#idol!oc

The set was simple, it made everything else stand out more, a clean space with soft lighting that rested gently over them without being harsh, and in the middle of it Luna and Jeonghan sat across from each other dressed in white, the color making them look even softer against the background, like they had been placed there on purpose to contrast yet match at the same time.

They were both holding small cards in their hands, their fingers lightly gripping the edges as if they already knew what was coming but were still curious about how it would unfold. They both smiled at the camera at the same time, not rehearsed, just natural.

Luna leaned forward just slightly as she spoke first, her voice calm but bright. “Hi, GQ. I'm Luna.”

Jeonghan followed right after, his tone just as steady, his eyes still lingering on her for a second longer before shifting forward. “I'm Jeonghan.”

“And today we'll be taking the Couples Quiz.” Luna finished, her voice carried a small hint of amusement, like she already knew how this would go, and when she finished she turned her head toward him, catching him already looking at her, his gaze steady and unreadable but familiar in a way that made her lips curl just a little more.

“Who's going first?” Luna asked.

Jeonghan did not answer with words, he simply lifted his arm and stretched it out toward her, his hand forming a loose fist.

Luna let out a small breath of laughter before mirroring him, her arm extending forward until their hands hovered close, the space between them filled with something light and playful.

They both lifted their hands up and down in rhythm, the movement small but in sync.

“Rock, Papers, Scissors... shoot,” Luna muttered softly.

Their hands snapped into place at the same time, and when the shapes settled it was her scissors against his paper, a clean win, and Luna’s smile widened just a little as she pulled her hand back.

“Okay. I'll go first.”

She said it like she expected to, like she had already prepared herself for this moment, and she began flipping through the cards in her hand, her eyes scanning the questions briefly before she paused and looked back up at him, her expression shifting into something teasing.

“Ready? You'll have to get all of these right or I'll be very upset.”

Jeonghan leaned back into his seat, his posture relaxing as if the warning did nothing to shake him, and he gave a small nod, a quiet hum leaving him that carried confidence more than anything else, like he had already accepted the challenge without thinking twice.

Luna watched him for a second before she let out a soft giggle, her fingers adjusting the card before she read the first question aloud. “What was I wearing when you first saw me?” She lifted her gaze again immediately, her finger pointing at him to make sure he understood exactly what she meant. “When you first saw me. Not when you first spoke to me.”

Jeonghan nodded once, his expression barely changing as he answered without hesitation. “You were wearing a black shirt and black jeans, and you had red Converses on. You were wearing a black zip up sweater over it.” He paused just slightly, like he was looking at the memory again instead of just recalling it.

“You wore black a lot when we were trainees. That was one of the reasons you stood out to everyone.” His eyes shifted to her then, softer. “But you stood out to me because you were really pretty.”

For a moment Luna did not say anything, her smile already there but her cheeks slowly turning red as she nodded, her gaze dropping briefly before she looked back up.

“That's right, I had an emo phase.” She said it lightly, brushing it off even if the reaction lingered on her face, and she quickly moved on, flipping to the next card as if to hide it.

“What is something about me that people get completely wrong?”

Jeonghan answered just as easily, his tone calm. “It used to bother you how people thought you were rude because of how you look.”

Luna nodded immediately, not even letting him finish fully. “I have a resting bitch face.”

There was no hesitation in the way she said it, and Jeonghan let out a small breath of amusement before continuing, his voice steady. “People tend to have that as their first impression of you, that you're rude or a snob, but you're not.”

Luna watched him for a second before nodding again. “Correct.” She said before glancing down at her cards, her energy picking up again as she flipped to the next one. “Next question! What is my go-to order when I'm hungry and don't want to think of what to order?”

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, thinking for a second, not because he did not know but because he was choosing how to answer.

“Go to order? It depends on your mood…” He started slowly. “You normally go for something spicy. If you're feeling something Korean it's Jjamppong. If you're feeling Western it's pizza.”

Luna’s smile returned immediately, a little more playful this time. “What kind of pizza?” She asked it like a test, like she already knew he would get it right but wanted to see him say it anyway.

“Pepperoni pizza with stuffed crust.”

“That's correct.” Luna chuckled, clearly pleased.

Jeonghan turned his head toward the camera slightly, shifting just enough to include the viewers. “She dislikes pizza crusts and won’t eat them unless it’s stuffed.”

Luna nodded right away, her expression serious for a second as if defending herself. “I don’t like plain crust, it’s too dry, so if it’s stuffed I’ll eat it.”

She then glanced back at her card, her fingers tapping lightly against it before she read the next question “What is something I do when I'm shy or flustered? She lifted her gaze again, watching him closely. “You have to be very specific.”

Jeonghan’s lips curved slightly, like he already knew exactly what she was referring to, and he leaned forward just a bit this time as he answered. “You tuck your hair behind your ear even if it’s already tucked, your voice gets quieter without you noticing, and you blink a lot as if you’re trying to hide in your eyelids.”

Luna blinked at him, her lips parting just slightly before she let out a small laugh, her hand instinctively moving up to her hair before she caught herself halfway.

“I didn’t even know about the blinking thing…” Luna raised her eyebrow at him.

Jeonghan nodded. “You blink a lot when you’re flustered.”

Luna shook her head lightly, still smiling, and moved on. “You got all those right, I guess.” She flipped the card. “What is my most used phrase or reaction when I'm annoyed?”

Before she could even look up properly, Jeonghan was already reacting, his face shifting as he mimicked her, his eyes rolling slightly before he spoke in a tone that was clearly hers. “Yoon Jeonghan!”

Luna immediately turned toward the camera, laughing under her breath, her shoulders shaking just a little. “That's my most used reaction when I'm annoyed because he annoys me the most.”

Jeonghan muttered quietly under his breath, just loud enough to be heard. “It's because I like hearing you say my name like that.”

Luna let out another laugh at that, her eyes briefly closing as she shook her head. Her gaze back went to the cards in her hand, her fingers sliding one forward as her smile settled into something more focused, though the softness from before still lingered in the way her lips curved, and without looking up right away she read the next question.

“What did I want to be when I was younger?”

She finally lifted her eyes to him, watching him carefully, and Jeonghan did not take long to answer, his voice steady like he had gone over this before in his head without realizing it.

“You first wanted to be a prima ballerina. Then you wanted to be a psychologist at some point before you wanted to be an idol.”

Luna’s expression shifted almost immediately, her smile widening just a little as she nodded. “Correct!”

Jeonghan leaned back just slightly, his gaze still on her as he added without hesitation. “You achieved the first two dreams in some shape or form.”

For a brief second Luna did not speak, her smile softening as her eyes dropped for a moment before she nodded again, slower this time. “I did.”

There was a small pause, not uncomfortable, just enough for the weight of that to sit, before Jeonghan spoke again, his voice just as calm but softer.

“You're amazing.”

Luna looked back up at him, the compliment landing without surprise.

“Thank you.” She said, shifting in her seat slightly, as if brushing off the moment before it could linger too long, her fingers already moving to the next card.

“Next question… What is my biggest pet peeve?”

Jeonghan leaned forward this time, his elbows coming closer to his knees as he looked at her, his lips already curving with a hint of mischief. “How much time to we have?” He teased, and Luna immediately let out a laugh, shaking her head as if she already knew what was coming.

He did not stop there, his tone turning into something more animated as he went on. “You have a few, but your biggest pet peeve is when someone doesn't close the door after opening it.”

The moment he said it Luna physically reacted, her shoulders lifting slightly as she cringed, her expression tightening before she straightened up in her seat almost instinctively, like she had been waiting for an excuse to say this out loud.

“It doesn’t make sense to me when people open a door, enter, and leave it wide open as if they have a long tail trailing behind them.” She paused only to breathe before continuing, her brows pulling together. “It’s not hard to shut the door afterwards. It’s so annoying. I don’t know why, but it genuinely gets me heated.”

As she spoke Jeonghan slowly turned his head toward the camera, nodding once, his expression calm but knowing, like he had seen this exact reaction too many times before.

“You also hate people who are rude, people who lack common sense, people who walk slow, people who chew loudly… you hate being woken up by turning the lights on. You also hate when someone goes 'Tch'." He shifted slightly before continuing, adding more with the same ease.

Luna was already nodding before he even finished, her lips pressing together in agreement, and from behind the camera a voice from the producer cut in. “Why do you hate when people go 'Tch'?”

Luna turned toward the direction of the voice, her expression thoughtful for a second before she answered. “I don’t know why, but usually people make that sound when they are worrying about something or frustrated about something.” She tilted her head slightly as she continued, trying to explain it clearly. “And I feel like it’s annoying because it’s like they’re making it known they’re annoyed but won’t say anything… they just want you to know they’re annoyed. Does that make sense?”

Jeonghan let out a small chuckle under his breath, shaking his head slightly as he looked at her. “You're so passionate.”

Luna let out a quiet breath of laughter, nodding like she was aware of it herself. “I know.” She answered before quickly moving on, flipping the card again.

“Anyway, next question. What is my ideal day off?”

Jeonghan did not even need a second for that one. “Staying at home doing nothing.”

“Yup. I don't get to do that often, so whenever I can I just rot in bed.” Luna elaborated with a nod, and without lingering she moved to the next question, her eyes lighting up just a little as she read it.

“Next question... ooh this one is good—What is my favorite nickname from you?”

Jeonghan paused this time, actually thinking, his eyes drifting for a second as if sorting through options.

“You call me a lot of nicknames.” Luna said, watching him closely.

Jeonghan hummed before answering, “My moon.”

Luna’s smile returned immediately, softer this time, and she nodded. “That is my favorite, but it has to be a complete answer.”

Jeonghan let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Alright, my pretty moon.”

Luna giggled, she turned her head toward the camera for a second, giving a quick wink before looking back down at her cards.

“Ooh, this one is... okay,” She said before reading the next question out loud, her tone shifting just slightly. “When did I realize that I liked you more than a friend?”

Jeonghan snickered almost immediately, not even pretending to think. “That's a trick question because you always liked me more than a friend.”

Luna tried to keep her composure but it showed, the way her lips pressed together as she held back a laugh, her cheeks warming as she avoided looking at him, her eyes dropping down to the next card instead.

“You're one to talk.” She muttered under her breath, and Jeonghan only shrugged in response, a small smirk settling on his lips as he watched her.

“Moving on...” Luna said quickly, clearing her throat slightly as she continued. “What is something I always steal from you?”

“My clothes.” Jeonghan answered right away.

“You have to be specific.”

“Hoodies,” He said. “Specifically the oversized yellow hoodie.”

“That's right. It's technically mine at this point.” Luna said, lifting her chin slightly as if claiming it fully.

“What's mine is yours. It doesn't matter.” Jeonghan did not look away from her as he responded.

Luna held his gaze for just a second before she looked back down at her cards again. “How many tattoos do I have?” She asked. “Bonus points if you can name what they all are.”

Jeonghan straightened up in his seat this time, his eyes scanning over her instinctively as if the answer was written there, and he let out a quiet breath.

“Give me second...”

Luna nodded, watching him as he went quiet, his gaze moving carefully all over her body as he counted on his fingers one by one, his focus clear.

“You have seven.” He started, then continued without rushing. “The number ‘17’ on the side of your right wrist, a crescent moon on the left side of your wrist, a small letter ‘J’ inside your left ring finger, a bow at the back of your right hand, the word 'eventually' in between your right middle finger, one on your right side by your ribcage that says 'lady of the moon' and one on the back of your neck that says 'lovebug'."

Luna broke into a smile before she even spoke, her hands coming together in a small clap. “Correct.” She said, her tone bright as she nodded at him. “That was really good.” She added, clearly impressed.

Jeonghan leaned back again, satisfied but not surprised.

Luna flipped to the next card without wasting time. “What is something I do when I'm jealous?”

Jeonghan let out a small chuckle at that, his head tilting slightly. “You rarely get jealous.”

“That's true. But what do I do when I am?” Luna pressed, watching him carefully.

“You either ignore me completely or don't leave my side. There's no in between.” He answered confidently.

Before Luna could respond the producer’s voice came in again from behind the camera. “What situation do you ignore him versus not leaving his side?”

“It depends.” Luna and Jeonghan said in unison, their voices overlapping perfectly.

Luna let out a soft laugh right after, shaking her head slightly as the moment settled between them. She then lifted the next card, her fingers lightly tapping against the edge as she glanced down for a brief second before looking back up at him, her expression already hinting that she expected him to get this right without effort.

