cola oppar

“fake-date, y/n. fake,” he clarifies.

you snort. “you really need to grow up. fake-dating someone to make someone else jealous is such a middle-school thing to do.”

“i’m not–” nicholas frantically shakes his head. “what? i’m not trying to make anyone jealous! i just really don’t want to bother my parents’ questions tomorrow. and i’m afraid my mom might try to set me up with a random girl if i don’t show up with anyone in the next two months.”

“with my functioning ears, i’m telling you that sounds like a you problem,” you say with a raised eyebrow. nicholas opens his mouth to counter, but you’re faster. “just tell them you’re not into girls,” you suggest, breaking out in laughter as the expression on his face turns from irritation to bewilderment.

“you’re actually the worst best friend ever,” nicholas mumbles after a while of just staring at you in disbelief. he crosses his arms in front of his chest and slowly sinks deeper into the sofa cushions, and honestly, the way he’s pursing his lips in a small pout, almost breaks you. but the idea of dating nicholas, even just for show, makes your throat tight and your palms sweaty. 

you don’t have much time to think about it, however, as nicholas’s head suddenly whips in your direction, his eyes squinted in a way you know all too well. 

“don’t look at me like that, you look stupid,” you try to joke, while in reality, you pray he didn’t develop superpowers to hear your heartbeat quickening ridiculously much.

“i got it,” he says, the earlier pout on his lips now replaced by a sly grin. “either you help me, or i’ll ask yuma what you talked to him about.”

that does it. your eyes widen, and either it looks so ridiculous that nicholas has to laugh, or he’s just super proud of having come up with something that finally seems to work (it’s probably a mix of both).

“are you blackmailing me?” your question is supposed to sound funny, but if you’re honest to yourself, it comes out more scared than anything else. 

“as my best friend, you’re not even supposed to keep secrets from me. besides that, i don’t get what’s there that you can tell yuma but not me,” he replies. and he’s not trying to sound anyhow bothered by the fact that you confined in someone else. scratch that, he isn’t affected by that. it’s just weird. because he knows everything about you, even the most embarrassing things. in fact, he was there when most of them happened. 

you open your mouth, but you don’t say anything. maybe because you’re afraid that it might turn out to be the truth, or maybe – probably – because if the roles were reversed, you’d feel equally irritated, or whatever it is that nicholas can’t hide from his face, although he seems like he’s trying. 

so you give in with nothing but a murmured ‘fine’.

nicholas’s eyebrows shoot up, as if he’s actually surprised that you agree. for a moment, he looks at you, waiting for you to change your mind. but when you don’t, he smiles brightly. 

“you’re the best!”

you furrow your brows. “not even five minutes ago, i was the worst.”

“whatever,” nicholas dismisses with a wave of his hand. “you should wear that one yellow sundress, it looks cute on you,” he says, already half-immersed in whatever he’s seeing on his phone.

and there it is. the little thud of your heart, so deep you can feel it in your stomach, whenever nicholas says something so casually as if it didn’t turn your world upside down for a moment. 

“don’t call me cute again or i’ll throw up,” you say. and honestly, you’re not even lying.

nicholas rolls his eyes, though he doesn’t look up from his phone. “it makes your collarbones stand out nicely, and it goes well with your hair.”

“my collarbones?” you ask, clearly taken aback. this time, it’s nicholas’s heart that does the little thud. he looks up from his phone, only to catch you looking at him with a face he, for once, cannot decipher. “you’re looking at my collarbones?”

“i–...yes? i told you you should get your ears checked.”

“you should get your eyes checked!” you defend. “why are you looking at my collarbones?”

“hey, i pay attention when it comes to fashion,” he says casually, though deep down he’s wondering if it’s odd to notice those things, let alone point them out like it’s nothing.

“weirdo.”

if someone were to tell you that one day, you’d be driving back to your hometown with your best friend turned college roommate, just to fake-date him in front of his parents, whom you’ve known since practically forever, you’d laugh at them. but as nicholas pulls into the driveway, nothing feels funny. 

“isn’t it gonna be weird?” you ask when he turns off the engine. 

nicholas shrugs. “only if you make it weird.”

