, we can get to the problem at hand.”

“Hey!” Chan and Soonyoung both shouted in offense. 

You sat up and reached for a slice of pizza before you continued. You weren’t particularly sure of how to approach the subject, but you also knew that after five seconds of silence, Seungkwan would begin prodding at you. Maybe it was like ripping off a bandaid?

“I think Wonwoo likes me.”

The silence was deafening. You weren’t really sure what to expect, but silence from everyone, especially Seungkwan, was not it. Hansol, definitely. Chan, maybe, he sometimes liked to think before he responded. Soonyoung, from what you’d come to know, tended to hold off on offering advice until he heard others’ perspectives. Seungkwan, however, was always one to speak whatever was in his mind, to refine his thoughts aloud.

“Did you all hear me? I said–”

“No, we heard you the first time,” Chan said, still staring at you with wide eyes. “Wonwoo? Like 6’0” lead singer of No Name that looks like he wants to beat my ass every 10 minutes, Wonwoo?”

You nodded back. Looking around the room, everyone seemed to be in a similar state of shock. Hansol was resting his chin on a closed fist and his eyes were full of intrigue. Seungkwan had a brow raised quizzingly, and Soonyoung’s mouth was wide open until something settled in his brain and his lips pressed together in a smirk.

“I totally called it,” Soonyoung beamed. “Didn’t I tell you he was singing right at you that one night?” 

You recalled Soonyoung’s words from the first Halloween party you saw Wonwoo at and you nodded. Wonwoo did seem to have his eye on you that time.

“Nope, no, no,” Chan stood up. Here he goes, you thought to yourself. You sat up as well.“Wonwoo doesn’t sing to people, he just sings and then glares from the stage. He glares at everyone.”

Chan also had a point. You’d known Wonwoo to be exceptionally grouchy, and to make no exceptions for who he glares at. Maybe he was glaring at you for dancing with Soonyoung, who he didn’t seem too fond of.

“What makes you think he likes you?” Seungkwan asked curiously.

“I… He wrote a song about me?” you offered sheepishly as Chan’s eyes somehow got wider.

“He what?” Everyone asked in unison.

“I–” you stammered. “Well he never said it was about me, but he did use my line.”

Chan was pacing around the room now. “What was the line he used?”

“Something about the first coffee shop run in autumn.”

Recognition lit up in his eyes as you mentioned the lyric and he paused his movements. “He also used a line from Joshua in that song,” Chan thought aloud. “And I think he had a line about the drums that Mingyu had said about Seungcheol.”

Oh, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t help but feel… disappointed. Chan’s words were sobering, and you felt yourself shrink. It was true, you had only met him a handful of times. Why would he write about you? Hansol seemed to sense your deflating mood because he leaned over to wrap an arm around you. You smiled at him in return. 

Upon noticing your mood, Chan let out a sigh. He sat back down beside you and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want him to like you,” he began. “It’s just that… well, Wonwoo’s the most emotionally unavailable guy I know. I’ve never so much as heard him say the word ‘happy’ outside of a song. I just don’t want you to build him up in your head just to get hurt by reality.” He looked at you knowingly.

Seungkwan nodded along. “Chan’s right,” he agreed. “Being in love with the idea of someone is as good as handing your heart over to be broken. You shouldn’t have to put yourself through that again.” 

Again.

You remember that night freshman year that you were supposed to go on a date with a guy named Jeonghan.

Jeonghan had come up to where you and Chan were sitting and having lunch out on the quad. It was a breezy spring morning and you recall the way Jeonghan’s hair blew across his face as he approached the two of you with an easy smile. You gave Chan a ‘do you know this guy?’ look as he shook his head no.

“Hey,” he had said to you, pointedly ignoring Chan. 

“Hey…” you answered politely but cautiously as you looked over at Chan. Chan was eyeing him suspiciously.

“I just wanted to let you know how good you look in this light,” he spoke again with a charming smile and his hand extended out for a handshake. “I’m Jeonghan.” You blushed at him and slipped your hand in his as you introduced yourself. Chan’s eyes sharpened into a dangerous glare when Jeonghan twisted your hand in his and brushed his lips against your knuckles. He coughed and finally drew the stranger’s attention to him. 

“I’m Chan,” he said and reached his hand out, knuckles up, to mock Jeonghan.

Jeonghan, unbothered, simply laughed and nodded his head. His eyes fixed into a cold stare that contrasted his smile. “Hey man.” 

Jeonghan reached over for one of the napkins that sat between you and Chan and pulled out of a pen and wrote down his number. “Text me?” And when you nodded, he walked away, back to his group of friends who jovially patted him on the back at his return.

“That guy is an absolute creep,” Chan breathed out, not bothering to wait for him to be completely out of earshot.

“Chan…” you warned. “He seemed nice, and he was kind of cute.” You pulled out your phone.

“He looks like half the guys on this campus,” Chan rolled his eyes as he looked at the number written on your napkin. “Don’t text him.”

“Too late,” you replied, as you hit send on a message.

Once Hansol and Seungkwan found out about it, they were on Chan’s side. 

Jeonghan had asked you out on a date immediately upon seeing your message and that Friday night, Seungkwan and Chan had come over to your dorm. You were in the middle of getting ready, still trying to settle on an outfit and the two of them were sitting on your twin bed watching you with interest. 

Hansol stood by you at your wardrobe, helping you pick and choose tops for your outfit while Seungkwan deeply sighed.

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to not go?” Hansol prodded even as he handed you another piece. You held it against your body to check it in your reflection before shaking your head and handing it back to him.

“Guys,” you pleaded. “I really like him. I don’t see what the issue is.”

You watched Chan scoff and make eye contact with you in the mirror. His bright eyes watching yours carefully. “I can give you a list. Alphabetized even.”

You turned to glare at him. “Bite me, Chan.” Jeonghan had joined you and Chan and Seungkwan for lunch the next afternoon with a fully cooked meal for you and a bouquet of flowers, and you and Chan had been arguing about him since then. Even Seungkwan was skeptical of him and how he seemed to love-bomb you, as he called it, right after meeting you. “It’s nice to be with a guy that’s so direct about how he feels about me.”

“That’s the problem,” Seungkwan spoke up. “Isn’t he a little too interested? The flowers, coming to your classes with breakfast, like that’s nice, but you’ve known him for all of two days. He hasn’t even asked about your major.”

You chewed your lip. You could argue with Chan all day long, but Seungkwan had always been able to get you to see reason, even if you ultimately chose to ignore it. Which you did. There was only 15 minutes left before the time Jeonghan said he’d pick you up, and you decided you were too far in to back out on him now.

“Seungkwan’s right,” Hansol said. “And he’s been a shit texter, hasn’t he?”

“Okay, but not everyone is a good texter,” you argued. You grabbed one last outfit option and walked into the bathroom to change. “Sol, you barely send five words in a single text on a good day.” You walked back out after changing and watched as the three gave you a reluctant thumbs up.

You settled onto your bed and Hansol sat beside you and fussed with the collar of your top. “Shouldn’t that jackass be here soon?” Chan sighed.

“Yeah,” you replied. “He said 7, so five more minutes.”

At 7 p.m., Jeonghan was nowhere to be found.

At 7:15 p.m. he hadn’t answered any of your texts.

At 7:38 p.m. you got a call from Jeonghan. Who butt-dialed you. From the club. With his friends who congratulated him on getting a girl to fall for him in a record-breaking five days.

At 7:45 you were crying into your pillow.

At 8 p.m. Chan said, “A guy who likes you isn’t going to see you as a challenge to be won.”

“Woah woah woah,” Soonyoung chimed in. “How do you know that he’s emotionally unavailable?”

Soonyoung’s voice brought you back to the situation at hand.

You’re not quite sure why you were suddenly feeling defensive. Seungkwan and Chan had only ever looked out for your best interests, especially after that incident with Jeonghan. But when you remember how shy Wonwoo got after he finished playing, and how open he was with you the night before, a part of you desperately wanted them to be wrong.

“Have you met him?” Hansol chuckled. “That man is the definition of ‘if looks could kill.’ He only looks nice when he’s on stage.”

“Well he can’t be all bad if he can write songs that are so… personal” Soonyoung continued to protest. Seungkwan was right to bring him. His presence was refreshing. 

“You somehow manage to be passing psych when you’re an absolute dumbass,” Chan countered. Seungkwan swatted at him and he immediately folded. “Sorry. Instinct. What I meant to say was that Wonwoo holds his cards close to his chest, not necessarily that he doesn’t have feelings.”

“My question still stands,” Soonyoung replied. “How can you write songs like that and be emotionally unavailable?”

Chan looked at him with frustration. “It’s not that hard,” he retorted.

Again, Seungkwan swatted at his arm and shot him a glare. “Show some sympathy, dumbass.”

Chan corrected himself. “I mean I imagine it’s not that hard.”

Soonyoung rolled his eyes before continuing. “No offense dude,” he began as Chan scowled at him. “But you are the biggest loverboy I’ve ever met. It’s pretty obvious which songs you had a hand in writing because they’re so very clearly written by a simp.” 

“First of all, how would you know?” Chan accused. “And second of all… which songs do you think are mine?” he blushed as Soonyoung smirked. He was a lot more perceptive than he let on.