“What irrational fear do I have?” She asked, “This is really easy.”

There was a small lift of her brow, almost challenging, but the softness in her eyes gave her away, he knows this, he always does.

Jeonghan nodded immediately, not even needing a second to think as he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow against his knee while counting off in a calm and steady tone.

“You’re scared of spiders,” he began, his voice even as if he were reciting something he had gone over many times before, “you’re claustrophobic, you hate throwing up, you’re scared of the dark because in extension you are scared of going blind,” he continued, his lips pressing together briefly as he recalled the rest, “and you’re scared of the deep sea.” He finished without hesitation, his gaze fixed on her as if confirming each one as he said it.

Luna nodded along as he spoke, her lips curling into a small smile that grew wider with each correct answer before she let out a quiet hum of agreement. “Other than those things, I’m scared of nothing else irrational,” she said.

She shifted slightly in her seat, the card in her hand flipping to the next one as her eyes skimmed over it before she read it aloud. “What movies or shows do I enjoy watching?” Luna asked Jeonghan as she watched him expectantly.

Jeonghan let out a soft breath, tilting his head as if organizing his thoughts before answering. “You watch a lot of animated shows and movies,” he started, his tone thoughtful but confident, “you prefer comedy over dramas, and you have a weird obsession with documentaries, especially crime documentaries.” He finished, glancing at her with a faint smile as if already knowing he had it right.

Luna smiled at that, her shoulders relaxing as she nodded. “I love a good documentary,” she said, her voice soft with a hint of fondness.

“She was sobbing over an animal documentary a few weeks ago,” Jeonghan said to the camera, his tone calm but carrying a quiet amusement as he turned his head slightly.

“I was,” Luna admitted without hesitation, her lips pressing together briefly before she let out a small breath of a laugh, “they’re unnecessarily sad.”

Without lingering too long, she moved on, flipping to the next card with practiced ease. “What kind of pets did I have growing up?”

Jeonghan answered just as quickly. “You used to have a lot of childhood pets, but you didn’t have anything with fur because your mom is allergic,” he said before continuing without pause, “you had two goldfishes, two angelfishes, two janitor fishes, two turtles, and two hermit crabs.”

Luna’s face lit up at that, her smile widening as she leaned back slightly. “I’m so happy you remember,” she said.

“Of course,” Jeonghan hummed softly, his lips curving into a small smile as he looked at her.

Luna tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes as she added, “I’ll give you bonus points if you can tell me why I had two of each.”

“It’s because you didn’t want them to get lonely,” Jeonghan said with a small smirk, his answer coming easily before he turned his head toward the camera, his expression softening into something more amused, “Isn’t she so cute?”

Luna let out a quiet laugh at that, shaking her head slightly as she looked down for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “You’re such a smooth talker,” she said, her tone teasing but not denying it.

She moved on quickly after that, her fingers tightening slightly around the last card as she glanced down at it. “This is the last question,” Luna said, her voice carrying a small hint of anticipation, “Out of all the gifts you have given me, what’s my favorite one?”

Jeonghan paused this time, his brows drawing together slightly as he thought, his gaze dropping for a second before lifting back up to her. “It’s either Bugs or that ring on your finger,” he said after a few seconds, his tone measured but sure.

Luna nodded almost immediately, her smile softening as she looked at him. “Those are my two favorites,” she confirmed, her voice quieter this time.

There was a brief moment where she simply looked at him, her expression filled with something warm before she let out a small laugh, shaking her head lightly. “You got all of the questions correct,” Luna said, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and admiration.

Jeonghan nodded once, leaning back slightly as a small, confident smile settled on his face. “Of course I got a perfect score,” he said, his tone playful but assured, “I’m just that good.” His eyes flickered toward her, the corner of his lips lifting a little more. “You have to get a perfect score as well now.”

He reached for his cards then, picking them up with ease as Luna straightened in her seat, her posture shifting into something more focused as she prepared herself. There was a small spark of determination in her eyes as she looked at him, ready.

“Bet,” Luna said, her voice certain, as she waited for the first question.

“Okay, first question...” Jeonghan said, scanning through his cards before continuing, “What is something I do when I want your attention?”

Luna did not even take a second to think, her answer coming out immediately as if it had been waiting. “Be extra annoying.” She said it so plainly that it made the crew behind the camera let out a quiet laugh, her tone carrying a certainty that came from experience.

Jeonghan’s lips curved into a slow smirk, his head tilting slightly as he leaned forward just a little, clearly enjoying this. “In what way?” Jeonghan smirked, asking her to elaborate, his eyes fixed on her as if he already knew what she was about to say and wanted to hear it anyway.

Luna exhaled softly through her nose, already amused as she glanced at the camera before looking back at him.

“Remember the door closing thing I mentioned earlier?” Luna looked at the camera, her brows lifting slightly as if pulling them into the moment, “That. He leaves the door open knowing it will get my attention.” Her voice held a mix of disbelief and familiarity, like it was something she had accepted long ago.

Jeonghan let out a quiet chuckle at that, his shoulders lifting slightly as he nodded, not even trying to deny it. There was something satisfied in the way he reacted, like he took pride in how well he annoyed her.

He moved on smoothly, his eyes dropping back to the card as he read the next one. “When and where was our first kiss?” he asked, his tone casual but his gaze flickering up to her with quiet interest.

Luna’s reaction was immediate, her expression shifting as a faint blush crept up her cheeks, her lips parting slightly before she let out a small breath of a laugh. “I wasn't expecting that question.” She said it softly, almost to herself, her fingers tightening slightly around her own cards as she tried to gather her thoughts.

Jeonghan raised a brow at her, watching her closely. “You don't remember?” he asked, his tone light but carrying a hint of teasing that only made her more aware of his attention.

“I do...” Luna said, her voice quieter now as she shook her head slightly as if clearing it, “It was in your car on the drive home from Wonwoo's birthday six years ago.” Her voice steadied as she spoke, her eyes lifting to meet his again.

Jeonghan’s expression softened at that, a small smile forming on his lips as he watched her. “You remember everything, don't you?” he teased gently, his tone low and amused.

“Yes! Next question!” Luna waved him off quickly, her hand making a small dismissive motion as she avoided holding his gaze for too long, already knowing the look he was giving her.

There was a quiet glint in Jeonghan’s eyes as he watched her for a moment longer before moving on, flipping to the next card. “What was the first thing I ever said to you when we first met?” He asked.

Luna’s expression softened instantly, her smile turning fond as the memory settled in her mind.

“You introduced yourself to me, asked me my name, welcomed me, and then told me if I needed anything that I could tell you.” She answered with a smile, her voice carrying a warmth that lingered in the air. “You kept me company the entire time, making me laugh because you said I looked like I needed a laugh.”

Jeonghan watched her as she spoke, something softer settling in his expression before he nodded. “Correct. Good job.”

“Next question… Oh—Who is my celebrity crush?” There was already a smirk on his face as he asked it, his eyes narrowing slightly in amusement.

Luna let out a small breath of a laugh, her lips curving as she tilted her head. “If it's not me then I don't want to hear the correct answer.” Luna joked, her tone light but her eyes watching him carefully.

“That's too bad because it's actually—” Jeonghan started teasing, his voice stretching the words just enough to make her react.

Before he could finish, Luna leaned forward and playfully poked him with the pointy end of her shoe, her expression warning but amused as he broke into laughter.

“I'm joking.” He said quickly, his laughter soft but genuine.

“I know... you're obsessed with me.” Luna said nonchalantly, her tone steady as if it were a simple fact.

Jeonghan’s smile deepened at that, his eyes lingering on her. “You get a point for that.” He said, winking at her before shifting his attention back to the cards.

“Next question...” he continued, his voice smooth as he read, “Where did we go on our first date?”

“The zoo.” Luna answered immediately, her lips curving as she leaned back slightly. “Because you said if I got bored, at least the animals would be entertaining enough to save the date.” She added, her tone carrying a hint of teasing as she looked at him.

Jeonghan let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly. “That was a good reason.” He said, his voice light.

“It was a very you reason.” Luna replied, her eyes narrowing slightly in amusement.

“It worked, didn’t it?” he shot back, his brows lifting.

“It did.” Luna admitted, her smile softening as she looked at him.

Jeonghan nodded once, satisfied. “Another point for you.” he said before moving on without missing a beat. “What was I wearing when we first met? These are easy questions.”

Luna smiled back, her answer immediate. “A neon green shirt with your name written on it, the shirt they made the trainees wear.”

“Correct!” Jeonghan said, his tone bright with approval as he flipped to the next card, “What's my routine before I go to sleep?”

“Nowadays? Or before you started your service?” Luna asked, her brows pulling together slightly as she needed the clarification.

“Nowadays.” Jeonghan answered simply.

Luna straightened in her seat slightly, her expression focused as she answered, “Once you get home from work you immediately shower, then you eat dinner if you feel like it which is most of the time, then you lay in bed scrolling on your phone or we watch a movie we’ll never finish, then you brush your teeth, and go to bed and sleep.” Her voice was steady, each step coming naturally as she listed them out.

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “You're missing one step.” He said it casually, but there was something in his tone that made it clear he had been waiting to say it.

Luna frowned slightly, her brows furrowing as she replayed her answer in her head. “No I didn't.” She said, her voice firm as she looked at him.

“You did.” Jeonghan smirked at her, clearly enjoying this.

“I didn't. What did I miss?” she asked, leaning forward slightly now, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Jeonghan’s smile turned more smug as he answered, “Before I go to sleep, I kiss you first. You missed the most important step.”

Luna let out a small laugh in disbelief, her head tilting back slightly before she rolled her eyes playfully, her lips still curved as she turned her head toward the camera. “He is doing too much because he knows this interview is relationship centered.” She said it with a mix of amusement and mild exasperation, her tone giving him away completely.

Jeonghan chuckled softly at her reaction, clearly pleased with himself. “You'll get a point for that anyway because I'm generous.” he said as he leaned back slightly.

“I get a point because I was right!” Luna retorted immediately, her voice quick as she looked at him, not letting him have the last word.

Jeonghan did not waste any time as he lifted the next card, his fingers sliding it forward with ease as his eyes scanned the question before he read it aloud. “What's my zodiac sign?”

“Libra.” Luna answered without hesitation. She did not even pause before adding, a small smile forming on her lips as she tilted her head slightly, “That's easy... what's my zodiac sign?”

Jeonghan’s lips curved immediately, his eyes glinting with mischief as he answered without missing a beat. “Intj.”

Luna’s reaction was instant as she reached over and smacked his arm, her brows pulling together in disbelief while her lips parted in protest. “Ya! That's correct and wrong at the same time.” she said, her tone caught between amused and mildly offended.

Jeonghan let out a quiet laugh, clearly pleased with himself before answering properly this time, his voice softer as he looked at her. “You're an Aquarius, baby.”

“Mm hmm.” she said, nodding as she settled back slightly, accepting the answer with a small satisfied hum.

He flipped to the next card, his fingers tapping lightly against it before reading, “What's something that you weren't expecting to love about me?”

Luna let out a soft chuckle at that, her eyes briefly dropping before lifting again as she answered, her voice carrying a quiet honesty. “That you’re annoying.” She said it plainly, but there was warmth in the way she spoke. “Normally that would obviously annoy me with other people,” she continued, her lips curving into a small smile as she looked at him, “but it’s one of the traits I love the most about you.”

Jeonghan watched her as she spoke, his expression softening just slightly before shifting into something more playful again. “So you’re saying I’m special?” he asked.

“You’re saying that, not me.” Luna replied immediately, though the smile on her face betrayed her words.

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, studying her for a brief moment before nodding as if accepting her answer anyway. “Sure, sure. I’ll take that.”

He moved on, flipping the card with practiced ease as he read the next question. “What are your nicknames for me? You also have a lot.”

“Jeonghannie, Hannie, Han, Jeongie, and Angel Boy.” Luna answered confidently, her voice steady as she listed them off without missing one.

Jeonghan’s lips curled into another smirk, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at her. “Don't forget...” he said, lifting the cards up to cover his mouth from the camera as he mouthed something to her.

Luna frowned slightly, her brows knitting together as she leaned forward, trying to catch what he was saying. “Huh?” she said, her voice filled with confusion.

Jeonghan mouthed something again.

She squinted slightly, trying to read his lips again, still not getting it. “What?”

Without warning, Jeonghan hooked his foot around the leg of her chair and pulled her closer, the movement smooth as it caught her off guard.