“great, thanks. no pressure at all,” you mumble in an annoyed tone.

“y/n, it’s gonna be fine. you know them. they know you, more importantly,” nicholas reassures, but you sigh.

“as your best friend, not your girlfriend.”

“same thing, basically,” he shrugs, “act like you always do. just maybe a bit more… i don’t know. affectionate. maybe don’t call me an asshole.”

“you are an asshole.”

nicholas rolls his eyes. “and you’re the reason we’re gonna be late. don’t overthink it, okay? they won’t even ask questions.”

before you can argue, he steps out of the car, waits for you to do the same, and walks toward the front door. 

“we should hold hands,” he suggests after ringing the bell.

“did you even wash yours? because i swear, i saw you scratching your ass earlier, and if you–”

when the door swings open, you don’t know if it’s that which caused the words to get stuck in your throat or if it’s the sudden warmth of nicholas’s hand around yours. he gently intertwines his fingers with yours, greeting his mom with a big smile.

at first, his parents are surprised. nicholas shakes his head when you whisper-shout at him if he didn’t inform them beforehand, which earns him a painful squish of his hand from you. he announces that he actually brought you as his girlfriend this time, and his mom goes on a ramble about how she was sure for years. but at some point, her words sound muffled, your focus almost fully on the way nicholas’s hand feels against yours, and how, for some reason, they seem to fit perfectly into each other.

you don’t even really register how you take off your shoes by the doorway and make it to the kitchen. the only thing you know is that nicholas’s hand rests against your waist, guiding you as if you haven’t been to his house so many times you couldn’t count on both hands, even if you used them twice. 

“so, how long have you two been dating?” his mother’s question snaps you out of your trance.

“two months.” – “about three weeks.” you both say in unison.

“we uh…had our two-month anniversary three weeks ago. so, three months. practically,” nicholas stammers. 

he reaches for his napkin on the table to awkwardly fidget with the piece of paper. and for a reason unknown to yourself, you think it’s a good idea to place your hand on top of his and gently curl your fingers around it to stop his movement. 

nicholas’s hand twitches, almost as if he wants to pull back – and, for god’s sake, he wishes he could. because why on earth does your skin feel so damn soft against his, and why does it make his palms even sweatier than they were before?

he quickly glances over to you, your eyes straight ahead, and your lips curled up in a smile that looks more like a grimace than anything else. swallowing, he slowly starts to rub his thumb over your knuckles as if that could calm your nerves. but in reality, it only makes your heart beat so fast it might as well jump right out of your chest. 

it feels like an eternity, but slowly, the two of you grow more comfortable in your roles. nicholas continues to breathe, even when you reach out to wipe sauce from the corner of his mouth, and you finally stop feeling like throwing up whenever he rests his hand on your thigh. by the time you say goodbye, it feels almost good to wear the jacket he offers you, although the car is just eight and a half steps away.

a few days after the more or less disastrous dinner with nicholas’s parents, the two of you are lounging on the sofa, watching some show on the tv that neither of you really pays attention to. he’s typing away on a long overdue assignment while you just doomscroll through every possible app, mostly to focus on anything that’s not nicholas (you swear, you can even hear him breathing from across the sofa at this point).

you’d like to say that by now, things have gone back to normal between the two of you. because technically, they kind of have, but then again, not really. because yes, you’re back to your normal routine. but no, it does not feel normal. now, nicholas does not reach for your hand – that’s self-evident. and you’re happy about that, because that means your heart isn’t running a marathon. but you also kind of want him to do it again. just to prove that the reason for your short-circuit back at his parents’ place was nerves and had nothing to do with him, of course. 

you don’t have much time to overthink it, however, because the loud ringtone of nicholas’s phone on the coffee table startles you so much it feels like you’re kicked back to the moment.

nicholas is quick to shove his laptop off his thighs and reach for his phone, probably damn thankful he’s got an excuse to take a break. but he’s not even halfway through saying hi when he’s interrupted.