Soonyoung cleared his throat as he began to sing… croak, more like. 

“Oh, show me a map of your soul Every second from now I’m gonna love you completely.”

Soonyoung only stopped when Chan lobbed a pillow at his face, but it didn’t stop him from laughing. That was the song you’d danced with Soonyoung to the first night. 

He was right. 

Chan wrote that song when the four of you were still in high school, around your sophomore year. He was really into one girl… oh, her name slipped your mind now. It was the night of the winter formal and the four of you had spent weeks coming up with the perfect plan for him to confess to her and Chan was more nervous than you’d ever seen him.

“Are you guys sure I have to tell her?” Chan had sweat dripping down his forehead even as you stood on the balcony of the ballroom in the middle of December. He had already pulled his coat off, left only in his white button up and red tie, both of which he’d undone a bit to try to cool himself off.

“Yes!” you and Seungkwan both cried out.

“But what if she hates me after this?”

“Do you know how stupid you sound right now?” Hansol scoffed at him, your breath coming out in puffs in front of you.

“But–”

“No buts, Chan,” Seungkwan chastised. “Just man up and tell her how you feel, she deserves to know.”

“And you both deserve to be happy,” you added. “She’s going to love this.”

Chan, with a nod of determination, reached for his guitar case and shook his fingers out, trying to warm them up. Seungkwan gave you a quick nod and you were thankful to be able to get out of the cold.

You walked back into the ballroom to find the mystery girl already wearing a coat. The dancing was still in full swing and the band that the school had hired was playing some slow jazz standards. Under the glow of the warm lights, you could see your hands regaining color after having to hype your nervous friend up for over 20 minutes in the cold. She smiled when she saw you approach. 

“Headed somewhere?” Hansol had asked her casually.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I couldn’t find Chan, so I thought I’d go out to the balcony for a breather.”

Perfect. You smiled sweetly at her as she raised an eyebrow. She knew something was up, but she was either too nice to say anything, or already knew exactly what Chan was planning. “Oh? I’ll walk you out.”

You and Hansol slipped your arms into hers and you reached for your phone with your other hand, shooting Seungkwan a text, telling him to clear out. He found the three of you just as you reached the french doors. His cheeks were pale with a bright spot of red that stretched across his cheeks and his hair was disheveled from the wind.

“Oh hey,” Seungkwan said casually. He pulled you and Hansol away from the girl as she looked at the two of you with confusion. “Sorry, we just have to, uh, discuss some things. But the balcony’s free.”

“Thanks…” she said skeptically. The three of you watched as she finally walked out of eyesight before Seungkwan grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you upstairs to another balcony. 

“Seungkwan, you suck at bluffing,” you chuckled at him as he rolled his eyes.

Once you were all settled, the three of you headed towards the railing. You could hear Chan’s voice crack as he spoke, “I wrote a song for you.” Seungkwan looked at you curiously as you reached for the tie of your coat and began to wrap it around your phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” Seungkwan whisper-shouted to you. He made no moves to stop you. 

“He’ll want a video of this… and if it blows up in his face, it’ll be great blackmail” you explained matter-of-factly. “Now you two hand me your ties, it’s not long enough.”

With a roll of his eyes, he obeyed and you knotted the two ties together. Hansol chuckled and handed his over without complaint, adding it to the chain. He made sure the phone was secure and hit record before leaning over the balcony to dangle your phone over the edge. The three of you listened in awe as you listened to Chan sing. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard him play the guitar, but it was the first time you’d heard his voice. You didn’t think he had it in him to carry a tune, honestly, but he did surprisingly well. The girl ended up rejecting him, unfortunately, but it didn’t stop Chan from writing songs about whatever girl he fell in love with each month.

Soonyoung’s voice snapped you out of your memories. “Was I right?” he questioned smugly.

Chan blushed and turned away with a huff. “Whatever.”

“See?” Soonyoung raised an eyebrow at you as he continued. “All I’m saying is that maybe that song was about you, and maybe he only knows how to express his feelings through music. I don’t think it’s a reach.” Soonyoung put his hands up in defense as he finished his statement.

“Well look,” Seungkwan conceded. “Soonyoung has a point. Some people are better at expressing themselves in other ways, like some people are acts of service people.” He pointed over at you. “Like how you make sure Chan and Soonyoung always have class notes when they need it.”

He pointed at himself. “Words of affirmation,” he explained. “I like to tell people directly when they mean something to me.” 

Finally at Soonyoung and Hansol. “Quality time.” Soonyoung scoffed as he wondered how Seungkwan read him so easily. Seungkwan focused his attention on Soonyoung as he explained. “You don’t have to hang out with us if you don’t want to, but you’re here.”

“Whatever,” Soonyoung mumbled, but his cheeks turned pink anyway. Soonyoung was perceptive, but Seungkwan could read any person and a situation upside down and backwards.

“Well how does that help me?” you asked. “We can speculate about Wonwoo’s feelings all day long… but I’d like to have a concrete answer.”

Seungkwan’s eyes lit up as he devised a plan.

“Chan, what did you say your psych project was again?”

“To spend time with… oh no,” Chan trailed off as he watched the all too familiar mischievous glint in Seungkwan’s eyes. He sat up straighter. “Kwan, don’t include me in your plans.” “What?” Soonyoung asked. “What are you planning?”

“Well, if you and Wonwoo just so happen to do things together, and Soonyoung and Chan just so happen to be there too,” Seungkwan explained with a smug smile. “Then you can have them keep track of whether or not there are signs that Wonwoo’s actually into you.”

Chan groaned as Soonyoung laughed heartily. “That sounds so fun, actually,” Soonyoung said. Seungkwan returned his grin.

“It really doesn’t,” Chan countered. “Why can’t you and Hansol go?” he asked Seungkwan.

“I’m busy working on my own projects,” Hansol shrugged. He kept a neutral expression as he continued. “Seungkwan has his capstone.” If Hansol and Seungkwan were both on board, so was Chan, however reluctant he may be.

“So it has to be you and Soonyoung,” Seungkwan confirmed to Chan. “Plus you guys will keep each other balanced, since Chan is a skeptic and Soonyoung is a believer. And you guys get a good grade on your project.”

“C’mon, jackass,” Soonyoung rolled his eyes at Chan. “It’s only a few more weeks till the end of the semester.”

Usually, you and Seungkwan were the schemers of the group. One of you would come up with a plan, and the other would be ready to make it happen. This time however, you had a weird feeling. Anticipation? Excitement? You didn’t have time to decide, because soon, all eyes were on you.

“What do you think?” Seungkwan asked. You scanned their faces. Soonyoung and Seungkwan looked at you with excitement. Hansol also seemed interested in this plan. Chan, though he tried to hide it, also raised an eyebrow in interest.

“Ah,” you sighed. “What the hell? Why not?”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo huffed. “It wasn’t a quickie, I was–”

“Oh so you took your time,” Mingyu cut him off with a playful slap to his shoulder. Somehow he felt his face heat up some more. Wasn’t Mingyu drunk? How was he this perceptive? Thankfully, they weren’t too far from Mingyu’s home.

“We were looking for those two other idiots that hang around Chan,” Wonwoo tried to speak up over the sound of his friend’s guffaws.

“I’m just teasing, you grump,” Mingyu finally relented. He waited a beat before continuing. “But that new song of yours was definitely about them right?”

Wonwoo thought for a second before answering, even though he knew Mingyu already knew what he’d say. He simply nodded in response.

“Knew it,” Mingyu spoke again. The teasing lilt in his voice was soon replaced by something softer. “It’s been a while since you’ve written anything new. It felt new.” 

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo asked curiously. He’d always had a particular style when it came to writing songs, and Mingyu had known him long enough to see it become what it was. He didn’t particularly intend to write anything different, he just… wrote as he always did.

Mingyu leaned against the window, thinking to himself. “I’m not really sure myself,” he finally answered after a beat. “It just felt more like you, I guess.” 

The last time Wonwoo wrote a new song was when Joshua was still part of their band. 

Last spring, right as the trees were beginning to turn into various shades of light pinks and pastels, Joshua asked them all to stay after practice to talk. It was an unusual rehearsal from the start, and Joshua seemed nervous much unlike his usual calm and collected self. His dark hair was ever so slightly disheveled and he wore pajama pants instead of his nicer trousers that he usually wore to save time before heading to his office internship after practice.

Joshua clumsily missed notes that he had never missed before, and Wonwoo was more shocked than anyone else to see the founder of their band fumble around like he’d never held a guitar before. So when it came time for them to talk, Wonwoo was intrigued and surprised again when he finally spoke.

“I’m moving,” Joshua blurted out without his usual level of tact.

“You’re–”

“What–”

“Moving–”

Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Wonwoo all spoke at once and Joshua let out a sigh of relief that melted into a soft laugh, as if a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

“Moving? Where?” Wonwoo asked again.

Joshua nodded with a sheepish smile before explaining. “You’ve all met my girlfr— fiance before. We’re both graduating next semester. She got accepted to a music conservatory overseas and my internship offered me a position at their branch in the same city, it just feels like the stars were aligning. It all feels like a sign.” In the many years he’d made music with Joshua, learned his cues and learned his melodies, he saw that Joshua spoke with a twinkle in his eye that Wonwoo had only ever seen when he spoke about his partner.