Luna’s eyes widened in surprise as she was pulled toward him, her body shifting forward before he leaned in and whispered something quietly into her ear.

Her eyes went even wider before she pulled back and smacked him, her hand landing against his arm as he threw his head back and laughed, the sound full and unrestrained.

“You're so annoying. Read the next question.” she told him, her voice trying to sound firm but the slight shake of her head and the lingering smile on her lips gave her away.

Jeonghan gathered himself, clearing his throat lightly as he looked back down at the cards, though the grin had not fully left his face. “What's my favorite Lego set I built?” he read.

Luna’s expression brightened instantly, her eyes lighting up as she let out a small gasp. “You really enjoyed the Ferrari set,” she said, her voice animated as she leaned forward slightly, “and the Bowser one we built together.”

Jeonghan nodded at that, his expression softening again. “The cars are my favorite ones,” he said, his tone calm as he confirmed it, “but yeah, the recent one we built... Bowser is my new favorite.”

Luna nodded, her smile lingering as she turned her head toward the camera. “We both have a Lego addiction,” she said.

“What’s your favorite set you’ve built?” the producer asked from behind the camera.

Luna turned back slightly, her expression thoughtful for a moment before answering. “Hannie bought me the Hogwarts Castle that had like six-thousand something pieces. We spent three whole days building it together.” Her voice softened slightly at the memory, her eyes flickering toward him.

Jeonghan watched her as she spoke, his gaze steady and fond, the corner of his lips lifting just slightly.

Luna continued, her hands moving slightly as she spoke, more animated now. “It’s the biggest Lego set we have,” she said, her tone filled with a quiet pride, “and it was one of the reasons we bought a bigger house.” She let out a small laugh at that, shaking her head slightly. “Now we have an entire separate room filled with just our Legos.”

Jeonghan let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. “It got out of control.”

“You encourage it.” Luna shot back immediately, her brows lifting as she looked at him.

“That goes both ways. I encourage you, you encourage me.” he replied just as quickly.

“We’re bad for each other.” she said, teasing.

“Absolutely terrible.” Jeonghan winked at her, playing along.

He moved on to read the next question, “What is something I cannot leave the house without?”

“Phone, wallet, earphones... and your emotional support item.” She answered with confidence, her eyes flickering toward him as if waiting for his reaction.

Jeonghan’s face immediately broke into a grin, his head dipping in a small nod as he looked at her. “Correct!” he said as he flipped to the next card between his fingers. “This is another easy one. What is my favorite season of the year?”

Luna let out a soft breath of a laugh, her shoulders relaxing as she answered, “That's easy! We like the opposite sides of the season. I like spring and you like autumn.”

Jeonghan smiled at that as he nodded. “That's right. Good job.” His voice softened slightly as he said it, his gaze lingering on her for a second longer than needed.

Luna turned her head toward the camera then, her lips curving into a small smile as she added, “Basically we like it when it's not too hot and not too cold.”

Jeonghan let out a quiet chuckle at that, shaking his head slightly before looking back down at the cards, already moving on. “What were we doing when I proposed to you? Bonus points if you remember where it was.”

The moment the question left his lips, Luna’s expression shifted, her eyes dropping for a brief second as a faint blush crept up her cheeks, her fingers tightening slightly around her own cards. She took a small breath before answering, her voice softer now. “We were skipping rocks on the lake at a park in Berlin.”

Jeonghan looked at her with a small smile, his eyes soft as he nodded. “That’s correct.” His voice carried a quiet satisfaction, but there was something gentler underneath it. “You even got the bonus.” He added, his tone teasing lightly.

Luna let out a small laugh, shaking her head slightly as she looked at him. “Of course I did.”

There was a quiet confidence in her voice, but her cheeks were still faintly flushed.

Jeonghan glanced back down at the cards, though there was a hint of mischief returning to his expression as he asked her another question. “Is it true that you passed out when I proposed to you?”

Luna’s head snapped up at that, her eyes immediately narrowing as she caught the look on his face, disbelief written all over hers before it turned into a laugh. “That's not a question! Don't lie!” she said, her voice quick as she reached out instinctively to grab his cards, her hand brushing against his as he pulled them slightly out of reach, laughing.

“I didn't pass out...” Luna pointed at the camera as she clarified, her brows lifting as if addressing the viewers directly while Jeonghan continued chuckling beside her. “Almost, but I didn't.” she added, her tone firm but still laced with amusement.

There was a brief pause before the producer’s voice came from behind the camera, clear and amused. “You both got perfect scores.”

Luna’s eyes widened slightly before she turned toward Jeonghan, a bright smile breaking across her face as she lifted both her hands toward him. He mirrored her instantly, and they met in the middle with a double high five, both hands connecting at once with a soft clap.

“Good job.” Jeonghan said, his voice warm as he looked at her, his smile lingering.

“You too.” Luna replied.

“Can we end it with a kiss?” the producer asked, his tone teasing.

Luna and Jeonghan both turned to look at each other at the same time, a brief moment of shared understanding passing between them before Jeonghan reached out, his hand coming up to cup the side of her neck gently. He leaned in without hesitation and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose.

Luna smiled at that instantly, her eyes crinkling slightly as she let out a small breath of a laugh.

“On the lips.” the producer teased, chuckling from behind the camera.

Luna shook her head lightly, still smiling as she glanced toward the camera. “He knows better not to kiss me when I have lipstick on.” she said, her tone amused.

Jeonghan let out a quiet laugh beside her, nodding in agreement. “She'll tear my head off if I ruin her lipstick.” he said, his voice light as Luna lifted her hand and gave a small wave toward the camera.

The moment lingered for just a second longer before it naturally faded, the two of them still smiling as the scene came to an end.

comments...

@/caratwonwoo • 17 hours ago ╰ SURPRISE DROP??? HELLO??? I OPENED YOUTUBE HALF ASLEEP AND GOT HIT WITH JEONGNA COUPLES QUIZ I AM NOT OKAY 😭😭 this is their FIRST OFFICIAL INTERVIEW AS A COUPLE and they just sat there in white looking like a wedding photoshoot like what do you MEAN?!

@/hanieloveclub • 17 hours ago ╰ when she said “When do I realized I liked you more than a friend?” and he just looked at her like that… and said ““That's a trick question because you always liked me more than a friend.” i’m actually unwell.

@/seokminsmiles • 16 hours ago ╰ the way he listed EVERYTHING she was wearing the first time he saw her down to the red converses??? sir that is not memory that is DEVOTION 😫 we’re not even a minute in!

@/cheolsversion • 15 hours ago ╰ “Yoon Jeonghan!” PLEASEEE the way he mimicked her and then admitted he likes hearing her say his name like that… i need to lie down

@/junhuicat • 14 hours ago ╰ 05:37 JIYEON’S RANT ABOUT THE DOOR NOT BEING CLOSED AND HIM NODDING AT THE CAMERA LIKE “see” IM CRYING they are literally married behavior already 😭

@/minghaosart • 13 hours ago ╰ not him casually saying she achieved all her dreams and calling her amazing and she just softly goes “I did.” like ??? THE INTIMACY ???

@/vernonfilmz • 10 hours ago ╰ 09:30 WHEN HE SAID HE KISSES HER BEFORE SLEEP AND SHE MISSED THAT STEP… the way she rolled her eyes but smiled?? yeah they’re SICK for this 🫠

@/hoshihoranghae • 10 hours ago ╰ “What's mine is yours. It doesn't matter.” JESUS FUCK YOON JEONGHAN WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!?!

@/dkenergy • 8 hours ago ╰ “My moon… my pretty moon.” i’m done. pack it up. nobody talk to me ever again. he really looked at her like she hung the damn sky.

@/baebylunalover • 7 hours ago ╰ i don’t know who needs to hear this but LUNA IS SO PRETTY IT’S ILLEGAL. the way Jeonghan kept staring at her like she’s the only person in the room… chemistry is felt THROUGH THE SCREEN! i swear i felt like i was intruding on a date! This interview is TOO intimate 😭

@/jeonghanshalo • 6 hours ago ╰ i blinked and suddenly they’re talking about their FIRST KISS IN HIS CAR??? on the drive home??? six years ago??? after Wonwoo’s birthday??? oh they’ve been insane for each other for a long time.

@/mingyusbiceps • 6 hours ago ╰ 00:30 the way she said “Ready? You’ll have to get all of these right or I’ll be very upset.” and he just leaned back like he already KNOWS everything… yeah that man studied her like a textbook

@/nanayaluna • 5 hours ago ╰ YOON JEONGHAN PULLING LUNA’S CHAIR WITH HIS FOOT TO WHISPER IN HER EAR!!! LORD HAVE MERCY 🥵🥵🥵

@/wooahae • 5 hours ago ╰ Jeonghan: “You wore black a lot when we were trainees. That was one of the reasons you stood out to everyone. But you stood out to me because you were really pretty.” HELLOOOO?!!!

@/hoshishamster • 4 hours ago ╰ HER FACE WHEN HE GOT THE TATTOOS RIGHT??? ALL OF THEM??? even the tiny ones??? i’m actually screaming Jeonghan is a human Bae Jiyeon Encyclopedia 😝

@/dinosfuture • 3 hours ago ╰ 10:35 “What did I miss?” “I kiss you before I sleep.” HELLO??? SIR??? THIS IS A PUBLIC PLATFORM

@/scoupsleadernim • 2 hours ago ╰ i love how she kept trying to move on when he got smug like she KNOWS he’s about to say something that’ll embarrass her 😭 their dynamic is everything to me! I miss them soo much 🩷

@/caratdeul • 1 hour ago ╰ the way they both said “It depends.” at the same time about Jiyeon’s jealousy… yeah they’ve had that conversation before LMAO

@/hanieangelcore • 1 hour ago ╰ 11:50 when he mouthed something and pulled her chair closer??? and she smacked him after??? WHAT DID HE SAY I NEED ANSWERS!!!

@/moonlightbaeby • 30 minutes ago ╰ the lego room reveal??? SIX THOUSAND PIECE HOGWARTS SET??? they really built a whole life together brick by brick i’m crying

@/ot14forever • 52 minutes ago ╰ the way they both got perfect scores like of course they did… they’ve been orbiting each other for YEARS this was light work for them 😭

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࣪the roar of the crowd faded behind them as they stepped off stage, the last echoes of their final chorus still vibrating through their bones. their performance had been the finale of the night—high-pressure, high-energy, the kind that left sweat dripping down their backs and adrenaline rattling in their teeth.

heran felt the exhaustion settle into her muscles only when the corridor swallowed them from the stage lights. staff brushed around them, touching up smudged makeup and tugging at rumpled blazers. her stylist swiped a thumb under her eye, muttering something about “almost perfect but not quite,” and then hurried off.

they made their way back to the artist seating area, all seven boys collapsing into their seats as if the chairs had been sent from God. heran sunk into her own seat with a long exhale, her pulse still racing, her hands still trembling faintly from the thrill of performing.

“bro, I cannot feel my legs,” sunoo groaned, fanning himself with both hands.

“then don’t move,” jay said. “you’ll break the illusion that we’re professionals.”

ni-ki leaned forward, staring up at the huge stage where the next presenter was setting up. “are we still live right now?”

“yes,” heeseung answered without looking. “so stop looking like you’re dying.”

“I am dying.”

“quietly,” heran murmured.

they snickered, but the laughter dissolved quickly into that quiet, heavy anticipation that settled over their section like fog. the daesangs were next. just two left—Song of the Year, and Global Fan Choice.

heran’s stomach tightened.

the final two.

the big ones.

the ones they’d been quietly, secretly hoping for since the moment they debuted.

they deserved it.

God, if anyone asked her, she would say it without hesitation: they deserved it.

five years together.

five years of building something from scratch and praying it mattered.

she took a slow breath and clasped her hands in her lap to stop their shaking.

jungwon noticed. he always did. he leaned slightly toward her. “you okay?”

“yeah,” she lied, eyes fixed on the stage. “just… thinking.”

jake was the one who exposed her. of course he was.

“live footage of three-time melon Song of the Year winner lee heran absolutely sweating over a fan daesang,” he said, leaning back in his seat like a man observing a wildlife documentary.

the others snorted.

heran turned toward him, unamused.

“you know this is different,” she said quietly.

and jake’s grin softened. just a little. because she was right, and he knew it.

her solo achievements were hers—but this? this was the first time she had the chance to win something like this with them. with the group who had become home without trying.

If they won, it wouldn’t be her name on the trophy.