“is y/n with you?” you make out maki’s voice on the other end of the line. nicholas looks at you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“yeah, why? let me know if you’re gonna say something gross, so i’ll step out,” nicholas says, amusement lacing his words. now, you raise an eyebrow as if that alone could remind him of how he made you hold his hand in front of his parents' door, and of how you still don’t know if he had washed it before or not. 

“no, actually put me on speaker,” maki instructs, only continuing once nicholas signals he has done so.

“you two are so fake,” he says dramatically, “first, you come back home for a day without saying a single word about it, and now you're also dating?”

your eyes shoot from the phone back to nicholas, only to find him mirroring your shocked expression entirely.

“what do you mea–” he begins, but maki cuts him off.

“i ran into your mom in the supermarket and she asked me how long we’ve known you’re together. i can’t believe you finally–”

nicholas’s almost hysterical cough cuts off the rest of maki’s sentence.

“sorry,” he says, voice strained so strangely that it sounds almost fake, “choked on my saliva.”

if it weren’t for the situation, you’d probably laugh or shoot him a mock-disgusted glare, but with maki complaining on the other end of the line, you just give nicholas a blank stare. you try to think fast – try to come up with something you could say to explain the, objectively speaking, very simple truth behind everything. but your brain feels like it’s running twenty tabs in fucking internet explorer, half of them frozen, and none of them letting you close the window. 

“... you two better get your asses back here next weekend and explain. it’s been almost three months and not even euijoo knew a thing.”

that brings back your attention.

“euijoo?” you ask, swallowing slowly, “did you… did you talk to the others, too?”

“hell no!” maki fires back, and although he sounds offended, his answer lifts the little weight in your chest. “that’s your job.” 

with that, he hangs up before either of you has time to respond. once the line goes silent, the living room does so too. you both stare at each other, faces blank, and while nicholas looks paler than usual, you can feel your face heating up. neither of you speaks for a while, until you both open your mouths.

“we’re telling them the truth,” you say.

“please, let’s just lie to them, too,” nicholas says at the same time. 

“no!” both your voices echo through the living room again.

nicholas rubs a hand over his face, and you can hear him groaning, the sound somewhere between annoyance and despair. 

“this is stupid,” he mumbles against his hand. 

“the whole idea was stupid, nicholas. i’ said that before, just for the record,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

nicholas sighs, and brings his fingers up to dramatically massage his temples. “you’re not being helpful, y/n.”

“helpful would have been to never agree to that in the first place,” you grumble.

he slumps against the sofa cushions. “my mom’s gonna find out.” the words come a little quieter this time, almost sulky.

“she would eventually,” you say matter-of-factly, ignoring the way he glances at you from the corner of his eye. “or did you plan on lying to her forever?”

“hey, i’m committed,” he says, though it doesn’t sound half as funny as he intended.

“yeah, i’m committed too. to the mental institution, if you keep up with your nonsense,” you deadpan.

 “please?” he turns to properly face you now, lips pursed in a small pout that you’d love to smack off his face. because how does just that turn even his usually so sharp eyes soft?

“nicholas, our whole friend group thinks we’re together,” you whine once you forced your eyes away from his lips.

“that was kinda the point of fake-dating you.”

you furrow your brows. “the point was to get your mom off your back, not for our friends to think the same. it’s much better to tell them the truth right away.”

nicholas opens his mouth to oppose, but you’re quicker.

“just tell them to shut up if they ever randomly run into your parents again.”

“but i know they can’t lie if their lives depended on it,” he opposes in this sulky, whiny tone that makes you want to flick his forehead.  “and my mom seemed genuinely happy thinking we’re dating. i know, it seemed awkward, but i saw how she smiled and all. and she already texted me for christmas plans with you, and it’s only august! i–... i don’t know. i don’t want to ruin that.”

sighing, you reach out to give his hand a gentle, yet comforting squeeze. “you should have thought about that before, nico,” you say softly, as if he’d break if you were to speak differently.