“I’m sorry to announce I’m leaving the band like this,” Joshua continued. “But I’ll help you find a replacement before I leave. In fact, I already have someone in mind.”

That’s how they found Chan, a friend of Joshua’s fiance who played in the university orchestra with her. They watched his end-of-year recital and sat through his flawless performance of a cello concerto by Saint-Saëns.  It all happened rather quickly after that and without even auditioning, the passionate but impulsive sophomore had become their new bassist.

After going out for a round of drinks at the local pub to celebrate Joshua’s news, Wonwoo found himself outside on the patio, resting his elbows against the railing and thinking about all of this until a voice cut through his thoughts.

“Wonwoo,” Joshua called as he moved to stand beside him. “What’s on your mind?”

He turned around to glance over at his friend. Joshua looked happier now, like he was constantly basking in the glow of something bright, and Wonwoo supposed that in a way, he was. “What does it feel like?” Wonwoo asked vaguely, but Joshua knew what he meant, as he usually did.

“It’s… hard to explain,” Joshua replied with a faraway smile. Wonwoo looked at him and waited for him to continue. “At first, it felt like… well you know, right before a show when we first turn on the amps? There’s a buzz, but it feels electric. It’s a little bit like that, anticipation because you know something good is about to happen.” Wonwoo nodded thoughtfully at Joshua’s response as he continued. “Now it feels so big… like exploring space, if space was safe and warm.” 

After a slight chuckle, a wave of silence washed over the two of them until Joshua spoke again. “Are you going to be okay?” Joshua glanced over at his friend.

“I will be,” Wonwoo answered. “Will you?”

Joshua turned around to face the window and smiled to himself as he watched his fiance laugh at something Mingyu and Seungcheol were saying. “I think so,” he said quietly. “But I’m happy to be here right now.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo agreed. “Me too.”

When Wonwoo came home to his apartment that night, he reached for his guitar. He strummed quietly as he felt the familiar wash of inspiration take over him. A soft melody seemed to untangle itself into something that made sense in his head and soon, lyrics came along with it.

“Take my hand and come with me to another place We can walk around the universe tonight.”

He hoped he understood what Joshua had told him. Love as a concept was simple enough to put into an analogy, but difficult to really get, but for his friend, he’d try. He sent Joshua off later that spring with the lyrics and sheet music folded neatly in an envelope, a gift from Wonwoo to the happy couple and felt satisfied leaving it at that between the two of them. And so it was, until Joshua asked him to play it at his wedding six months later. It was his first time singing a song without the rest of the band, but it didn’t feel as scary as he imagined it to be. It was like having a conversation, or writing a letter to his friend. To Joshua.

He hadn’t written a song since then, not until he met you. Mingyu was right and the realization had heat seeping into his cheeks.

“Something something Halloween party,” Mingyu recalled the lyrics to his song, snapping him out of his thoughts. “That line about living in a VHS was pretty cute, what did you say to them to make you think of that one?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo replied and that was an answer enough on its own.

“Oh Wonwoo,” Mingyu cooed as he ran a hand through his hair and shifted to find a more comfortable way to drift off for the last few minutes of the ride, content to let Wonwoo have a reprieve from the teasing.

After dropping off a drunk Mingyu and driving back to his apartment, he couldn’t decide whether to grab his notebook and pen or his guitar. This was a rather frustrating dilemma to have. Usually, he’d feel something akin to lightning and either a simple line or a melody would come to him and he’d grab whatever vessel he needed to bring it alive. 

The song he wrote about you two weeks ago began as lyrics first. He had watched you walk down the sidewalk in your pumpkin costume and groaned to himself as he realized half of your entire conversation was him saying, “cool.” He walked back into the party and through a sea of stupid costumes to find his guitar case and fished out the worn brown leather notebook that he always kept with him and grabbed a pen.

“I want to erase the things I said, but I’ll probably say them again. Wish I could hit rewind and not be so in my head.”

With a few tweaks and a chorus, it had become a song, and Wonwoo was proud of himself. It wasn’t until after he had finally set his pen down and saw he’d written the words “I wouldn’t have let you go leave me,” that he wondered if he really felt that way or if it was just a good line.

At the next party, when you told him you liked the song, the song he wrote about you, he felt something else, and he wondered what to call the flutter he felt in his chest. Attraction, maybe? He learned about the feeling of attraction in class, how the spike in your heart rate and cortisol levels can be read as attraction in the right circumstances… or stress in the wrong ones. With his adrenaline running high after his performance, he decided that the evidence presented was too inconclusive to be labeled one way or another.

Now, he decided to grab his notebook to look back at the page he’d scribbled on, to see if something could give that final push for lightning to strike. He scoured the margins, looking through the various doodles and squiggles and crossed out words. It was incredibly frustrating, Wonwoo thought, to have the desperate urge to write, but not know what to write. It’s probably because he still couldn’t figure out how he felt about you. Anxiety? Attraction? It was something new, but not something he knew how to explain. All he knew was that he wanted to write about you.

Nothing came to him even after flipping through his book, so with a sigh, he gave up and flopped onto his bed. His eyes fluttered shut and hoped inspiration would find him in his dreams.

The next morning, Wonwoo woke up feeling unrested and uninspired. He was expecting to wake up with that familiar whisper of a new melody or a new lyric in his ear, but instead he woke up to the sound of thunder outside. He ran a frustrated hand down his face. Creative constipation, he thought to himself.

Then as he settled into his seat for his psych class, he found himself so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you call his name. His gaze was fixed on his lyrics notebook in front of him until you reached out and tentatively put your hand on his shoulder. The contact snapped his attention towards you and he felt a haze begin to clear.

“Wonwoo?” The tone in your voice surprised him. It was soft and laced with concern. “You okay? I’ve said your name like three times now.” 

“Yeah,” he shook his head as he muttered quickly. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

He watched as you gave him a kind smile, tilting your head. “I hate to break your concentration, but my usual seat has been… taken over.” He watched as you nodded your head towards the row in front where Soonyoung, who was hunched over his laptop, was completely oblivious to the girl in your seat who was leaning toward him with a hopeful, dazed grin. “We’re picking project partners today and I think she’s trying to get Soonyoung to pick her.”

Wonwoo scoffed at the scene in front of him. “She’s wasting her time. I’ve never seen him pay attention to anything in this class that wasn’t a Fortnite stream.”

“Harsh, but accurate,” you agreed with a chuckle. “So can I…?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” he scrambled to move his backpack off the seat so you could settle into it. He watched you sit down and when you smiled at him he suddenly felt his cheeks heat up. He awkwardly tried to bring his gaze back to his notebook, not knowing what to say, but waiting for you to continue the conversation. 

After a beat, you continued. “So,” you leaned in conspiratorially. “Think she’ll succeed?”

He thought for a second before answering, his lips twitching as he did. “Not unless she pays him in… Robucks.”

“V-Bucks,” you corrected him with a playful grin.

“Right,” he twirled his pen in his hand, as if needing something to fidget with. “That.”

You chuckled in amusement. “Well, if she steals Soonyoung, I’ll settle for Chan. We’ve been project partners since we were little, so I’m used to picking up his slack.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow at you. “And if Chan gets taken?”

You simply shrugged as you smiled at him playfully. “Then I guess I’d be stuck with you.”

His pen slipped out of his fingers and he blinked at you, his glasses sliding down his nose. “Me?” he echoed.

“Yeah, you,” he blushed as you laughed at his surprise. “Unless you’ve already made plans?”

“I don’t know anyone else in class,” he admitted sheepishly. 

“Neither do I,” you replied easily. “Looks like we’re a great match already.”

For a beat, Wonwoo caught himself just staring at you, unsure of what to say. The tips of his ears felt red hot, and he looked down at his notebook again, scribbling in the margins. “Sure, a good match,” he repeated. 

“So what is it that had you thinking so deeply?” you asked as you pulled your laptop out of your bag.

Wonwoo paused for a beat, wondering how to reply. He wasn’t particularly fond of letting people into his writing process. It felt too intimate. Even Mingyu and Seungcheol had only ever looked into his notebook once and then decided it wasn’t worth being on the receiving end of Wonwoo’s death glare (not to be confused with his usual resting neutral glare). For some reason, he felt as though you wouldn’t be too much of a threat to his creative process.

“I have to write about a feeling,” he began tentatively. “But I can’t really figure out what it is.”

“Oh is this for, like, an essay?” You asked. You tapped on your chin as you thought about what to say.

“Yeah, something like that.” “What’s the feeling?” you continued to ask. Wonwoo found himself intrigued at your willingness to help him, but remembered how quickly you relent to offering your notes to Soonyoung and Chan when they miss something. He figured it’s probably second nature for you.

“Honestly, I’m not too sure myself,” Wonwoo answered honestly but still nervous that you’d see through his flimsy details. 