It would be ENHYPEN.

she felt the weight of that more than she expected.

“they deserve this,” she murmured, almost to herself.

jungwon’s head turned. sunoo paused mid-fan flutter. ni-ki glanced sideways. It wasn’t loud, but they heard her. they always heard her.

“we all worked hard,” sunghoon said, shifting his tie. “ENGENEs did too.”

“yeah, but still,” heran whispered. “I just… I want this for us.”

heeseung exhaled through his nose, his bouncing knee betraying the calm expression he tried to wear. “same.”

jay leaned forward, clasping his hands. “we’ll see. whatever happens, we’re proud. right?”

they all nodded.

It should have calmed her, but the anxiety only curled deeper in her chest. the stage lights dimmed slightly as the next presenter walked out. a hush fell across the arena—one of those rare moments where thousands of people held their breath at once.

heran’s heart thudded hard enough to shake her ribs.

“relax,” jake murmured, nudging her foot with his. “we haven’t even lost yet.”

“I swear to god,” she hissed back.

he grinned.

the presenter raised the envelope for the first Daesang of the night.

heran swallowed.

her pulse roared in her ears.

they weren’t on stage anymore, but somehow this felt even more terrifying. because in a few seconds, everything could change.

the presenter lifted the card for Song of the Year, and the arena leaned in as if gravity suddenly tilted forward. on the giant screen behind the MC, the nominations began to cycle one by one, the music snippets echoing through the venue.

heran watched each title appear, nodding slowly, thoughtful.

It didn’t bother her—at least not in the way it used to. not in the way people assumed it did. she had made peace with this category long before she arrived here tonight.

but ni-ki, apparently, had not.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t get nominated,” he said under his breath, eyes locked on the screen like it personally wronged him.

correction—she did get nominated; but just for the wrong song. sure 'whiplash' was huge—caught international attention, started trends, and saved coachella. but it wasn't the one that deserved to be up there. not this year.

heran rolled her eyes so hard they nearly squeaked. “It’s okay. I won it at the KGMA’s. 'rebel heart' wasn’t meant for the charts. It was for the arts.”

jake snorted.

so did half the group.

because of course she said that.

sunoo leaned over, lowering his voice dramatically. “right, and yet it still was, you know… on the charts.” he paused meaningfully. “the top of all the charts.”

she shot him a look, but he only smiled innocently.

“exactly!” ni-ki exclaimed in a whisper, lightly gesturing at the screen like he was presenting a case in court. “so my hate towards the winner will be valid, right?”

he turned to the others for backup. jake nodded immediately. sunghoon raised a brow but nodded too. jay didn’t even look up—he just gave a subtle thumbs up like a dad approving chaos from across the room.

jungwon sighed. “please don’t hate anybody on camera.”

ni-ki put a hand over his heart. “I’ll be subtle.”

"you don’t know what that word means,” heeseung muttered.

the final nominee appeared on screen, the drumroll swelling, lights dimming further. the arena held its breath as the envelope was opened.

the presenter beamed.

“and the winner of Song of the Year… ‘APT’ by rosé and bruno mars!”

the crowd erupted.

the stage lights burst into gold.

a video played on the LED screen.

and ni-ki, god bless him, froze. “I think my eye just twitched.”

heran didn’t think twice—she smacked the back of his shoulder. “behave.”

he rubbed the spot with an exaggerated wince. “what? I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“that’s exactly why I hit you,” she whispered. “preventative measures.”

jake leaned forward, grinning at them both. “honestly, same. I think we all had a collective twitch.”

“mine was emotional,” sunoo added.

“mine was spiritual,” jay said.

“mine was physical,” heeseung admitted, stretching his leg like he’d taken actual damage.

the members fell into soft laughter—quiet enough not to be rude, loud enough to pull heran out of her spiraling nerves.

she glanced at ni-ki again. He still looked mildly betrayed by the universe. “hey,” she nudged him gently, “it’s a good song.”

“I know,” he grumbled. “that’s the problem.”

despite herself, she smiled.

the group straightened in their seats as the video of rosé's speech played. cameras passed over ENHYPEN, and their expressions shifted instantly—professional, polite, supportive. years of training compressing chaos into camera-friendly composure.

but between the poised smiles and straightened postures, their knees still bumped. their elbows touched. their fingers tapped anxiously on thighs. they felt the moment tightening again.

because the next award—the one after this—that was the one that mattered most to them tonight.

Global Fan Choice.

heran inhaled slowly, the air suddenly too thin. she tried to breathe, but the air felt like it had been filtered through three layers of panic and static electricity.

the applause for rosé was still rolling through the arena when she whispered, under her breath but not nearly quietly enough: “voting closed like an hour ago. I’m going to throw up.”

sunghoon didn’t even try to hide his wince. “please don’t."

jay patted her knee with an overly rehearsed optimism. “we’re fine. we’ll be fine. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” heran hissed. “we deserve this one. tthis was our year. If we don’t get this—”

“deep breaths,” heeseung murmured, though his leg was bouncing like it was trying to vibrate through the floor. “In and out. like meditation.”

“you don’t meditate,” jake said.

“I do when I’m stressed,” heeseung shot back, then added, “which is right now.”

ni-ki was hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped like a teenage boy forced into prayer during detention. “If we lose,” he muttered, “I’m moving to Fiji.”

“no you’re not,” jungwon said automatically, though his fingers kept dragging along his slacks—nervous, restless, betraying him.

sunoo, on the other hand, looked like he was already halfway to fainting. his eyes were big, glassy, lips pressed together so hard they’d turned white.

heran wasn’t doing much better.

she bowed her head slightly, hands intertwined so tightly her knuckles went pale. she hardly prayed—not this hard, not like this. but tonight? tonight she was bargaining with every higher power she knew. she was begging for certainty in a world determined to give her everything but.

this wasn’t vanity.

It wasn’t ego.

It wasn’t a trophy for a shelf.

this was a year’s worth of sweat and bruises and late-night breakdowns. a year of airports and rehearsal rooms and the world spinning too fast. a year when they found something again—momentum, hope, unity.

“this was our year,” she whispered, voice cracking just enough for jungwon to hear.

he nudged her knee gently. “then trust that everyone knows that too.”

before she could respond, the lights shifted—a spotlight sweeping across the stage.

the presenter returned with an envelope, smiling with the kind of suspense that made audiences want to riot.

“and now,” she said, “the Global Fan Choice Award…”

the arena went silent, a vacuum sealed around their row. heran held her breath. sunoo clutched heeseung’s sleeve. jake mouthed something that was probably a prayer or a threat. ni-ki stared straight ahead like he was waiting for a judge to read his sentence.

the presenter opened the envelope.

a pause.

a smile.

“…ENHYPEN!”

the world exploded.

heran didn’t even hear the scream she let out. she didn’t hear jake shouting “NO WAY!” or ni-ki yelling something in japanese or sunghoon standing up so fast that him and jay nearly toppled.

she only felt it—the sheer force of all seven of them lunging into each other at once. It wasn’t a neat hug. It was chaos—arms everywhere, heads bumping, sunoo sobbing directly into jay’s shoulder.

jungwon grabbed her tightly with one arm and ni-ki with the other.

jake yelled something incoherent in her ear.

sunghoon kept saying, “we did it—we actually did it—”

heeseung was laughing like he’d been holding it in for months.

heran’s hands shook so hard she had to grip jungwon’s blazer to stay steady.

they didn’t want to let go. they could’ve stayed in that messy, tangled embrace forever.

but the stage lights beckoned, so they broke apart reluctantly.

as soon as they straightened, the boys moved without thinking—jake and sunghoon shifting aside, jay gently guiding her forward with a hand at her elbow, heeseung gesturing for her to walk ahead.

she hated walking first. tonight she didn’t. she held her head high, swallowing the wobble in her breath as they stepped into the aisle.

jungwon reached the presenter first and was handed the trophy—his fingers trembling around the gold, his smile wide but trembling. behind him, sunoo was openly crying, wiping his eyes with one hand while still applauding like a proud mom at a school recital.

heran inhaled sharply, blinking hard, trying so desperately to remain professional under the flood of cameras and lights and a cathedral of cheering fans.

this was it.

this was theirs.

and as she walked up onto the stage, heart hammering, she suddenly felt it—the universe wasn’t just listening tonight. It was answering.

they lined up automatically—muscle memory from years of training—but tonight it felt different. tonight, every movement carried weight.

jungwon held the trophy with both hands, the gold catching the lights as if it were glowing from within. jake stood tall beside him, one hand still brushing away the last of his own shock. jay, sunghoon, heeseung, sunoo, and ni-ki fanned out smoothly, leaving the middle spot open for their leader.

heran took her place between sunoo and ni-ki, her heart still thudding from the chaos of the moment. sunoo sniffed loudly beside her, and she couldn’t help the soft laugh that slipped out as she nudged him gently.

“you’re leaking,” she whispered.

sunoo wiped his face aggressively. “I know. don’t look at me.”

she squeezed his arm. “I’m not looking.”

he sniffled again, instantly ruining the moment.

the MC gave jungwon the green light to start his speech. and he didn’t hesitate. “ENGENES!!!!”

the arena detonated.

the roar slammed into them like a wave, loud enough that heran felt it vibrate all the way through her ribs. jungwon laughed a little breathlessly as the cheers rumbled back down, and the sound of it—giddy and disbelieving—made her chest ache.

“this…” he tightened his grip on the trophy. “this means so much to us. more than we can ever say.”

the members listened closely, their expressions softening—each of them wearing some variation of awe, relief, disbelief.

heran glanced at jungwon, expecting him to continue with his usual composed, steady tone.

but then—his voice cracked.

just once.

barely a tremor.

but she heard it like a glass breaking.

her breath caught. because jungwon never cried. not on camera. not on stage. not in public. he saved it for quiet places, for narrow hallways at 3 a.m., for her shoulder when nobody else was awake.

and hearing him crack now—while smiling, while clutching the award like it was both fragile and sacred—hit her so hard her knees almost buckled.

sunoo reached for another tissue. ni-ki blinked rapidly, pretending he wasn’t emotional. heeseung covered his mouth with his hand, shoulders shaking.

jungwon cleared his throat and pushed on. “ENGENES… thank you for giving us this moment. for believing in us this year. we worked so hard, and you—” his breath trembled again. “you made it worth everything.”

the crowd roared. somewhere in the front section, someone was already screaming his name.

heran’s hands curled into fists at her sides. she wanted so badly to reach for him—grab his hand, rub his back, steady him. but cameras were everywhere, thousands of eyes locked on them. she bit the inside of her cheek, holding the line between idol and girlfriend with painful precision.

jungwon finished his part with a bow of his head and a trembling smile. then he stepped back for jay.

jay started smoothly, launching into his thank-yous with his usual eloquence. he always balanced jungwon’s emotion with calm clarity, and tonight was no different.

as he began speaking, jungwon drifted sideways to stand next to heran. he kept his eyes down, wiping under them quickly with the back of his hand—hoping the cameras didn’t catch it.

she angled her body just slightly toward him, giving him enough space to compose himself while still shielding him from the direct glare of the audience.

he gave her a tiny smile. a brave one. a practiced one.

the kind that tried to say I’m okay even though he wasn’t.

heran reached out and placed a gentle hand on his back—slow, grounding, careful. and that was all it took.

he exhaled sharply.

his shoulders dropped.

and then he stepped into her—just an inch, just enough that his forehead brushed her temple, just enough that his hands gripped her forearm, just enough that the composure snapped completely.

he broke. It was quiet and soft, but undeniable.

heran caught him instantly, her other hand coming up to brace his arm, her body angled subtly to block the view. It was a careful, practiced choreography—comfort disguised as stage presence.

jungwon inhaled shakily against her shoulder, trying to keep silent, trying not to shake.

she whispered without moving her lips too much, “you did well. you always do.”

he nodded, swallowing hard, tears slipping down before he could stop them.

on the other side of the line, heeseung was blinking too rapidly to hide anything. sunoo was pretending to air out his face with his hands. jake had the most unhelpful watery grin in history.

jay continued speaking smoothly, unaware—or pretending to be unaware—of the tiny storm happening behind him. sunghoon subtly shifted his posture, creating a visual buffer between the two and the nearest camera.