“i know. i just didn’t think she’d be so happy,” he admits, and the way the words come out pulls at your heartstrings. because for once in a long time, probably ever since nicholas has been your best friend, he sounds genuinely defeated. “listen, i’m not trying to guilt you into it, okay? if you really want to tell them the truth, i’ll find another way–”

“no,” you interrupt him, making him look at you with wide eyes. “we’ll keep it up. but only until you grow balls and tell them.”

your words draw a small chuckle from him, but you give him a more serious look. “i’m not joking, nicholas. it won’t be hard to tell the guys, but you really have to figure out how to come clean to your mom. it’s not nice letting her believe a lie just ‘cause you don’t want to hurt her temporarily.”

when he looks up from his fumbling hands, his face softens slightly. he gives you just the ghost of a lopsided smile, before nodding slowly, the look in his eyes kind of telling you that he’s thankful, though he doesn’t say it.

“you should write guidebooks,” he jokes instead.

“if i wrote a guidebook, my first advice would be to shove you off a cliff.”

“look who finally decided to grace us with their presence,” maki exclaims once you and nicholas settle next to your friends in a booth at your go-to diner.

“and maki said you brought news,” yudai grins, already making your stomach flip around before you even really said hello. “so, spill.”

you turn your head towards nicholas, trying to wordlessly signal him to speak. because, honestly, even if you wanted to, your throat feels too tight to get out a single word. he looks back at you, swallows lightly, takes a deep breath, and reaches for your hand to demonstratively intertwine his fingers with yours.

you catch jo and harua exchanging a quiet glance, and fuma trying (and failing) to hold back a grin, even before nicholas speaks.

“we’re uh…” nicholas begins, “we’re dating.”

“dating? since when?” euijoo asks almost immediately, eyebrow shooting up in a poor attempt to hide that maki already told him the entire story.

“i knew it!” harua declares proudly before either of you can answer euijoo’s question. “so much for sharing rent just to save on bills.”

fuma chuckles. “yeah, moving in and immediately jumping into a relationship.”

“that’s not the only thing he jumped into,” taki chimes in with an amused grin that’s quickly wiped off his face as yudai, terrified expression on his face, smacks the back of his head. he mutters something under his breath, probably scolding the younger for his choice of words – or mindset, in the first place – while taki and maki just giggle. 

nicholas is halfway through denying taki’s assumption when you, for the first time since you arrived, lock eyes with yuma. he’s leaned back in his seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyebrows slightly furrowed, and head tilted to the side just enough for you to notice. you feel your hand getting sweaty underneath nicholas’s, despite the cold shiver that’s running down your spine. and you pray yuma doesn’t say anything – but his words come out before you even register him opening his mouth.

“what happened to–” he flinches mid-sentence as you sharply kick his shin under the table.

but everyone already looks at him expectantly. you keep staring at yuma, widening your eyes in a way you hope tells him to shut up, when you feel nicholas’s eyes ping-ponging back and forth between the two of you.

“to what?” he asks tentatively after a moment of silence.

“nothing,” you reply quickly. you swear you can feel his fingers twitch, almost as if he’s holding himself back from either holding your hand tighter or pulling away entirely. and honestly, you don’t know what you’d prefer. 

“come on,” yudai whines, “you can’t start a sentence like that and not finish it.”

“especially since y/n attacked you for it,” maki adds with a mocking grin. it could have been funny, if it had been just for everyone’s complaints and exaggerated groans, but the sharp glare nicholas shoots yuma doesn’t really make either of you want to laugh.

“yuma,” he says sternly.

you quickly shake your head no, but yuma just gives you an apologetic look.

“i was just asking what happened to the guy she was gonna go on a date with,” he mumbles.

your eyes immediately land on the table, and although you don’t look at nicholas, you know he’s tensing up, even if just slightly. his jaw tightens, and the way his hand curls around yours a little harder make his veins pop out just a bit. the table goes silent again.

“what guy?” nicholas asks after a moment, voice tight, though he tries to sound casual. all the time he’s been dying to know what it was that you talked about with yuma – but now that he does know, he wishes he didn’t.

“no one,” you mumble, thumb subconsciously swiping over nicholas’s knuckles. “i didn’t go, end of the story.”

he wants to ask – who you wanted to go on a date with, why you wanted to go on a date with him, most importantly, why the hell he, as your best friend, wasn’t aware – but then again, he doesn’t really want to know. 

seconds pass, maybe a minute, though it feels like an eternity, before yuma breaks the silence again.