He was aware of how vague his answer was, but this was the closest thing he could tell you without divulging his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure how much of a help you’d actually be. Songwriting, Wonwoo recognized, was not something that everyone could do, but it was something he did well. He had a knack for being able to step into someone else’s shoes and write about their feelings. Like some sort of twisted empath, he could write a damn good love song without ever having been in love. He figured whatever higher being created him thought it would be funny to have such a stoic man only be able to express himself through a melody, like he was in some goddamn musical. 

The other members of his band had a bit of experience writing as well, but their styles were different from Wonwoo’s. They had a special knack for writing songs that sounded like them. Mingyu’s songs were always more upbeat and catchy, good for parties, and a little quirky. Seungcheol’s songs were much more focused on the rhythm and had fewer lyrics. Chan, although only having written a couple of songs so far, definitely had a more angsty, grungy vibe. It was only from Joshua’s leadership that they all learned to blend their styles into something cohesive.

Most people outside of the band assumed that the majority of songs were written by Mingyu or Seungcheol or even Chan now that he was part of it. But surprisingly, Wonwoo was the real lyrical mastermind behind No Name, although he never opts to correct anyone who thinks otherwise.

“Just write it down,” you replied as if it was the most simple answer. “Even if the feeling doesn’t have a name, you’ll get the point across.” When you looked over to see Wonwoo eyeing you skeptically, you continued.

“Not all feelings have a name,” you went on. “Like the feeling when you’re about to turn a door handle into a surprise party you knew about, or like when you get the first cup of hot coffee for the season because it’s finally cold enough outside for it. It’s like you know it’s the start of something new, something good.” 

Wonwoo could see warmth flashing in your eyes as he watched you list these feelings. It reminded him of Joshua’s words that night. Something about anticipation…

There it was. Lightning. His head shot up as you spoke and you turned to him with wide eyes. You watched as he reached for his notebook and began scribbling into it madly. Before you could ask him more about it, the sound of the professor’s voice filled the room. Wonwoo, however, did not lift his head.

“It’s the feeling of the first coffee run in autumn – can you feel it?”

The last part was a question for himself.

Sure enough, today was the day project partners were being assigned and although Wonwoo spent the majority of the class writing madly into his journal, his ears perked up at the announcement.

“Since you’re all adults and there’s over 60 of you in this class, it’s easier for everyone to just partner up with their current desk partner.” Wonwoo turned and met your eyes and you both let out a sigh of relief. He was glad it was you.

He managed to set his pen down as the professor continued to explain the assignment. “This project is about relationships,” he announced as he walked down the aisle to hand papers out to the class. “For the rest of the semester, you’re going to be getting to know your partner and hopefully yourself, quite well. Hopefully, if nothing else, you can leave the class with a new friend.”

The both of you turned your heads at the sound of Chan groaning as he looked over at Soonyoung. Soonyoung  looked wistfully at the girl who stole your seat, finally giving her attention. Unfortunately, she was in a separate desk cluster. Wonwoo was thankful that things worked out the way they did.

Wonwoo watched you stifle a chuckle at the two in front of you and pass him the worksheet. He scanned over the paper. It was mostly blank, save for a few sentences of instructions and two sections of items to note. 

Under the first section were three items: First impressions of your partner? Who do you think you are? How do you think others see you?

The second section simply stated: At the end of this project, reflect on your earlier impressions and see how they’ve changed. What’s changed about how you see your partner? How they see you? How you see yourself? What social theories or effects do you believe may have affected this change?

“You get out of this project what you put into it,” the professor stated. “The more time you spend with your partner, the more change you’ll see in any or all of the criteria. However, if you decide not to spend any time with them after the initial meeting, you still have some theories to write about.” He chuckled to himself as he scanned the students’ faces.

He continued on. “There’s no criteria for how much or how you spend time with your partner outside of being safe and respectful. But I suggest you do things together that mean something to you. Be intentional with the time you spend together.”

Wonwoo’s previous feelings of relief had suddenly dissipated as quickly as they came. This was a rather intimate project, and although the questions seemed simple enough, being in this class for the semester taught him nothing was ever psychologically simple. He snuck a quick glance over at you, busy writing your name on the top of your paper and writing down quick reminders to yourself in the margins of your notebook where you had neatly organized your notes from class. Your cheeks were pink, and so were the tips of your ears. He was sure his were too.

He looked down at his own notebook, filled with nothing that could help him on an exam. But he had half a song written down. 

It wasn’t until the professor had dismissed the class and Wonwoo was setting his things back in his bag that you finally turned up to look at him with your phone out towards him. “Before you head out, can I get your number?” you asked.

“Sure thing,” Wonwoo reached out for your phone, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours in the process. There was that flutter again, but Wonwoo was ready to chalk this one up to stress. Until he caught a glimpse of your tinted cheeks and suddenly he was at a loss once again. He focused back on the phone long enough to put his number in before handing it back to you, letting his fingers brush yours once again. For research purposes, he had said to himself. Results still inconclusive.

That afternoon, Wonwoo sat at his desk with the worksheet in front of him. The first question seemed easy enough to answer. He didn’t need to think too hard before writing a response.

First impressions of your partner: 

He thought back to his first time seeing you in class. Did that even count? All he ever saw was the back of your head and the way you would raise your hands to rub at your temples at the end of class as you slid your notebook for Soonyoung and Chan to take pictures of. He picked up his pen anyway. Begrudgingly kind, he wrote.

The first time he really saw you was that night at the frat party. You were quick to laugh at his jokes, and quicker to add on. And later, he watched as you danced with Soonyoung, who Wonwoo watched get shot down by a girl who was clearly more interested in the girl with her, even in your stupid pumpkin costume that stood out like a sore thumb. There was something about you that drew people in, he realized. Charming, good friend, obnoxious.

He thought about when you finally left that evening to go study. Hard-working, warm.

The next questions were a lot more difficult to answer.

Who do you think you are?

“Annoyed, mostly,” he muttered aloud as he forced himself to try to think. Although he had a knack for writing about other people, he wasn’t a huge fan of introspection. A musician, he wrote simply. I’m good at what I do, and I do what I’m good at. Simple. Blunt. It wasn’t much, but it was enough, he thought.

How do you think others see you?

This was such a dumb question, Wonwoo thought to himself. He never really cared about how other people saw him. Mingyu always said it was one of his charms, especially on stage, and he agreed. His Twitter DMs seemed to agree as well. But a question was a question, and he wasn’t going to hurt his stellar grade over a dumb question. Charismatic, quiet, intense, cold. 

He finally set his pen down and picked up his phone to see a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey Wonwoo, are you free this evening?

Before Wonwoo could feel confused at who the hell would be so bold as to message him like this, you quickly sent a follow up text with your name and Wonwoo scoffed. He was amused. He saved your number before replying to you.

Wonwoo: Sure Wonwoo: Did you want to do something?

He didn’t wait long for a response as you quickly texted him an address and a time. The campus cafe, which thankfully was near his apartment, at 7 p.m. so he still had a few hours before he had to meet you. He pulled out his lyrics notebook and looked back at what he’d written during class. It felt like it was coming together and Wonwoo felt content as he grabbed his acoustic and began to strum absentmindedly, trying to figure out what his words sounded like in a melody. It was something simple, but he was happy with it. Mingyu was right, this song felt like him.

For the first time in a long time, he was writing about himself.

When Wonwoo walked into the cafe promptly at 7 p.m., he let out a soft sigh. The smell of pastries, cinnamon, and coffee wrapped around him like a comforting embrace and he took a moment to appreciate the smells of autumn. He scanned around the cafe and found you sitting at a booth by the window, staring out at the street. Now that October had passed, the jack-o-lanterns and skeletons had been replaced with the warm glow of fairy lights and other various holiday decor. As he walked towards you, he found himself catching his breath at the warm glow the lights left on your skin. Pretty, he thought to himself. When you finally turned your head and caught his eye, you smiled at him with a wave. As pretty as he thought you were looking away from him, it had nothing on the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him. 

“Hey Wonwoo,” you greeted as he finally made it to your table. He unwrapped his scarf from his neck and slipped out from his coat, setting them both neatly beside him on the leather seat of the booth. “I went ahead and ordered a little bit before you got here. Figured you’d look forward to something warm to fight the cold.” You gestured at the cream colored mugs that sat on the table and Wonwoo cautiously inspected the one in front of him. The steam still rose from its contents and the smell of Earl Grey tea made his shoulders relax. He wasn’t a coffee person.

“Thanks,” Wonwoo replied softly. “How’d you uh, how’d you know I prefer tea?”

You blushed as you looked away. “I was a little nervous,” you began, your attention once again on the sights outside. “I texted Chan on the way here and asked what kind of drink you preferred.” 

Wonwoo felt himself blush and was thankful that you weren’t looking directly at him. He scoffed before taking a sip of his tea. Seems like Chan pays attention. “Nervous, huh?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as teasing as it did.

You finally turned your attention back to him. “Yeah,” you chewed your lip. “This is kind of an intimate project. Did you see the questions? It felt like some sort of first date survey.”

He nearly choked on his next sip. You were right, and now that you had pointed it out, Wonwoo couldn’t help but fixate on the idea. A first date, he repeated to himself. He hoped the mug hid his blush.