It was teamwork born from years of knowing each other’s limits and tells.

heran held jungwon steady as he forced one more deep breath, straightened his posture, and nudged her softly to signal he was okay enough to stand on his own.

but the imprint of his weight lingered.

and as the applause rose again for jay’s speech, she realised:

this moment—this exact crack, this exact collapse—was the one she would remember forever.

and she kept her hand braced gently against jungwon's back even as the other members took turns with the mic. It wasn’t obvious—nothing dramatic, nothing that would be caught by a careless camera sweep—but it was steady.

sunghoon spoke next, voice warm but tight. then heeeseung followed, blinking rapidly between sentences. ni-ki cracked a joke through his own watery voice that made the crowd cheer.

the longer she listened, the more heran felt her throat close.

her chest tightened with a slow, familiar ache—the kind that came right before she cried. and she knew she wasn't going last.

which meant she had no choice but to get herself together.

heran breathed in slowly through her nose, fixing her posture, relaxing her jaw. she blinked up at the lights, pretending they weren’t what made her eyes sting.

you’re fine. you’re okay.

five years. five years to get here.

but when ni-ki finished his speech, when she stepped forward in front of the mic—the roar hit her like a full-body wave.

the crowd didn’t just cheer. they screamed.

high-pitched. wild. Immediate.

the kind of reaction she still wasn’t used to, even after half a decade.

It made her laugh—breathless, overwhelmed, teetering on the edge of tears again. she wiped at her eyes quickly with the sleeve of her stage outfit, muttering, “oh god—sorry,” even though nobody could hear her yet.

“uh—” she laughed again, switching instinctively to English. “uhm… my mind just went blank.”

the crowd screamed louder.

someone shouted her name.

she had fans sobbing already, which did not help her emotional stability in the slightest.

she exhaled shakily. "this is… this is crazy.”

behind her, she could feel the boys smiling. sunoo patted her arm encouragingly. to be honest, the only thing keeping her stable was seeing ni-ki bouncing on his heels out the corner of eye.

she steadied her breath—and her voice softened.

“the last five years for us…” she paused, swallowing, “…have been nothing but ups and downs. a lot of learning. a lot of growing. a lot of moments where we wondered if we were doing enough, if we were giving enough.”

jay nodded behind her.

jake hummed quietly in agreement.

“and jake made a joke earlier,” she continued, voice trembling just a little, “about me stressing over this award—even though I’ve won others.” she shot him a playful glare and he mouthed facts with hands raised.

the crowd laughed. she breathed.

“and I told him that this one means more.” her voice wavered. “so much more." she blinked hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but her vision blurred anyway.

“there’s nothing I’ve wanted more than winning a daesang with my group. as a soloist… it’s an honor. It’s special. but this?” she pressed a hand to her chest without thinking. “this was something I wanted with them. with the seven boys I debuted with. with the people who saw every version of me.”

she paused—and she heard sunoo sniff softly beside her. he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.

heran smiled through the tears slipping down her cheeks.

“we’re all… so overwhelmed right now.” soft laughter rippled through the group behind her. “we really are. and I just want to say thank you. to ENGENES—for putting in the effort, for your love, your passion, your endless support. this award is just as much yours as it is ours. probably more, honestly.”

the crowd screamed again.

she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m so grateful to everyone who helped us get here—staff, producers, dancers… our families.” she hesitated, voice thinning. “…my members.”

they all turned toward her at once.

“and I’m so proud of them,” she whispered. “because they deserve this. every single one of them deserves this moment.”

jake reached out and squeezed her wrist—subtle, but just enough to keep her at bay.

heran inhaled, steady but trembling. “we’re going to continue to put out music next year,” she said with more strength, “and do everything we can to show everyone how grateful we are. we’re going to work hard—and with passion, and with love in our hearts.”

the arena erupted.

but she didn’t even make it to the last sentence before her voice cracked—loud enough that the mic caught it, clear enough that the whole arena reacted with one collective awwhh that only made it worse.

she tried to laugh it off, but it came out watery. her eyes were already glossed over; now they overflowed completely, tears slipping down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them. she let out a tiny, embarrassed groan and hid her face with her hand for a second.

the members behind her all flinched in sympathy. and that was all it took for jungwon to move.

he stepped forward from the line—not hesitating, not thinking about camera angles, not thinking about the live broadcast. he just went straight to her, slipping one arm around her shoulders and tugging her into his side, leaning towards the mic.

the crowd screamed.

the boys laughed.

heran buried her face in his shoulder because now she was definitely crying.

jungwon laughed into the mic, still holding her close. “okay—” he sniffed, his tear-soaked voice already making sunoo choke out another sob, “we need to get her offstage.”

even the industry seniors laughed at that.

heran hit his chest lightly, still crying, still smiling. but he only hugged her tighter, shaking with a quiet laugh of his own. his eyes were glossy again, but he didn’t bother hiding it.

“thank you, ENGENES!” he shouted brightly, though his voice cracked halfway through and he winced. the audience collectively melted. “we love you! please get home safely!”

the boys joined in with the final chorus of goodbyes—waving, bowing, forming hearts, ni-ki nearly tripping into sunghoon because he was wiping his eyes too aggressively.

and then, as soon as they turned away from the microphones, it hit them all at once.

the high.

the realisation.

the we actually just did that.

they made it down the stairs of the stage with semi-professional composure. but the second they stepped into the pit—out of camera view—it was over.

jay broke first with a full-body exhale, head tipping back as tears spilled down his face.

sunoo launched himself at heeseung, who caught him with both arms and immediately started crying too.

ni-ki grabbed jake’s shirt and tugged him down into a rib-crushing hug, mumbling in a way that he was trying not to sob but failing miserably.

and jungwon—jungwon finally let go.

he turned toward heran, breath shaky, and before she could say anything he pulled her straight into his chest. no hesitation this time. no gentle side hug. he wrapped both arms around her and held her like everything inside him had been waiting for this release.

heran froze for half a second—then melted.

she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead to his collarbone as her own tears restarted, stronger than before. his hand came up to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair instinctively.

around them, the boys were a mess—laughing and crying, hugging the staff, hugging each other again, shouting things like:

“WE DID IT!!!”

“I CAN’T BREATHE—WHY ARE WE ALL CRYING—”

“SUNGHOON, ARE YOU CRYING?”

“NO.”

“he’s crying.”

heran pulled back just enough to look up at jungwon, cheeks flushed, mascara slightly smudged, eyes shining.

he laughed through his tears, thumb brushing the corner of her eye before he remembered himself and lowered his hand. but he didn’t let go of her waist.

“see?” he whispered. “told you we’d be okay.”

she shook her head, choking on a soft sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. “I didn’t believe you,” she whispered back.

“I know,” he said. “but that’s alright. I believed enough for both of us.”

behind them, sunghoon yelled something celebratory in a cracked voice, jay declared he needed “ten gallons of water,” and ni-ki announced loudly that he was going to “brag about this every day until I die.”

heran wiped her nose with her sleeve—classy—and leaned into jungwon’s shoulder again.

five years.

seven debutmates.

one daesang, finally theirs.

and in the chaotic, weeping, laughing pile of them backstage—

heran felt it fully for the first time: this was everything she wanted.

this wasn't just their fourth daesang of the year—this was the daesang, from the award show.

when she finally pulled back enough to see his face—nose pink, lashes damp, skin flushed from the adrenaline and crying. he was still smiling, but that smile had cracks in it, trembling at the edges.

she wiped under her eyes and sniffed, then frowned up at him with a tiny pout. “wait—no,” she said, pointing a finger at his chest. “I’m supposed to be comforting you. you were crying first.”

It was such a ridiculous thing to say, so heran, that jungwon barked out a laugh—wet and breathless, the sound of someone who had been holding everything in for far too long.

“sorry,” he said softly, even though he had nothing to apologise for. “I’ll… cry in the right order next time?”

she swatted his arm weakly. “shut up.”

but her smile softened, and her throat tightened again as she looked at him properly—really looked. jungwon, their leader. jungwon, who carried storms inside his chest and still shielded all of them from the rain.

“hey,” she whispered, tugging lightly at the front of his blazer so he’d meet her eyes again. “I’m so proud of you.”

his breath caught. just barely—but she heard it.

“this year was… it was hard on all of us,” she continued, voice softening into something raw. “but you… you had it the worst. there were days when the rest of us were falling apart, and somehow you still found a way to keep us together. to keep us moving.”

his eyes flickered down, as if the praise physically overwhelmed him.

“thank you for being our leader,” she said, and her voice broke. “for being our rock when we’re miserable. for scolding us when we start acting up. for loving us even when we make it impossible.”

he let out a helpless laugh at that, shoulders shaking as he tried to blink back fresh tears.

“we’re so grateful for what you do for us,” she whispered. “we’d be nothing without you. really. I mean it.”

his hands came up to cover his face for a moment, overwhelmed, wiping quickly like maybe he could hide how much her words were getting to him—but the tears still slipped through his fingers.

she smiled in that soft, teasing way she only used for him—equal parts affection and mischief.

“come here,” she murmured, hooking a finger into his sleeve. “they don’t need to see you cry.”

he laughed, sharp and broken and relieved—and then he gave up fighting it entirely.

he stepped right into her arms, burying his face in her shoulder as he wrapped both arms around her waist, holding her so tightly it almost knocked the breath out of her. his body trembled from the leftover adrenaline and emotion, and she cradled the back of his head, fingers running through his hair.

heran held him close, eyes slipping shut. “I’m so proud of you, baby,” she whispered against his ear.

his grip tightened—just for a second, just enough to say everything he couldn’t speak out loud yet.

jungwon let out this half-scoff, half-hiccup. “you’re gonna make it worse,” he mumbled, lips twitching, voice still thick. “If you keep talking like that I’m gonna actually break down and they’re gonna write articles about me sobbing like a toddler.”

heran snorted, actually snorted, cheeks blotchy from crying. “as if they don’t already have that drafted,” she teases, nudging his chin up so he’ll look at her. “ENHYPEN jungwon breaks down after member, and alleged best friend lee heran comforts him backstage. very dramatic. very clickbait. ten out of ten.”

he rolled his eyes but he was smiling—one of those watery, helpless smiles he only ever showed when he was too tired to pretend. “you’re unbearable,” he muttered, and then quieter, like he was scared the moment might shatter if he spoke too loudly: “I missed you so much this year.”

that one hit her right in the chest.

she froze. just for a beat. just long enough for the truth of it to hum between them—everything they didn’t say, everything they swallowed, everything they pretended didn’t hurt.

then she grabbed him by the shoulders. “hey,” she whispers. “I know. me too. we had a rough year of pretending to be okay.”

he huffed a laugh, shaky. “yeah. except you’re better at pretending than I am.”

“duh,” she said immediately, trying for lightness. “I’m the most emotionally repressed member. everybody knows this.”

he laughed—really laughed this time, head tilting back—before leaning forward and pressing his forehead to hers.

and then, softer: “I’m proud of you too, you know.”

she smiled.

“you think you're the only one who watches everyone and holds us together? You think we don’t see what you do?” he continued, voice steadying as he talks, conviction building. “you had one of the most insane year and didn't get a break, yet you still showed up. you give people strength without even noticing. you push yourself so hard it scares me sometimes. and you still… you still manage to be everyone’s safe place.”

heran blinked a few times too quickly. “you’re not supposed to say things that make me cry harder,” she protested weakly.

“too late,” he deadpanned, even as he thumbed a tear off her cheek with a gentleness that contradicted every joke. “you look like a raccoon.”

“wow,” she gasps, offended. “never comforting you again.”

but she was already tucking herself into his chest again, arms wrapping around him, his chin resting on her shoulder. he laughed into her hair—quiet, breathy, exhausted. then, muffled, he added, “I’m really happy we did this together.”

she squeezed him, so tightly he lets out a tiny squeak. “me too,” she murmured. “side by side, remember?”

he nodded against her shoulder.

“and,” he added, lifting his head just enough to meet her eyes, “for the record… baby? really? in public?”

she shrugged, unapologetic. “what? you cried first.”

he groaned, pulling her in again. "please stop talking."

and in the chaos around them—boys yelling, staff clapping, trophies clinking—heran and jungwon stood steady in the center of it all.

two people who had survived five years of noise, storms, growing pains, and victories—and loved each other through all of it.

Seungkwan yelps as he is immediately hit by Dino’s attack. As usual, with Seventeen games, when someone is outed, that person immediately whines, complaining that the game was rigged. 

Yup, just a normal day in Seventeen’s practice room as usual. 

“Team B is already falling apart,” Jihyun mutters under her breath, though there’s a smile on her face as she steps forward.

“Excuse me?” Seungkwan straightens, pointing at her. “Why are you talking like your team is any better?”