“so, who eventually said it first?”

“huh?” both yours and nicholas’s head whip up to him.

“when you told me you liked nicholas, you said you were gonna wait for him to say something first,” yuma shrugs as if his words didn’t make the air catch in your throat. nicholas turns his head around to face you with what seems like the speed of light, but before he can even really register what yuma said, maki breaks into laughter.

“no way! nicholas said the same thing. word by word,” he exclaims.

now, it’s your head that shoots up. your gaze meets his, eyes equally widened in shock, while the others continue to speculate about who was the one to confess first. 

“nicholas?” you mumble, and you don’t mean it as an answer, but they take it as one anyways.

“i knew it would be nico. i won,” harua grins, holding his hand out in front of jo, who sighs and takes out his wallet. only when the others laugh at the scene do you break eye contact with nicholas and look at them.

“what in the–” nicholas begins.

“jo said y/n would said it first. i bet on you. thank you for not being a wuss for once,” he says proudly while taking the bill from jo.

“i’m not a– wait, did you tell them?” nicholas looks back and forth between yuma and maki.

“no need to,” fuma cuts in with a gentle smile, “you two were kinda very obvious.”

“since when?” nicholas asks later that night when you’re sitting on the sofa, head on his shoulder while his arm rests behind you on the sofa.

“i don't know exactly,” you admit quietly, only lifting your head to look at him when he doesn’t reply. you’re half expecting him to have fallen asleep, but he just looks at you with a blank expression. “don’t act like you do.”

“year 10,” he says immediately. “we had chemistry. the class, not chemistry chemistry. well, maybe we had a bit of that too”

you roll your eyes, though it’s just routine and an attempt to not acknowledge how long your best friend has been liking you for rather than actual annoyance. “we did not. i had a crush back then.”

“on a guy named chad,” nicholas snorts.

“hey, he was good-looking!” you defend, yet you can’t hold back a chuckle.

“your have bad taste.”

“now i like you,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “so what does that say about yourself?”

now, it’s nicholas’s turn to roll his eyes. “anyways. we were doing this experiment and you messed up and something exploded in your glass. and i heard you scream. and for the first time, i felt equally amused and terrified. and then you laughed it off with that adorable giggle of yours that i never really noticed until then,” he starts rambling, completely oblivious to the way your heart flatters, “that’s kinda when i noticed.”

“nico,” you mumble his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. and in that moment, it honestly is. you look at him with big eyes that make him want to wrap his arms around you and never let go again. 

“that’s around three years ago, i… i had no idea.”

he chuckles softly and puts your head back on his shoulder. “well, like i said, i wasn’t gonna tell you. didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

you want to give a snarky remark, but for once, none comes to your mind. and nicholas knows, because he laughs again. “now that you’re not talking back for once, i think it was already worth it.”

“fuck you.”

“you wish,” he grins, earning himself a slap on his arm.

“you’re annoying,” you grumble, although you already scoot closer to him again.

“and you’re in love with me.”

you ignore his remark, just snuggle into him as he lies back and wraps his arms around your torso to pull you against him properly. you place your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, while he traces soft, careful circles on your back.

“i’m sorry for not saying anything sooner,” he mumbles, fingers slowly tracing up to tangle in your hair. “if i had known you felt the same–... or if i hadn’t been a coward, we could have… i should have–”

“nicholas,” you interrupt, “stop being sappy and shut up.”

“i liked you better when you were speechless.”

you pop up your head and place your chin on his chest so you can look at him. “you like me either way.”

he just offers you a soft smile as he tucks one loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“touché.”