“We don’t have to think of it that way,” you quickly added. Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your panic. “I mean, not that it would be terrible, but this is for class so I think we can keep it professional and then be friends, which I guess would not really be prof-” 

“You’re rambling,” Wonwoo cut you off. He felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous about all of this, but he also took note of how you said it wouldn’t be terrible for this to be a date. He let out a sigh and set his mug down. “There’s no pressure at all. We can spend as much or as little time together as you’re comfortable with, and how we spend that time doesn’t have to be anything in particular. We could study, talk, or just sit here in silence too, if you wanted.” He hoped of course, that he’d see you more often, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. He knew people saw him as somewhat unapproachable. Even people who scream his name at performances seem to tense up and freeze when they see him on campus. He didn’t want you to be one of them.

To his credit, his words did seem to have an effect on you and he watched your shoulders begin to relax as you reached for your own mug to take a sip. “Thanks,” you began. “Sometimes I get too in my own head. But you’re right. No pressure.”

Glad that you were finally more relaxed, he let a beat of silence sit comfortably between the two of you. When he first met you at that party, you seemed a lot more sure of yourself, not that you seemed unconfident now, but more that you handled interactions with new people in a charming, easy way that he couldn’t. It made him relax knowing he wasn’t the only one who tends to overthink things. He made a mental note to write that down for his assignment later.

It was much easier to just talk after that. Wonwoo felt he had finally redeemed himself after that night where all he could say was “cool.” He was a man of few words… but not that few.

You told Wonwoo about how you’d met Chan, Seungkwan, and Hansol. How Seungkwan had come up to you at recess in elementary school after you had just moved to town and asked about the book you were reading. He was the first to speak to you, and Hansol was the first to drag you along to their adventures. Chan, who was your next door neighbor (and the same age as you), had declared himself your older brother when he found out you didn’t have one. “Everyone should have a big brother,” he had decided at 9 years old.

Wonwoo told you about the band, why it was called No Name in the first place. He and Joshua had started the band in high school with his best friends and kept it going since they somehow ended up at the same university. Mingyu wanted to call themselves The Four-Eyes “because it’s funny. Because you wear glasses.” And when Wonwoo nearly pounced across the table, Seungcheol suggested The Cherry-pops which Wonwoo hated even more. It wasn’t until Joshua broke up the argument and shoved Mingyu back to his seat on the couch that Joshua decided, “If we can’t decide on a name, then we go with No Name.” And that was that.

Wonwoo had found himself smiling at the memory, and chuckled at how long ago that was. Now, somehow, he had become the leader of the band, filling in Joshua’s role as a singer and at times, a mediator.

It was easy to be nostalgic with you, but maybe it was the tea, or the fairy lights that set him up. It wasn’t until both your mugs were halfway empty after a refill that Wonwoo remembered to ask. “So why a cafe?” he asked curiously. 

Your eyes lit up as you began to speak. “Oh, right,” you began. “Remember how we were talking earlier about feelings that don’t have a name and I mentioned the first coffee run in autumn?” Wonwoo nodded. “Well, I finally had some time today, and I thought I’d invite you to join me so you could feel it firsthand.”

Now that it was November, it was well past Wonwoo’s first run to the cafe. In fact, he’d been here at least twice a week since September.

“I know that it’s really late into the season,” you spoke again as if you knew what he was thinking. “And I’ve had plenty of coffee since September. But I’d just been so busy that I hadn’t had a chance to actually sit down inside a cafe and enjoy a cup of coffee.” You smiled as you looked down into your mug.

This is nice, Wonwoo thought to himself. “So what are you feeling?” Wonwoo probed as he recalled your words from earlier. Something new, something good. This was definitely that.

“Like life is about to fall into place.”

Later that evening, Wownoo found himself itching for his phone to text you.

It had only been an hour since the two of you parted ways after he walked you to your car, but he already found himself thinking about when he would see you again. You were easy to talk to but you didn’t mind when he only had a few words to say either. It felt easy. He hadn’t been on many first dates but he knew that none of them had him feeling this way afterwards… Not that this was a first date. Right?

Wonwoo: Hey Wonwoo: Are you free tomorrow? We can meet again if you want.

Tomorrow?  Wonwoo had sent the message before he could think too hard about it. He shoved his phone under his pillow and walked out to the kitchen of his apartment. He grabbed a glass of water and leaned against the island, running a hand down his face. He took a sip and began to pace back and forth.

Like a phone toss when it’s risky but you hit send.

He ran to his desk, momentarily forgetting about the phone, and wrote down the line. And another one. And another one. Until finally, he had a song. He took a deep breath before reaching under his pillow for his phone.

Coffee Addict (psych): I’m not busy :) where do you want to meet?

He thought for a second before an idea popped into his head.

Wonwoo: You know the music studies building? Meet me on the basement floor.

And so the next day he found himself sitting on the floor across from you in a cramped practice room with his hands clasped on his lap. He’s not really sure what had come over him last night after asking you to meet him, but he can’t say he regretted inviting you either. In fact, he woke up bright and early, feeling that flutter again as he thought of seeing you.

“This is cozy,” you joked as you looked around. The room really was cramped, and with a standing piano against one wall of the room, it made it feel even smaller. He wasn’t used to sharing this space with other people, but he didn’t really mind sharing it with you.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry it’s cramped, I know,” he acknowledged. “I just… I wanted to show you something.”

“Oh?” you asked. “What is it?”

Wonwoo looked up at the piano before standing up and offering his hand out to you. A buzz in his fingertips. A flutter in his stomach. He sat down on the piano bench and patted the space beside him to his right. The bench was wide enough to fit both of you, but Wonwoo didn’t miss the feeling of your leg pressed against his. Before he could overthink himself into a panic, he stretched his fingers over the keys and began to play.

“It’s the anticipation when the amps turn on Just cables and crackle. It’s the first flicker of the neon sign It’s the words stuck in your Adam’s apple.”

He glanced over at you before continuing on to the next verse. Your hands fidgeted in your lap, but you watched as his fingers moved across the keys.

“It’s a bumblebee on a blossom The first coffee shop run in autumn.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide as you recognized your own words.

“The song’s about to start, can you hear it? The door’s about to open, can you feel it? The flower’s about to fruit, can you see it? I’m about to fall for you.”

A buzz. A flutter. He knew what this was.

“About to fall for you.”

A/N: a fun fact about this chapter: Chan knows everyone's favorite drinks. It sounds sweet, but he learned it's an easy way to get on their good sides when he's late for practice.

You rolled your eyes. He had a point. And it was far too late for you to find a different costume now. Soonyoung scoffed at your playful bickering. “At least you’re a hot pumpkin,” he joked. You were used to Soonyoung’s flirtatious comments by now, but you never really took them too seriously. He didn’t either. He seemed like he only did it to get a rise out of Chan, who’d come to fill some sort of brotherly role in your life since you were kids.

“Yeah?” Chan spoke with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Glad you think I’m hot.” He and Seungkwan exchanged a laugh as Seungkwan walked to comfort a sulking Soonyoung.

“Not you,” Soonyoung turned away, swatting an arm out at Seungkwan who pat him on the back pitifully. “Ugh I don’t even know why I agreed to come along.”

“Because you needed my notes to pass class, dumbass,” Chan retorted.

Remembering your psych class, you cleared your throat before speaking. “Anyway,” you began. “The point was that we have a psych exam tomorrow and Halloween is still well over a week away.”

Chan mumbled something about the frat wanting to beat all the other frat parties happening and promising free coffee for you tomorrow in exchange for coming out tonight. You rolled your eyes in response. You couldn’t be begged to come, but you could be bribed, apparently.

With that, three pumpkins, a Jim looking for his Pam, and a sexy cowboy made their way to the local frat house. It felt pretty ridiculous really, to see the five of you (especially the pumpkins) all pile into Chan’s beat up Camry on a random Sunday in October. 

The blue and white house that sat at the end of Greek row still seemed relatively untrashed, save for the (decorative?) shopping cart filled with empty cans of beers and seltzers on the front lawn. The party had yet to hit its full swing and you internally groaned at the thought of being here all night. Upon entering, the four of you followed Chan to where his band was beginning to set up. Somehow, they had managed to set up a stage in the cramped first floor of the house. 

Chan’s band, No Name, consisted of him, and three other students from various departments of the school who were all also somehow academic weapons: Mingyu, a rather popular computer engineering major on lead guitar; Seungcheol, a finance major on drums; and Wonwoo, a biomedical engineering major, was their bassist and lead singer. Chan himself played rhythm guitar as well as keyboard, and was a junior in music education.

He started in the band around the end of the spring semester when Joshua, the previous guitarist for the band, and the others came up to him after one of his recitals to invite him into the band. Chan talked about his band members a lot, but this was the first time you were going to meet them in person. 

The rest of the band was already on stage, tuning their instruments and messing with the amps and wires that were scattered around. They looked up at Chan as he hopped onto the platform to join them. Mingyu gave him an excited wave as he played a few test notes on his guitar. Seungcheol gave him an acknowledging nod, before turning his attention back to his drums.