“Because we are,” she replies easily.

Beside him, Mingyu scoffs, rolling his shoulders like he’s preparing for something serious. “Yah, Kwan-ah just pass it to me,” he says. “I’ll end this in one throw.”

“See? Confidence is the key here,” Seungkwan nods immediately, handing him the towel like it’s a baton.

“Confidence doesn’t mean accuracy,” Vernon adds calmly from Jihyun’s side, arms loosely crossed.

“Wow,” Mingyu exhales. “Okay.”

“Prove him wrong then,” Jihyun says lightly, already stepping back into position. 

The game went on, filling the room with laughter and chaos, betrayals happening here and there with the teams shifting until no one really knew which side they were on anymore. 

When suddenly, Jihyun’s gaze shifts past the game, towards the other side of the room. 

The other members have already changed their clothes, getting ready to leave. Seungcheol is already packing his bag, making sure he didn’t leave anything, Jeonghan is blow drying his hair in front of the mirror, and Jihoon is already rolling up the cables and tidying up the equipment they have used. 

Jihyun’s smile softens as her gaze shifts in confusion. “...Are you guys going somewhere?” she asks, her voice cutting gently through the chaotic noise of the practice room. 

For a second, the maknae line paused mid-game and looked at the direction Jihyun was looking at.

Seungkwan and Mingyu who were standing in front of her turned their heads towards her, looking confused. “Eh?” Mingyu reacted. “What do you mean?” 

DK let out a small laugh as he nudged her slightly. “Eyyy, don’t tell me you forgot already?” 

“...Forgot what?” Jihyun asked confusedly, as she looked around her members. 

Vernon raises a brow slightly, though there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “We’re going to the new building,” he says. “After this.”

Dino nods, stretching his arms over his head. “Yeah, the managers texted us about it the other day,” he adds casually. “We’re checking the practice rooms and stuff.”

Seungkwan squints at her, stepping a little closer. “Wait… don’t tell me you actually forgot,” he says, half teasing, half genuinely puzzled. “Don’t tell me… you didn’t make other plans for today, right?” 

Jihyun hesitates for a second. 

It was exactly the opposite. She didn’t have any schedule or plans for today—she had simply assumed they’d be heading home after practice, like usual.

“Ah…” She said as she let out a small laugh, lifting a hand to the back of her head, as if it was nothing. 

“Right,” she says, nodding. “It totally slipped my mind.” 

“Gongju-ya, do you have a lot to think about lately?” Mingyu teased her slightly. “Why do you keep forgetting things these days?” 

“Hyung, she just finished practice,” Dino cuts in, nudging him lightly. “You forgot the choreo earlier too.”

“That’s different!”

“It’s not!”

DK laughs again, clapping his hands once. “Okay, okay, let’s just go before we’re late.” Seungcheol turned to Jihyun and said, “Gongju-ya, you should change now. We’ll wait for you at the lobby.”

Jihyun smiles faintly, already stepping back. “Alright, I’ll go change,” she says, her tone light and easy, like always.

As she went past their practice room’s door and turned toward the hallway, the noise behind her echoed in her mind as it started to pick back up. 

The hallway on the way to the comfort room is quieter, and for some reason, felt colder than it actually was. 

“We’re going to the new building…” The words keep replaying in her head. 

“The managers informed them last week..”

“Last week..”

She pressed her lips together slightly. Confused as to why the members knew about it except her. 

“Did  they just forget to send the updated schedule to me?”

“Or, maybe it got lost in my notifications..”

“Right.” she murmurs to herself, pushing the thoughts aside as something trivial—something that was probably nothing. 

By the time she reached the comfort room, there was no one else inside but her. She slipped into one of the cubicles and immediately started changing her clothes.

She was almost done changing and was just about to collect the clothes she was wearing earlier when she suddenly heard the door open. Seems like two people have entered the comfort room. Jihyun didn’t mind it that much as it was probably employees from the company. 

She continued what she was doing when suddenly, one of the employees started speaking. 

"Hey, have you already heard about it?" 

"Hear about what?" 

At first, Jihyun didn't think much of it and decided to ignore the noise coming from outside the cubicle. 

"From what I've heard, the new management was proposing some lineup changes." the girl continued. Her friend seems to be shocked, like it was her first time hearing the news. "Eh? What do you mean by lineup change? You mean.. for our company's groups??" '

That immediately got Jihyun's attention,  stopping her mid-action. 

The other girl hummed in agreement and paused for a second, as if double checking if there was no one around. Jihyun who was inside the cubicle covered her mouth to prevent a sound from escaping. 

“Yeah,” the first girl said, lowering her voice. “I heard it’s already being finalized.”

There was a soft rustling sound—maybe a bag being set down, or someone leaning against the counter. “Wait… seriously?” the second girl whispered. “But… who?”

There was a brief silence for a good second, but it was enough to make Jihyun’s heartbeat grow louder in her ears. 

Her grip tightened slightly, the clothes she was holding already wrinkling under her fingers.

“Are they talking about… us?” she thought. 

“They didn’t say it directly,” the first one replied carefully. “But it’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? There’s only one group with a member that stands out way too much.” 

“They’re really going through with it?” the second voice asked. “Looks like it,’ the first replies. “It’s been in discussion for a while already. And I think the higher ups are considering it.” 

“Still…” the second girl said, her voice full of pity. “Don’t you think that’s a bit cruel? After all, they’re a 5 year old group with a fixed fanbase..” 

She gasped quietly. “It is us.”

“Well, they don’t really have a choice,” the first voice continues. “Given the acquisition, I guess the parent company wanted to clean things up.” she added, clearly unmoved. 

Jihyun’s shoulders stiffened slightly at what the girl said. 

“You know, make everything more… uniform. Normal. Honestly, it’s kind of weird in the first place, don’t you think? Having a female member in a boy group..” the first girl further emphasised, asking her friend. 

“Still..” the second voice answered, a hint of hesitation slipping in, “After everything she’s done for the group.. It feels a little bit–” 

“I mean, it’s not like she’s the main producer of the group.” the first girl reasoned out. “Woozi-nim is still there. They would do just fine without her.” 

“Well.. I guess that works too. Ha.. This industry is indeed cruel..” the second agrees. 

“I heard they haven’t told her yet,” the first voice lowers slightly, like it’s something they shouldn’t be saying out loud. “They’re waiting until everything’s finalized.” 

“I mean…” the first voice continues, more casually now. “What were they supposed to do? It’s been controversial from the start.” 

The second voice hesitates for a moment.

“I guess… from a big company’s perspective,” she says slowly, “even if she has a solid fanbase and contributes a lot to the group… the risk is still there.” 

She paused for a while and added, “…Dating rumors, scandals, public perception—anything could blow up. And that’s not something they can really justify anymore.”

The first voice hums in agreement.

“And this is new management too,” the second adds. “They don’t have the same attachment. Back then, maybe they saw her talent and decided she was worth keeping.”

Another quiet pause. “But now… they’re probably just looking at the bigger picture.”

Her gaze dropped slightly, unfocused, like she was trying to process something that didn’t quite feel real. 

“Do the members know?” the second one asks.

“I don’t think so,” the first replies. “And even if they did… what could they really do?”

Jihyun heard some movement outside. Bags shifting, the sound of things clashing together, and the faint sound of heels tapping against the tiled floor was prominent as the two employees prepared to leave.

Then, the sound of the door closing echoed inside the restroom. 

Silence settles yet again. 

For a few seconds, Jihyun doesn’t move at all. She stays exactly where she currently is, her hand gripping the clothes she had been holding since earlier tightly. The words replay in her head, like it wouldn’t fade any minute from now. 

Slowly, she pushes the cubicle door open.

The small creak of the hinge sounds louder than it should in the empty room.

She steps out, her movements just a fraction slower than usual, like she’s walking through something heavier than air. Her feet carry her forward without much thought, stopping in front of the sink almost instinctively. She doesn’t look at the mirror right away. Instead, she places both hands on the edge of the counter, fingers pressing lightly against the surface as if grounding herself.

She turns the faucet on.

Water rushes out in a steady stream, the sound filling the quiet space.

Jihyun cups her hands and brings the water up to her face. The cold hits her skin immediately, sharp enough to make her inhale slightly. She does it again. And again. The motions become repetitive, almost mechanical, like she’s trying to rinse something away that isn’t there.

Her sleeves begin to dampen, droplets running down her wrists and pooling along the edge of the sink. She doesn’t seem to notice.

“It could be someone else.” “It’s probably nothing.” She said in her head repeatedly, splashing her face with water every time, trying to convince herself. 

Which she failed miserably. Because clearly, it was her they were talking about. It couldn’t be denied at all. Especially since they have also mentioned Woozi’s name. 

Her  breathing continues to shorten each second that passes. It comes a little uneven and shallow at first, then slightly heavier as she grips the counter tighter, her fingers pressing harder into the surface.

The water keeps running. 

Jihyun continued to splash her face with the water coming out of the faucet multiple times, as if she was trying to wake herself from a really bad dream. She doesn’t even know how many minutes have passed already. All she knows is that she keeps going, like if she just repeats the motion enough, everything will fall back into place. 

Eventually, she stops.

Her hands remain resting against the sink, her head lowered as droplets fall from her skin into the water collecting below. The faucet continues to run, the steady stream now blending into the soft, uneven rhythm of her breathing.

She stays like that for a while.

The surface of the water in the sink has begun to pool, faint ripples distorting the reflection staring back at her. It doesn’t quite look like her—blurred at the edges, unstable with every movement of the water.

She watches herself from the reflection as the voices of the employees continue to play in her head.

“…she never really fit…”

Her fingers tighten slightly.

“…they’re waiting until it’s finalized…”

Her throat feels tight. She swallows, once, trying to steady herself.

“…what could they really do?”

The words settle heavily, but she doesn’t let them show. She doesn’t cry. Not even close. Her lashes flutter once, then still.

After a moment, she exhales slowly, like she’s carefully pushing everything back into place.

“Alright, get it together.” she murmurs under her breath. “Get yourself together, Kang Jihyun.” she said to herself, as if dismissing all the emotions she was feeling into nothing. 

Reaching forward, she turns the faucet off.

The sudden silence feels heavier than the noise.

She stays there for a second longer, unmoving, before finally straightening up. This time, she lets her eyes lift toward the mirror.

Her reflection looks back at her—composed, calm, unchanged.

Like nothing happened.

Like everything is fine. 

She proceeded to walk out of the restroom and went straight to the lobby where the members were waiting. 

Once she arrives at the lobby, the noise from the members' voices and laughter can instantly be heard. Jihyun walked towards them timidly. 

Seungcheol was the first to notice her. “Oh! You’re here? What took you so long?”, he said softly. The other members turned their gaze towards her as soon as they heard Cheol. 

Hoshi, being the little trouble maker that he was, immediately said playfully, “Yahh! The royal highness is here!”, which immediately made the members laugh. 

“Did you get lost or something?” Chan adds, grinning as he leans back against the couch. 

Jihyun smiled slightly at the sight of her members, which immediately brightened her mood even just a bit. 

“No, there were a few people in the restroom earlier, so it took a bit longer…” she said as an excuse because she couldn’t bring herself to explain what had really happened. “Sorry, you guys didn’t wait for too long, did you?”

“It’s fine,” Seungkwan answered softly, “”You’re here now, so it’s all good.” Few of the members also nod in agreement. 

Cheol immediately stood up and directed the members to the car, “Let’s go now. The managers are waiting in the car.” 

One by one, the members all stood up from their seats and proceeded to the car that was parked at the entrance. The group was divided into their designated units. 

Seungkwan approached Jihyun as they walked towards the entrance door. They were the very last ones to do so. “Gongju-ya, you okay?”, he said casually. 

He was the very first one to ask, as if he could feel something was wrong. 

Jihyun hums in agreement and says, “I’m okay,” offering a small smile as if to dismiss his worry. “You should go ahead first,” she adds, gently pushing him toward their van. 

The moment the doors slid shut, their van was filled with a familiar noise as the members settled in their own seats. 

“Okaaay,” Jeonghan starts, leaning back against his seat, his tone rising as if trying to lift up the mood. “Dokyeom-ah, hurry up and play something.” 

Dokyeom connected his phone to the car’s bluetooth and immediately chose something to play. This had become their usual routine, Dokyeom would normally pick something that suits the mood and the members would automatically start vibing with it.