© lovelyjuju, 2024. please don't copy, translate, or post on any other platforms. find my other works here

you dated heeseung for most of your teenage years.

as corny as it was, you thought he was the one and spend your whole lives together.

that you would end up marrying your first boyfriend.

you both shared the same dream, to become an idol. thus leading to the two of you auditioning for the same companies and picking one since you both got in.

heeseung and you practiced together in secret.

though he got ahead first, from nearly making it into txt and being picked for iland, heeseung was ready to debut.

on the other hand, you still had to wait a couple of years before hybe would consider debuting a girl group.

so you both agreed to break up in the midst of heeseung leaving to film the survival show.

it hurt, it did, but you spent all the remaining weeks together. a sort of final goodbye dragged out as the both of you didn’t want to let go of your relationship just yet.

it was a weird limbo stage.

the handful of friends who knew of your relationship were informed you two had parted ways while you two stayed glued to the hip in secret.

the morning of your last day with heeseung, you cried in his bathroom while he was still asleep.

you tried not to wake him and let him see you in such a state but he heard you. sliding down on his floor to take you into his arms as you cried.

neither of you talked during your last day together. some whispers of one-word replies every couple of hours but most of the time was solely about being close to the other. basking in each other's touch and presence for one final time.

you knew everything would be different after this survival show.

lee heeseung had everything, he was perfect, he was debut-ready. there was not a single doubt that he wouldn’t win the show and become a beloved idol.

even if there was a sliver of a chance he’d lose, his public debut even as a trainee would garner a fanbase waiting for his debut at another time.

when heeseung inevitably placed fifth overall you were watching in your room. a bittersweet feeling washing over you when you remember this means that it was the official end of you and heeseung. your chapter in his life coming to a close.

the last time heeseung contacts you was two days after the finale of iland aired.

a simple, text wishing you debut soon, that he is going to cut contact due to his dating ban, and needing to focus on his career.

you want to hate heeseung.

to yell at him over the phone and scream in his face about how he can’t just leave you behind like that. say that he can’t just forget about you after everything you’ve been through together.

but the other part of you wants to hope. to beg for him back. whether it meant in the future when you hopefully make your debut and he’s in the clear to date or secretly dating now. 

alas, you congratulate him and say only time will tell.

THERE’S SO MUCH LEFT TO SAY, I GUESS I’M JUST THE BIGGER GUY.

now three years past you’ve debuted and are thriving as one of hybe’s newest girl groups.

gaining in popularity with the latest release of your group's first full-length studio album.

which comes with the hectic schedules of filming music shows, variety shows, collaborations tiktoks, and more.

unfortunately or fortunately, enhypen just so happened to have a comeback at the same time. even promoting at the same music show on the same day. 

when your manager told you that you were set to make a video with an enhypen member you felt sick. there was a one in seven chance it would be heeseung.

though you had no say whether or not you did it.

nobody knew of you and heeseung’s past and it was planned to stay that way.

as you walked up to the shooting spot the air in your lungs slowly disappeared. nearly choking when you saw heeseung standing there watching your group's dance as he went over it in his head.

“hey,” heeseung whispered shyly when you quietly stood next to him.

you offer him a bow, as he was now your senior, not the boy you spent years loving.

it’s too quiet when you finish filming the tiktok challenge. rewatching it with heeseung after taking one final shot and bowing goodbye.

though after you notice the camera for both of your groups' behinds stop rolling and your manager doesn’t whisk you away just yet.

the amount of staff slowly disappears and you are about to follow after when you feel a grip on your wrist.

tugging you back towards himself, heeseung wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close.

“heeseung?” you question, words coming out airy.

“____,” he whispers, nuzzling his head into your hair, “i missed you.”

“you’re going to get us in trouble,” you mutter, though truthfully you just want to melt into his embrace.

“it’s okay,” heeseung’s grip loosens, only to spin you around in his hold. he looks down at your confused face, “i asked for some privacy with you.”

“why?” you whisper, his mere touch after years of yearning making goosebumps arise on your skin.

“i miss you a lot,” his arm rests around your waist. the other cradles your head and pushes it to rest on his chest, “please, i’m finally able to try us again.”

“i’m still on dating ban,” you frown, finally surrendering and hugging your ex-boyfriend back.

“i talked to your manager,” heeseung holds you tightly, “i took care of everything. please give me a chance again.”

it might be three years later, but for you, lee heeseung can wait thousands of years.