The third member, Wonwoo, looked up and nodded at Chan before glancing at the rest of you. He seemed surprised to see you there because you watched his dark eyes flicker back to you. His gaze was intense, but cautious. You turned your head in confusion until you realized you’d seen him in class before. You hadn’t really spoken to him before, but you gave him a light wave anyway and he returned with the same nod he gave Chan. 

“Hansol,” Mingyu greeted him with a kind of friendliness that reminded you of a puppy. “Jim from the Office?” Hansol gave him a nod, appreciating that he got the reference and gave him a high five in response. Seungcheol was not in costume, but Mingyu and Wonwoo seemed to have a matching motif – Mingyu was wearing all white with a halo headband atop their head, and Wonwoo was in all black with devil horns on his head. Mingyu turned his attention to the rest of you and hopped off the stage to meet you. “Hansol, you’ll have to introduce me to your friends.”

“Right,” Hansol started. He introduced you and Soonyoung to Mingyu and to Seungcheol and Wonwoo who were listening while finishing up. Soonyoung nodded to Wonwoo who looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Hey bro,” Soonyoung greeted. Wonwoo scoffed in return with a shake of his head.

“Not your bro,” he replied curtly. His icy stare and stoic demeanor was not the type you’d expect from the lead singer of a beloved campus band. You’d heard girls and guys in class swooning over him, but to be honest, he wasn’t what you expected. He seemed like the type to want to be far, far away from a party, let alone perform at one.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow at him in amusement. “Sorry about him, he’s not good with strangers,” he said with a laugh, as if this was something that happened often. Icy… but with a bite, it seemed.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes behind his glasses. “This is that idiot who sits in front of me and watches Fortnite streams during class.” Mingyu hummed in recognition as Wonwoo explained. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at Wonwoo’s dry response, earning his gaze.

“He’s right Soonyoung,” you agreed. “You are a bit of an idiot.” Wonwoo’s lips twitched at your agreement.

“And you’re the one who shares notes with the idiot so he passes,” he raised a challenging eyebrow at you. There was a glint in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read.

“Yup,” you affirmed with a grin, meeting his eyes. “His savior, if anything.”

Soonyoung opened his mouth to retort before a voice caught everyone’s attention. Jun, the president of the frat called out to Wonwoo. He was dressed as a minion. “Hey Wonwoo,” he greeted. “Are you guys ready? More people are starting to show up, so I figured I’d ask if you guys were ready to start your set.” Wonwoo nodded and Jun turned to the rest of you. “There’s snacks and drinks in the kitchen.” He leaned over and lowered his voice conspiratorially before adding, “I’d go ahead and dig into the charcuterie before Seokmin gets here and gets a whiff of the prosciutto.”

The group of you moved away from the amps by the stage and towards the kitchen where, sure enough, enough alcohol and snacks for an army were haphazardly layed out. A strum from the guitar and a tap on the mic caught your attention as Wonwoo introduced the band. “Hey everyone, we’re No Name. Enjoy, I guess.” Without any more fanfare, he turned to Seungcheol and nodded as they began their first song, a rather upbeat song about partying. The cheers from the now crowded living area spurred them on. With a fresh drink in your red cup, you made your way back towards the stage to watch the group.

Honestly they were pretty good, and you wondered why it had taken you so long to actually see one of their shows. Mingyu had an upbeat and charismatic aura on stage, constantly bouncing on his feet and even sending an occasional flirty wink to people in the crowd. Seungcheol seemed to get lost in the music and you watched as his eyes shut and he seemed to be in his own world. Even Chan, who looked focused on his instrument, nodded his head along to the music and you could recognize his voice ever so often in a harmony. 

And there was Wonwoo.

 Although he didn’t look it… or particularly sound like it from his cold and short manner of speaking, had a melodic tone to his low voice. He was much different on stage than what you had gleaned from him in the short interaction you had with him. Then, he felt intense and closed off, as if he had already placed himself at an emotional distance from those around him. His stage presence however, was magnetic – the way he leaned into his microphone and would turn to face the band every so often to give cues, he seemed so in command, The way he’d smirk every so often or scan around the audience, it made you want to be the object of his gaze. it was impossible not to stare. 

About last night, I was undone God it feels right, being so wrong And I realized, all the blurry nights are when I feel alive.

You looked around at your friends as you began to dance. Hansol gently bobbed along to the music. Seungkwan stood beside him, taking a sip from his red cup. Soonyoung was talking animatedly to Jun and a guy whose plate was full of cheese and prosciutto – Seokmin, you remember. This was fun, you concluded.

Back on stage, Mingyu hit a high note that caught your attention and the fanfare told you the song was coming to an end. You watched mesmerized as Wonwoo stepped away from the microphone to pluck a string of notes on his bass, head nodding along to the music before returning to the mic and gripping it with both hands. “About last night…” he trailed off and ran his hands through his jet black hair. The rest of the band continued on with the last measures of the song, Mingyu’s fingers flying up and down the neck of his guitar and Seungcheol running through the end of a drum solo. 

You found yourself grinning as you clapped and cheered along with the crowd. After a brief pause, Wonwoo’s bass kicked off the next song and you scurried off to the kitchen to top off your drink and grab a snack. With the light buzz of alcohol in your head, you began to realize you didn’t seem to particularly mind the growing crowd dancing alongside you. Time seemed to pass quickly as you found yourself eagerly waiting for each new song the band played. The energy on stage felt electric and contagious, and you found yourself locked in on one member in particular – Wonwoo.

There was something about how he sang each lyric with a raw rasp in his voice and the way his fingers slid down his fretboard with ease that made him so good to look at. The music they played was fun and upbeat, but when they slowed down for a final song, it surprised you enough to snap you out of your trance as Wonwoo spoke in the mic again, leaning in enough that his lips touched the cold metal.

“It’s our last song of the night,” he began with a sigh, catching his breath from the last song. He grabbed his water bottle that was by his mic stand and took a quick sip before wiping some sweat off his brow and continuing. He set his own bass down and reached for the acoustic guitar that was set between him and Chan. “Let’s chill the fuck out and slow things down. For the last time, we’re No Name.” 

Wonwoo’s voice came out over a smooth melody on the keyboard. As people began to gather in pairs or move away from the dance floor, you found yourself close to the stage once again. Wonwoo seemed to catch your eye as he continued to sing and strum gently. His voice had a gentle vibrato to it and it was mesmerizing.

It wasn’t till you felt a tap on your shoulder and you saw Wonwoo’s eyes flicker to a figure beside you that you turned to see Soonyoung offering his hand out to you. “Wanna dance?” he asked casually. You shrugged as you slipped your hands around the back of his neck. His hands awkwardly found your waist, squishing your pumpkin costume in the middle so you looked a little bit more like a squash instead.

“What happened to Jun and Seokmin?” you asked Soonyoung curiously.

“Ditched them so I could dance with you,” he shrugged.

 You had hung out with him a couple of times outside of class, mostly to study, but Soonyoung never seemed very interested in you past being a study buddy turned friend. You raised your eyebrow at him skeptically.

“I tried to ask another girl to dance,” he admitted with a sad chuckle. “But she was definitely more interested in other girls than she was in me,” Soonyoung chuckled quietly. “Plus you looked kinda silly, a giant pumpkin standing by itself in front of the stage.” You turned around, eyes wide, to realize that you were in fact the only person who was on the dance floor alone. Hansol had gone off to the kitchen to find Seokmin and Seungkwan was somewhere outside playing a drinking game. Soonyoung must have noticed your embarrassment because he was quick to continue speaking. 

“Don’t worry,” Soonyoung continued. “I too would be transfixed if it seemed like a hot singer was singing right at me.” You felt yourself blush at his comment. 

“Shut up Soonyoung,” you chastised. “Or else I’ll tell Wonwoo you think he’s hot.” “Game respects game,” Soonyoung chuckled with a shake of his head and leaned in to speak near your ear. You could hear the smirk in his voice. “Don’t believe me?” You shook your head no in response. “His eyes haven’t left you since we started dancing.”

Sure enough, Wonwoo was still watching the pair of you as you gently swayed to the melody. The song came to a close soon after and Soonyoung jokingly twirled you away from him before whispering “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

You found yourself stunned as he walked away and turned back to the stage just in time to see Wonwoo set his guitar in its case before hopping down in front of you. Without his guitar slung in front of him, you could see his outfit better. He wore a black turtleneck that clung nicely to his toned chest and arms and black slacks. Wire framed glasses sat on his face and from here you could tell how thick the lenses were. The only Halloween-y part of his outfit were the devil horns that sat on his head… which he promptly removed. Even with his hair disheveled and the glow of sweat on his skin, he looked good. He ran his hands through his dark hair and took a sip of his water, not once breaking eye contact with you. It felt a little intense, really, and even more so when you realized you couldn’t read anything from his gaze.

“You guys are really good,” you offered with a smile that you hoped didn’t come off too eager, afraid to scare him off. “I really liked that last song.”

The corner of his lip twitched upwards in a flicker that you might have missed if you weren’t studying his face so closely. It felt satisfying, in a way, and almost like a challenge. How could you get a full smile? His quiet “Thanks,” lingered in the air between the two of you. Was he this reserved around everyone else, or was there something about you that made him feel as nervous as you did? 