A song starts playing, and it was not the usual loud, bass-heavy track they usually go for during car rides, but instead something softer. The steady rhythm of guitar and drums fills the space, creating a calm and easy mood. 

“Ohh, Dokyeomie! This is nice!” Jeonghan immediately reacted, clearly satisfied with the song choice. “Ah, so we’re going with band music today… this is nice” Jihoon said. 

Even with the music toned  down, the van didn’t stay quiet for too long as the members talked about their anticipation regarding the new building. 

“Yah! Did you guys see the pictures they sent earlier?” Seungkwan asks, turning slightly in his seat. “The practice room looks really nice!” 

“Yah! The artist lounge looks really good too!” Jeonghan added. 

The conversation among the members flows naturally as they talk about the different amenities they’ve heard about and ideas for how they want to design and arrange the spaces. It isn’t chaotic in the usual loud and playful way, but you can tell they’re all quite excited about it. 

Meanwhile Jihyun stayed quiet the whole time, quietly looking outside from her window seat, as if all the energy she had earlier had completely evaporated. 

From her seat, the city stretches out in passing streaks of light and motion. Buildings blur into one another, reflections shifting across the glass every time the van turns or slows. Her own reflection appears faintly in between—soft, unstable, barely held together by the dim lighting inside.

Behind her, the conversation continues, voices overlapping in a steady rhythm that feels both close and distant at the same time.

“…we should probably rearrange the studio layout too,” Jihoon says, his voice cutting through the others just enough to stand out. “If we’re moving there anyway, we might as well fix everything from the start.” 

Her gaze stays fixed on the window, unfocused, like she’s looking through something rather than at it. 

“Jihyun?” Jihoon’s voice comes again, clearer this time.

She blinks, her eyes shifting slightly as she turns toward him, like she’s just been pulled back into the moment.

“Hmm?”

“I was asking,” he repeats, glancing at her briefly, “what kind of setup you want for the studio. Furnishing, layout… anything you’ve been thinking about?”

Jihyun paused for a while, as if she was trying to process what he was talking about. 

“…Ah.” She nods lightly, adjusting her posture as if to settle back into place.

“I’ll… look into it first,” she says, her tone even, carefully measured. “Maybe gather some references.”

Jihoon watches her for a second, his expression unreadable for a brief moment, before giving a small nod. “Alright.”

The conversation moves on almost immediately, naturally shifting to another topic. Dokyeom starts talking about soundproofing, Seungkwan jumps in with his own opinions, and someone from the back laughs at something that doesn’t quite carry through the rest of the van.

The noise builds again, filling the space in the same easy way it always does. But Jihyun’s attention drifts back to the window.

Her hands rest on her lap, her fingers fidgeting with each other out of habit. 

Seungkwan, who was seated adjacent to her and Jihoon, was talking to Shua when his gaze turned to her accidentally. That was when he noticed something about Jihyun feeling slightly off. 

He watches her for a second longer than necessary, like he’s trying to place what exactly feels different, when someone suddenly calls his name.

“Seungkwan—what do you think?”

He turns back almost immediately. “Yeah, true.. I think that would be really nice,” he replies without missing a beat, while his gaze still lingers on her. 

The moment the van enters the basement parking lot, the conversation inside slowly starts dying down.

“Ah, finally,” Seokmin mutters as he stretches his arms slightly. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Seungkwan replies instantly, earning a laugh from the others.

The members begin gathering their things as the van comes to a complete stop. Bags are lifted from the floor, phones shoved into pockets, jackets fixed in a hurry as everyone slowly starts filing out one by one.

Jihyun follows them quietly.

The moment they went inside the building, the cold air from the air conditioning immediately brushed against her skin.. She instinctively pulls her sleeves down slightly.

For a moment, she simply stands there staring at the office while the members continue walking ahead, their voices echoing lightly around the parking area.

“Jihyun-ah, hurry up,” Seungkwan calls from a distance, glancing back at her briefly.

Jihyun immediately nods. “Coming.” She forces her feet to move.

Inside, the building is even more overwhelming. Bright lights, wide hallways, and the clean minimalist interior.

Temporary employees and staff members move around busily, greeting them politely the moment they enter. The atmosphere feels different from the old Pledis building—more formal, more corporate.

A few staff members greet them before guiding them further inside. Along the way, they begin introducing some of the new managers and employees who would be working with them moving forward. 

The members bow instinctively as introductions continue one after another.

At first, everything feels normal. Until Jihyun slowly begins noticing something.

Some of the new employees greet her politely, but there’s hesitation behind it. A few of them don’t even properly acknowledge her at all, their attention moving almost immediately back toward the other members.

One of the managers accidentally cuts her off midway through introducing herself.

The members laugh it off lightly to ease the awkwardness.

But the atmosphere subtly changes after that. The members slightly felt bothered at the way some of the staff treated Jihyun, but decided to let it slide off for now, thinking it may just be a coincidence. 

Somehow, the situation got worse when they reached the practice floors. 

“Now, for your practice room as well as the studio, it is still under preparation,” one of the staff explains while guiding them around. “But I think it will be done by the second week or so.” 

“Can we still make some additional adjustments?” Jihoon asked.

“Of course.”

The conversation naturally continues from there, with the members discussing layouts and equipment while walking through the hallways.

Seungkwan, who had been walking beside Jeonghan earlier, couldn't help but to watch her silently. 

He couldn’t help but notice her awkward smiles and the way her fingers pinched at her skin as she trailed behind the members. It was such an unusual sight—she was normally the most cheerful whenever they were traveling or doing something new. 

By the time they finish touring one of the upper floors, Seungkwan has already looked back at Jihyun more times than he realizes.

She responds only whenever someone talks to her, staying quiet most of the time and laughs here and there only at the right timing, as if calculated. 

She feels…. far away. 

At some point, while the others are distracted looking around one of the studio spaces, Seungkwan quietly makes his way toward Seungcheol.

Jihoon happens to already be standing beside him, discussing something with one of the producers before the conversation naturally dies down.

Seungkwan lowers his voice slightly. “…Hyung.”

Seungcheol glances at him immediately. “Hm?”

Seungkwan hesitates for a brief moment before speaking. “…Doesn’t Jihyun feel kind of off today?”

There’s a small pause.

Jihoon is the first to respond. “…I noticed it too.”

Seungkwan turns toward him slightly.

“I was talking to her earlier in the van,” Jihoon continues quietly. “But it felt like she wasn’t even listening at first.”

His brows furrow slightly as if replaying the moment in his head. “She answered normally after, but…” he trails off.

Something about it didn’t sit right with him either. Seungcheol’s expression slowly shifts at that.

His gaze instinctively searches for Jihyun across the room.

She’s standing near the back now while one of the staff explains something about equipment installation, watching it lifelessly.

“…The staff earlier were weird too,” Mingyu suddenly mutters as he joins them.

Seungkwan glances at him. “You noticed?”

“They barely acknowledged her during the introductions,” Mingyu says, clearly bothered. “It was awkward.”

“Yeah,” Chan quietly agrees from nearby. “One of them literally ignored her greeting.”

“And that one manager earlier,” Seokmin adds, frowning slightly. “The way he talked over her…”

The atmosphere around them has shifted completely. Not angry, but uncomfortable at the way these staff were treating her. 

And that’s when the members’ protective instincts immediately kick in. Chan quickly walks over to Jihyun and gestures for her to stand closer to them, while the others subtly gather around her too, almost as if forming a shield around her. 

Because even if the members don’t fully understand what’s wrong, they know Jihyun well enough to notice when something feels off around her.

For a moment, Seungcheol stays quiet, his gaze lingering on Jihyun from across the room. Around them, the others continue talking with the staff, occasionally reacting to whatever was being explained about the studios and facilities, but his attention barely stays there anymore. Something about her expression has been bothering him ever since they arrived, and hearing that the others noticed it too only made the feeling settle heavier in his chest.

Without saying anything else, he quietly excuses himself from the conversation and starts walking toward her.

Jihyun notices him approaching almost immediately. She had been standing near one of the walls while listening to the staff explain something about room assignments, but the moment Seungcheol stops beside her, her posture instinctively straightens slightly.

“Cheol oppa?” Her voice sounds normal.

Seungcheol studies her for a brief second before speaking. “You okay?”

The question catches her slightly off guard.

For a moment, she simply blinks at him, as if trying to process why he was suddenly asking that. Then, almost instinctively, a small smile appears on her lips.

“…Hm?”

“You’ve been quiet since earlier,” he says gently. “Something wrong?”

Jihyun lets out a soft laugh, the kind that was light enough to pass naturally.

“Ah… I’m just tired,” she answers smoothly. “Practice earlier drained me a little.”

Her response comes quickly. Too quickly.

Seungcheol notices it immediately.

He had known Jihyun for too long not to.

There was always something subtle about the way she handled things whenever she was struggling. She never caused scenes, never openly expressed when something was bothering her unless it became too overwhelming to hide. Instead, she would make herself seem even calmer than usual, almost like she was trying harder to convince everyone that she was okay.

And right now, that was exactly what she was doing.

“You sure?” he asks again, his voice quieter this time.

Jihyun’s fingers curl slightly around the sleeves covering her hands.

For a brief moment, her expression falters—not enough for anyone else to notice from afar, but enough for Seungcheol to catch it immediately. It disappears almost as quickly as it came, replaced by another small smile.

“Yeah,” she says softly, nodding once. “Really.”

Seungcheol didn't respond immediately after that.

Instead, he simply looks at her quietly, like he’s trying to decide whether he should push further or let it go for now. Part of him wants to keep asking. Part of him knows something happened. But another part of him also knows Jihyun well enough to understand that she only speaks when she’s ready to.

Pressuring her would only make her close herself off more.

Eventually, he lets out a quiet sigh before nodding slowly. “…Alright.”

There’s no complete reassurance in his voice when he says it. It sounds more like temporary acceptance than genuine belief.

Still, he doesn’t ask anymore questions.

Instead, he reaches out briefly and pats her lightly on the shoulder before stepping away to rejoin the others. Even then, his gaze lingers on her for a moment longer than necessary, the worry in his expression still evident despite him trying not to show it too much.

And somehow, seeing that look on his face almost makes the tightness in Jihyun’s chest hurt even more.

Because despite trying so hard to act normal, the people who knew her best were already starting to notice.

The tour around the building lasts longer than they expected.

By the time they finished checking the last few floors, the initial excitement from the members had already mellowed down into exhaustion. The energy from practice earlier was finally starting to catch up to them, and even the staff guiding them around looked visibly more relaxed now that most of the formal introductions were over.

“Honestly, I think the artist lounge is the best one,” Dokyeom says confidently while they wait near the elevators.

The members continued to talk about what they think of the facilities in the new building.

Jihyun walks quietly near the back as they go towards the elevator. The conversations continue naturally around her, overlapping with tired laughter and occasional complaints about how long they had been walking.

For a while, she almost manages to settle into the noise again.

Once they reached the lobby, they were welcomed once again by the staff that welcomed them earlier. He suddenly claps his hands lightly to get everyone’s attention.

“Since today went well,” he says with a polite smile, “the company prepared a team dinner for everyone.”

A few of the members immediately react.

“Seriously?” Mingyu asks.

“Ah, nice,” Chan mutters, visibly brightening.

“We’re eating meat, right?” Seokmin adds almost immediately, making several people laugh.

The manager chuckles politely. “You’ll see when we get there.”

The members begin talking among themselves almost instantly after that, the tiredness from earlier quickly replaced by excitement at the mention of food. Some of them are already guessing the restaurant while others start arguing over what they hope gets served.

“Alright, let’s head down first,” one of the staff members says, motioning toward the exit leading to the basement parking lot.

The members naturally begin moving again, still caught up in their conversations as they make their way downstairs together.

Jihyun follows behind them quietly.

The basement parking lot is slightly louder this time compared to earlier, filled with the sounds of staff members moving around and cars arriving one after another.

As soon as they reach the parked vans, the members begin naturally splitting up according to their usual assignments.

“Ah, I’m sitting by the window this time,” Seokmin says immediately as he walks toward the vocal unit van.

“You said that earlier too,” Seungkwan complains while following him.

“Because you keep stealing my seat.”

“You don’t own the seat!”

Their voices overlap with Chan and Mingyu laughing nearby while the rest slowly begin climbing into their assigned vehicles.

Jihyun had just been about to follow after the vocal unit when one of the newer managers suddenly approached her.

“Jihyun-ssi?”

She turns slightly at the sound of her name.

The manager gives her a small polite smile. “Your manager is looking for you near the entrance parking area.”