“You’re in my psych class, right?” Did he already forget or was he just looking for a way to continue the conversation? You played along, wondering if his cold demeanor was just hiding a nervous guy.

“Yeah I am,” you confirmed, recalling the conversation from earlier. “I sit next to the idiot.” Wonwoo’s lips turned upwards in amusement as he processed your reference and he nodded.

“Cool,” he said simply. He didn’t say anything else, but he made no move to leave either, so you tried your best to continue the conversation.

“When–”

“We–” 

Wonwoo finally let out an amused scoff. You figured that’s the closest you’d get to a genuine laugh, and it was enough to put your nerves at ease for the time being. “Go ahead,” you said.

“We’re playing at another party here in two weeks if you want to come,” he said cooly, but the way his fingers fidgeted around the plastic water bottle as if it was the neck of his guitar made you think he might be thinking about this conversation as hard as you. 

“Sure, I–” you paused as you thought about the date. “Wouldn’t that be November already?”

A scoff escaped his lips again. “Yeah, some stupid shit about a post-Halloween soiree leading into no-nut-November. A gig is a gig, I guess.” He sounded less than amused about the theme of the party but shrugged it off.

You laughed at the stupidity of it all. “Sure, yeah, I’ll try to come by.” 

You smiled at him. He smiled back at you, well, smirked more like. “Cool,” was all he said.

A buzz from your wrist caught your attention, reminding you that it was nearing 1 a.m. and that you had told yourself to go home to study for your exam. You looked back up at Wonwoo apologetically. “Sorry,” you began. “I have to get home, I want to study before tomorrow.”

Wonwoo hummed in acknowledgement and you wondered when he found time to study for his own classes. He nodded towards the door, offering to walk you out. He didn’t really say much until you were both at the front porch of the house, with the cool autumn breeze seeping through the felt of your costume. “I’ll see you around?” he asked.

You nodded in response. “See you around.”

“Cool,” he said again. You moved to begin walking home but turned back with a smile and a two finger salute when you heard him say “Nice costume, by the way.” You had a feeling he wasn’t going to say that to Seungkwan or Chan.

Sure enough, the next time you saw Wonwoo was after your psychology exam the next morning. 

You had woken up at your desk after falling asleep studying with only 20 minutes until class began. With no other options, you quickly brushed your teeth and washed your face but ran out of your apartment without bothering to change out of your pajamas.  

Last night after coming home from the party, you found it difficult to focus on your notes. All you could think about was Wonwoo and his piercing stare. You’d definitely seen his eyes before, but being the subject of their gaze was something else entirely. You recalled the feeling in the pit of your stomach the first time he looked at you. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed with a text from Hansol stating that he made it home safely that you snapped out of your daze enough to begin studying. 

You arrived just in time for the test to begin, but too late to sit in your usual seat by Chan and Soonyoung. Panting, as you slid into the first available seat, you grumbled at the way you could feel your pajama pants awkwardly riding up your calves and the slight glimmer of sweat that seemed to now layer over your forehead. You’ve definitely seen better days.

Even now, in the middle of the exam, a question about the misattributed signs of attraction had you thinking back to Wonwoo. Talk about real life applications. Elevated heartbeat, shortness of breath… it definitely wasn’t stress or fear that had you feeling that way around him. You let out a sigh as you circled the letter C.

When the exam was finally over, you met the two of them outside of the classroom.

“No, you idiot,” Soonyoung argued. “You’re thinking of the halo effect, the answer was the reciprocal liking effect.” They were in the middle of arguing about what the correct answer on a part of the exam was and you watched Chan scramble to pull his messy notebook out of his backpack to find it in his notes. Before you could interrupt and correct them, a low voice beat you to it.

“It’s the mere exposure effect, you dumbasses,” You turned around with a chuckle, turning to see Wonwoo, standing a little too close, right behind you. You could smell the cologne he wore, something that must be out of your price range. He wore a crisp white t-shirt and black sweatpants and you felt slightly embarrassed at your own pajama pants-hoodie-bedhead combo.

“Huh?” Chan asked as he tried to skim through his notes. “But isn’t that–”

“Mere exposure suggests that the more times we encounter someone or something, the more we tend to like it,” you explained. Wonwoo nodded in agreement. Something about getting his validation made your heart skip a beat.

“Looks like the studying paid off,” he commented, turning to face you with the faintest hint of a smirk. Was he teasing you?

“Sure did,” you replied with confidence, though you found yourself blushing under his gaze.

“Take a nap,” Wonwoo suggested, looking you up and down. “You look like shit.” His deadpan tone almost made you miss the mischievous glint behind his eyes. You turned to him with a sharp eye before you realized that was his attempt at witty banter. Instead of a scowl, you rolled your eyes instead.

“What every person wants to hear at 9 in the morning,” you shot back. “I’ll nap after this one buys me a coffee.” You gestured to Chan who had now turned back to Soonyoung to argue about a different question. Wonwoo scoffed as he watched the two bicker before turning to the voice that called his name from behind. It was Mingyu and Seungcheol.

“See you around,” he said before heading in their direction. You watched as Mingyu clapped a hand on his back and Seungcheol offer him some of his pack of Oreos as they retreated down the hallway. What an interesting friend group, you thought to yourself.

You didn’t see Wonwoo much after that day. Or Chan for that matter. 

For the next few classes, Chan and Wonwoo left rather promptly to have band practice in preparation for their early November gig. So those days, you found yourself walking to the library with Soonyoung.

“I haven’t seen Chan have to go to practice this often since the summer,” you had remarked to him as you walked. The party was tomorrow night, and Chan and Wonwoo skipped class altogether for rehearsal so you promised to send Chan your notes.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung agreed as he brushed a fallen leaf off the top of his hair, ruffling it in the process. “But apparently they have a new song on their setlist, so I guess that’s why.”

“A new song,” you echoed, half listening. Your mind wandered back to the image of Wonwoo on stage, the way he played, how he held onto the microphone. It must be some song if they’re practicing so hard. If he wrote a song would it be as complex and enigmatic as he seemed to be? Or would it be something completely unlike him?

“You’re doing it again,” Soonyoung’s teasing tone cut you out of your thoughts. He snapped a finger in front of your face. “You’ve been spacing out a lot lately. It was cute at first, but now it’s concerning.”

You groaned at his accusation. “I’m not spacing out,” you huffed.

“Right…” He grinned mischievously. “So who is it? Tell me so I can give you my stamp of approval.”

Something flipped in your stomach as you rolled your eyes at your friend. “Focus on your own love life, Soonyoung. Anyway, you said Chan told you about it?”

He raised a teasing eyebrow before raising his hands in defense, allowing you to change the subject. “Yeah, he did,” he confirmed. “And what about it?”

You were surprised to learn that Soonyoung had a conversation with Chan past arguing over class notes, and you noted the shade of red that dusted the tops of his ears when he saw you look at him inquisitively. “Nothing,” you replied coyly. “Just glad to see you guys are friends now.” Soonyoung rolled his eyes and you shoved him playfully. He shook his head with a soft laugh.

“I guess if I have to see him every day, we might as well be friends,” Soonyoung admitted. “Mere exposure effect or whatever.”

“Aw, you are learning, Soonyoung.” 

The next evening you found yourself at yet another frat house in front of another stage. At least this time you weren’t in a pumpkin costume, but rather in an actual outfit that you felt good about (One that wasn’t picked out by any of your friends).

You managed to arrive in time to catch the band setting up, wanting to offer help, but not really knowing how. Instead you sat on the couch beside a bored looking Hansol as he fiddled with the cup in his hands. 

“Most people don’t show up to parties until they’re actually parties,” Hansol sighed as he rested his chin in his hands. You watched as Chan fiddled with the tuning pegs of his guitar in front of Wonwoo who played him his pitches on the keyboard. You chuckled in agreement. There really wasn’t much going on quite yet as the party had yet to truly begin.

“We could have come by later in the evening,” you replied.

“Nah,” Hansol countered. “I’m bored, but I’d rather be bored here with you and the band than bored alone at home. Plus this way everyone knows I’m ‘with the band’ or whatever. Keeps weirdos away from my cousin.” As if to prove his point, he sent a glare towards the poor girl who walked up and offered Seungcheol a water bottle. He had a point. He at least had a loose reason to be here early, but did you?

You could say that Hansol dragged you here with him, but he didn’t really. You weren’t really “with the band” either. You looked back over at the stage and caught Wonwoo’s eye. He gave you a single wave. You’d leveled up from last week’s curt nod, you realized with a soft chuckle. You continued to watch as he returned his attention to his microphone stand. Maybe, you thought, it was reason enough that you liked seeing the band set up.

By the time No Name got to the middle of their set, you were having a great time dancing with Hansol who was more than buzzed. You also felt a little tipsy, but you were nowhere near Hansol’s level. One of you had to be sober enough to care for the other. Wonwoo cleared his throat into the mic before speaking. “This is a new song. Happy Halloween and no-nut-November.” Although his face remained passive, you could tell now that Wonwoo was poking fun at the drunk frat boys that were scattered about and cheering loudly.

Hansol leaned over to you as a keyboard melody began to play. “Chan said you’d probably like this one,” He slurred into your ear. You winced at the volume of his voice and the smell of beer. He’d regret this in the morning.

I wish that you and I lived in The Sims We could build a house and plant some flowers and have kids But we’re both at some trashy Halloween party downtown

Wonwoo let his bass hang around his neck as he wrapped both of his hands around his microphone and leaned in close, as if his proximity to the microphone could fill the room with a sense of intimacy.

I wish that we lived on a VHS I'd erase the things I said and that I'll probably say again Hit rewind on all the times I got lost in my head

Hansol was right, and you were pleased to know that your many years of knowing Chan paid off in him knowing your taste in music. You wondered if he had any influence in writing it and you made a mental note to ask him about it some other time. It was a different vibe than some of the songs the band played last time you saw them, but the crowd seemed to enjoy it and so did you.

The rest of the set was filled with songs that were familiar to you – songs you heard at the last show, and songs that you’d heard Chan practice when you came to visit him, Seungkwan, and Hansol at their apartment. Same as last time, the set closed with a slower song, but with no real interest in slow dancing with each other, you and Hansol stumbled out to the backyard instead, opting for some fresh air. In the moonlight, you could see the red glow that rose in his cheeks, a side effect of the alcohol. Knowing him, he was on the verge of falling asleep and you were thankful that Chan would be finished with his set soon and could deal with him instead. Seungkwan had cleverly avoided going to this party, leaving you and to care for their roommate instead. As much as you loved your friend, Hansol became a deadweight when he was drunk, as if all his muscles became laced with actual iron. 

As if on cue, the final strum of the song rang out and soon after, Chan plopped down between you and a sleeping Hansol. He scoffed at the sight, laughing at Hansol’s soft snores. He pulled out his phone to take a photo of him in his peaceful state and you laughed softly.

“You know he’ll kill you tomorrow morning once he sees that,” you warned him. Chan chuckled and shook his head as he reached under Hansol’s back to pull him into a more comfortable sitting position and he murmured a quiet thank you. It was hard to believe that in any other square inch of this party there were frat boys throwing up on the grass when a scene as soft and gentle was playing out right in front of you.

“Eh,” Chan shrugged carefully, assessing his friend’s state. “I think I can take a hungover Hansol.” He smiled as he patted him on the crown of his head before looking back towards you. “Did you drink tonight?” Chan asked curiously.

You nodded and reached your hand up to feel how warm your cheeks had gotten from the alcohol. “Not nearly as much as Sol,” you answered.

“Do you have a ride?” Chan asked, concern lacing his voice. “I didn’t drive today.”

“I was just planning on walking back,” you shrugged your shoulders. Chan’s brows furrowed together in thought.

“If Seungkwan’s around, you should ask him to walk with you,” Chan suggested. “Or I guess that tiger-wannabe dumbass. He’s fine, I guess.” You laughed at Chan’s mention of Soonyoung.

“I didn’t even know they came,” you admitted.

“They showed up kinda late,” Chan explained. “I saw them show up towards the end of the set.” You hummed in response.

“I’ll keep an eye out then,” you promised as you turned away. “You sure you don’t need my help?” You glanced at Hansol who was now starting to tip to the side as Chan shook his head and waved you away.

“Text me when you get home!”

Back inside the house, the sounds of the band had been replaced with someone’s playlist blasting over the speakers. After doing a lap around the house, your two other friends were nowhere to be found. You knew you were hitting the end of your own social battery as you approached the kitchen in search for a water bottle to take with you before heading out. Although you didn’t drink as much as Hansol did, the warmth in your throat reminded you that it would be a smart idea to start hydrating. You immediately headed for the cooler that was propped on the counter and dug through the ice and cans of beer until you found what you needed. You wiped your hand against the fabric of your top, trying to regain feeling in your cold fingers before you heard a familiar voice call your name.

“Wonwoo,” you smiled at him in greeting. Today he wore a simple gray sweater with black jeans, and you wondered if he owned anything colorful in his closet. “You guys killed it today.”

Wonwoo’s eyes lit up ever so slightly at the compliment. “Thanks,” he began, and you wondered if that’s all he’d say. “We practiced a lot.”

“And it paid off,” you agreed, opening your water to take a sip. “I really liked that new song.”

You noted how Wonwoo’s mouth twitched into a small smile. “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded enthusiastically. “It’s right up my alley, and I liked the lyrics too.”

That answer seemed to please Wonwoo who turned his head to hide a gentle blush that crept up his cheeks before clearing his throat to change the subject. “Not drinking tonight?” Wonwoo nodded at the water bottle in your hands.

“I drank plenty,” you chuckled. “It’s for my walk home.”

“You’re walking home?” Wonwoo repeated. “Where’s Chan?”

“Chan?” you echoed as Wonwoo nodded. “He’s dealing with a drunk sleeping Hansol. I told him I'd go with Seungkwan or Soonyoung, but I can’t seem to find either of them.”

Wonwoo hummed as you explained. A beat of silence fell between the two of you as he looked around, lost in his own thoughts. “I’ll help you find them,” he offered with a quieter voice before nodding towards the stairs. For a moment, you hesitated and wondered why he was offering at all. Wonwoo didn’t seem like the type to go out of his way to help someone who was effectively still a stranger. Maybe he wasn’t as cold and distant as he tried to make himself out to be.

You followed close behind him struggling to shove your way through the crowd until you realized Wonwoo had stretched his hand behind him to grab hold of your wrist. “Stay close,” he called to you. You wished you could read the stoic expression that remained fixed on his gaze, but everything about him seemed so… calculated, down to the way his fingers lightly brushed against your wrist as he guided you through the crowd. 

Honestly, It was a pleasant surprise that he had offered to help you at all. Half of you expected him to just reply with a simple “cool,” as what seemed to be his default response, and be done with it. Instead, he was dragging you up the stairs and shoving people out of the way on your behalf. You blushed as you realized what this might look like to the random onlooker. The two of you must have looked like any other couple at a frat party, headed upstairs to do something unsavory.

Before you could relish the idea any longer, Wonwoo dropped your hand as he found a clearing by the railing at the upstairs landing where there was a decent view of the party going on downstairs. “It’s easier to find someone when you have a bird’s-eye view,” he explained as his eyes scanned over the sea of partygoers.

You turned your attention to where he was looking before spotting Seungkwan’s blonde hair and Soonyoung’s silvery white hair, both unmistakable from your point of view. “There they are,” you noted excitedly. Wonwoo scoffed in amusement at how a simple observation got you so excited. “It looks like Seungkwan’s… occupied,” you chuckled to yourself. Seungkwan in the middle of belting out a Whitney Houston song by a karaoke machine. You decided you’d best not bother him and sighed in relief when you saw Soonyoung was just chatting idly with Jun near the door. 

Wonwoo walked with you back down the stairs until you found Soonyoung, who smiled and greeted you with a hug. “Hey, stranger.” He turned to Wonwoo with a polite, but distant wave. “Hey b-” he cleared his throat, correcting himself. “Hey Wonwoo.”

A scoff escaped Wonwoo’s lips as they formed into a smirk. “Hey, Hochi-Mochi.” Soonyoung’s face immediately fell into a frown. 

“Only my mom– how do you even know about that?” Soonyoung ran a hand down his face as Jun laughed beside him.

“You leave your brightness all the way up when you text your mom from your laptop in class,” Wonwoo explained with a casual shrug, much to Soonyoung’s dismay. “And you have the default font size of a billboard ad.” 

Jun put a hand on Soonyoung’s shoulder and shook his head in laughter. “I’m gonna go ahead, Hochi-Mochi. See you around.” He waved goodbye at the three of you before disappearing into the crowd.

“Et tu, Brute?” Soonyoung grumbled as he watched you laugh along. “On that note, I think I’m gonna go too,”

Wonwoo watched your hand as it flew up to grab Soonyoung’s elbow as he turned away. “Wait,” you sighed as your laughter died down. “I was gonna ask if you could walk me home, since Chan and Seungkwan are otherwise occupied.”

Soonyoung’s eyebrow shot up as his eyes moved between your hand that tugged at his sleeve and the steely dark eyes that seemed to be intensely watching his next move. He paused for a second before finally answering you. His face had slipped into an expression that you couldn’t quite read. “I don’t mind but–”

“I’m Mingyu’s designated driver, and he lives like a half hour away,” Wonwoo seemed to answer Soonyoung’s question before it even came out. Would he have offered otherwise? you thought to yourself. You turned your gaze to Wonwoo, still unreadable as ever, and wondered why he answered so quickly.

“I see,” Soonyoung replied skeptically before turning to you with a shrug. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

You nodded to Soonyoung and the three of you walked towards the door where Wonwoo hung back and leaned against the door frame as you moved past him. You weren’t sure if you were on hugging terms with Wonwoo yet (or if he even had hugging terms for that matter), so you opted to give him a wave instead.

“See you around?” you smiled at Wonwoo warmly, hoping to mask the rush of nervousness that seemed to flood through you every time you were the subject of his gaze. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer and for a brief second, they softened, in a way that seemed to melt away his icy exterior that you’d thought was unbreakable. 

“See you around,” was all he said, but the three words seemed to carry more weight – a promise that something was beginning. This time, there was no mistaking it.