Jihyun blinks once in slight confusion.

“…My manager?” she answered, clearly confused as to why her manager was suddenly looking for her.

“He said he needed to tell you something quickly,” the manager explains casually. “You can head there first. The others will leave shortly after.”

The explanation sounds normal enough. Reasonable. So Jihyun nods without much thought. “Ah… alright. Thank you.”

The manager smiles politely again before stepping away.

Meanwhile, inside the vocal unit van, Joshua pauses midway through putting his bag down. “…Hm?”

He glances back toward the parking area. “Where’s Jihyun?”

“She was just behind us earlier,” Seungkwan says while looking around instinctively.

Before anyone can properly question it further, the same manager approaches the van.

“Jihyun-ssi said she’ll head home first,” he informs them casually. “Her manager was waiting for her.”

The members immediately look confused.

“She’s not coming?” Dokyeom immediately asks.

The manager nods easily. “She said she was tired, so, yeah.”

There’s a brief pause inside the van. Something about it feels… strange.

Because while Jihyun does skip gatherings occasionally when she’s exhausted, she usually says it herself.

Not through someone else.

Seungkwan instinctively reaches for his phone.

“I’ll just call—”

Before he can finish, the manager suddenly gestures toward the driver. “We should leave now before traffic gets worse.”

Almost immediately, the van starts moving.

“Wait—”

Seungkwan turns around slightly in his seat, glancing toward the parking area as the vehicle slowly pulls away.

For a brief moment, he catches sight of Jihyun walking toward the opposite side of the building alone.

Then she disappears from view completely as the van turns.

Immediately sensing something was actually wrong this time, Seungkwan immediately decided to text Cheol about it. 

Hyung, the manager, just said that Jihyun already went home. 

Why would Jihyun suddenly go home without telling us herself? 

Hyung, I don’t think this is right anymore….

Meanwhile, near the entrance parking area, Jihyun finally spots her manager standing beside one of the company vehicles.

Relief briefly flashes across her face as she immediately walks toward him.

“Manager-nim.”

The older man looks up in surprise the moment he sees her approaching.

“…Jihyunie? Why are you here?”

She slows slightly. “…You were looking for me, weren’t you?” Her manager’s expression immediately shifts into confusion.

“What?”

“You asked one of the managers to call me here…”

“No?” he says almost instantly. “I’ve been waiting for Manager Lee. We’re heading somewhere else after this.”

The moment the words left his mouth—it was as if everything finally sinked to her. 

Jihyun goes completely still.  The sounds around her suddenly begin to feel distant.

The passing cars nearby, the muffled conversations from the parking area, even the faint sound of footsteps echoing against the concrete floor all start blending together into meaningless noise inside her head. For a moment, Jihyun simply stands there frozen, staring at her manager as if she had stopped processing everything around her properly.

A cold feeling slowly settles in her chest.

Her manager’s expression slowly changes as realization dawns on him too. His brows immediately furrow together as he glances toward the direction of the basement parking lot where the other vans had already left moments ago.

“…Wait,” he says quietly.

His eyes return to her, confusion quickly turning into disbelief. “Then why did they tell you to come here?”

Jihyun parts her lips slightly, but no words come out immediately.

Because suddenly, everything from earlier starts replaying in her mind all at once.

The conversations in the restroom. 

The way some of the new staff barely acknowledged her during the introductions.

The hesitation in their eyes whenever they looked at her.

And now this.

Slowly, painfully, the realization settles deeper inside her.

There wasn’t any misunderstanding. Someone had intentionally made her feel left out. 

Beside her, her manager’s expression darkens almost immediately.

“…What the hell are they doing?” he mutters under his breath, visibly annoyed now. “Who told you that? Which manager?”

Jihyun immediately shakes her head lightly before he could get any more upset. “It’s okay,” she says softly, almost too quickly. “Really.”

Her manager looks at her in disbelief. “Jihyun-ah—”

“It’s fine,” she repeats again, this time forcing out a small smile. One that looks calm enough on the surface if nobody stared at it for too long. “Maybe there was just some misunderstanding.”

Even she doesn't fully believe the excuse while saying it.

But she says it anyway.

Because somehow, pretending it was accidental hurts less than acknowledging what it actually was.

Her manager watches her quietly, clearly unconvinced. He had worked with her long enough to know when she was trying too hard to downplay something.

And right now, she was doing exactly that.

Jihyun lowers her gaze briefly before adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“…Since I’m already here,” she says after a moment, her voice gentler this time, “can you just drop me off at Gangdong-gu?”

Her manager blinks slightly. “Gangdong-gu? Why?”

She hesitates for just a second before answering.

“I forgot I had plans with my brother tonight,” she says softly. “We were supposed to have dinner near JYP.”

Another lie.

But easier to say than the truth.

Her manager studies her expression carefully, like he’s trying to figure out whether he should question it further. In the end, though, he simply lets out a quiet sigh.

“…Alright.”

Jihyun nods lightly in response. “Thank you.” Her voice remains calm, and steady.

But as she slowly follows her manager toward the car, her fingers unconsciously tighten around the sleeves covering her hands.

Because no matter how much she tries to dismiss it, the feeling still lingers painfully inside her chest.

Like something had already started getting rid of her—long before she even realized it.

© JIHYUN-VERSE 2026 [ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ]

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Lately, he’s been so uneasy. Easy to unsettle. Constantly on edge and wandering off into impossible what-if situations. It feels like a chronic condition. He should see the company doctor. 

Instead, he goes to see a friend, as he always does.

And that word lingers, as it always does. 

Fame has made things awfully confusing for him, and, lately, it’s only gotten worse. Take friend, for example. He’s not sure what to make of it. The people he calls friend he could sooner call family, and his own real family feels like an odd bunch of long-distance friends. 

But Y/N, she’s something all the way in the middle. 

They grew up together. She was 13 when he debuted but eons smarter and light years ahead in talent. He knew he could, and would, catch up to light years, but eons were unattainable. She always had the upper hand and the prestige. He felt like dollar store candy compared to her - palatable but not as transient and alluring. 

That feeling of watching eyes shift from him to her, always, bred a sense of competition that strained any familial pull they could have felt. 

But then, there was the time he broke his ankle during training. He was 14, she was 12. She somehow convinced her managers to let her stay in the hospital while they put the cast on him. Stayed by his bedside while he cried because he thought he had messed everything up. A stoic presence, but that was warmth he couldn’t forget. 

Then, there was the time when she got so sick that he had to wake up Yoongi to take her to the ER without anyone noticing. She insisted - if they found out how sick she was, they wouldn’t let her perform at the award show the next day. 

He stayed in her dorm, changed the cold towels on her head to bring her fever down, and force fed her medication when she refused to take it. He was days away from debuting then, and he remembered thinking about how much trouble he’d be in if anyone knew where he was. 

Then, shortly after he debuted, once they realized that they had made it big in the States before they really ever got to break ground in Korea, she tagged along with them for their LA stay. 

While the group filmed humiliation rituals framed as promotional content, Y/N was paraded around to the studios in the area, collaborated on projects and wrote some ten-twenty songs that eventually got sold off to the biggest names in the industry and landed on the Billboard charts. She danced with the most impressive choreographers while he filmed nine back to back lives feigning to adult fans for their well earned paychecks. They were building her reputation, and they were milking his before he even got to build one.

But, at the end of each day, with these envies pushed aside, they would find each other. They’d huddle up in his hotel room and bother whichever member he was sharing it with that day - usually Taehyung and Jimin, but Yoongi tended to stop by, too. Everyone liked spending time with Y/N. A small pride of his was that Y/N preferred to spend time with him over everyone else. She told him as much. At least one day out of the week, they’d sneak an Uber to Chinatown and eat something they technically weren’t allowed to eat, then get back to the house they had rented out for the team to stay in, and hit the treadmills in the basement until they were about ready to throw up. 

Then, sweaty on the tile floors, they would lie and cool their skin and talk for hours about all of this - there were no unspokens between them. He told her that he was jealous of the people she got to work with, and the things she got to achieve. She said she wanted nothing more than to sing and dance like a monkey and not give a second thought to anything. 

“It feels like they’re forcing a genius out of me. It’s not really there, but they’re digging because it would be nice if it were there.” 

She was a marketable, multi-national ploy for the company with a god given talent for words and sounds. Even as she complained, she sounded ethereal. 

Jungkook knew that a part of it was intended to insult him because she harbored some hatred for his ways, too. Wanted him to snap out of it and stand up for himself. But those inspirational aspirations - of a revolt against the company - were better served with Yoongi and Taehyung, who felt a similar extraction of a genius out of them that they weren’t ready to give. 

“You don’t like it when I hang out with Yoongi-hyung.” She said one day in the middle of a particularly challenging treadmill run. He choked on a wad of rice noodles that had congealed and threatened to fight their way back up his throat. 

“What..” He gasped, wiping the sweat from his forehead, “What - why would I-?”

“You glare.” She choked out, brushing the back of her hand against her sweat-slicked bangs. “And you sulk.” 

Jungkook stopped the treadmill. She kept running. 

“I don’t know, I think he’s a little too old to be that infatuated with whatever you’re telling him.” 

She stopped the treadmill. He slowly laid back on the floor. 

She walked over to him, towel tapping over her decollete and the back of her neck - a wash of bare skin. 

When she crouched next to him, he could smell her for the first time in a way that he had never smelled her. A sweet, tangy, sour hit of sweat coupled with the remnants of a sandalwood wash. 

Her big eyes staring down at him, dancing but focused. 

He gulped at the feeling that stirred in him at that moment. It made him feel sick and sleepy. He wanted to go to bed and paint a picture of her against his eyelids and hold on to it for the rest of the night and maybe never speak to her again. 

That was the first time that he had felt such a convulsion. He didn’t feel like that again for a long time. When they got back to Korea, Jungkook was a famous 17 year old and Y/N was 15 and getting ready to officially debut. Their schedules kept them far enough apart that he didn’t need to sit with that feeling.

There was no time to corrupt the few moments they got together in a given week. His body and his mind willed his hormones to dull so that he could laugh, joke, and smile with his friend in between the bouts of the insane schedule he was on. They hadn’t quite made it as big in Korea as they did in the States, but there was massive momentum and the company wanted the group to optimize the popularity in America all the while building off of the energy that they had in Korea. It meant traveling between both countries until he felt the blood run dry in his body, and doing a concert during the day and a music show at night, and a million and one variety show appearances, where he had to be fun and charming and human but not too human. 

Y/N debuted with immediate success. Her foreign look was appreciated in Korea, and she had already staked out a place in people’s hearts in the American industry. She got late night tv show slots with backup dancers and magazine covers in almost every single major Asian publication. She got three designer sponsorships within three months of debut and made the company 13 million dollars. Unheard of. The problem was that they sunk 5 million into her image, training, and her debut. One of the most expensive solo investments they had made - they were determined to get their money’s worth. She had her first comeback a month after her debut activities ended. Second comeback came after two months of the last one. The wheel kept turning like that, and Y/N, effectively, never got a single day off. 

She was determined to make back the debt she had accrued because she was convinced that that would break the chains. She needed to break the chains more than she needed anything else.

He had caught her in a practice room one night after three months of not catching a glimpse of her. 

She was dressed like a celebrity - baggy, layered clothes and a baseball cap and an unnecessary pair of sunglasses. 

She startled in front of the mirror when he walked in - the lights were dimmed and he didn’t realize anyone was in there. When he saw her, he didn’t immediately recognize her either. Just had the instinct to bow his head and back out, but when she lifted her head, he caught the shadow of her profile and entered instead, closing the door behind him. 

“Sorry,” she said, peeling the hoodie off of her face and throwing the cap to the ground. “The door doesn’t lock and some of the young trainees freak out when they see me.” 

Jungkook scoffed, walked over and shut the music off, which was playing dimly enough for her to hear the sound of her own feet. That’s what helped her keep count. 

“Must be tough.” he teased, dropping his body down to stretch out his back, his fingers easily finding his toes.

“It actually is. Does it not happen to you?” 

He shrugged, dropping his hands to his knees and twisting his torso, feeling his back muscles expand. 

“I’m used to it, I guess. It’s always hard to deal with the girl trainees - even when you’re not that famous.”

“You’re plenty famous.” 

He stood tall again and appreciated for a second the change between them. He was 18, she was 16. He had started to grow taller than her. He always claimed to have an inch above her head, but secretly, he knew that she was leading the charge, but the puberty clocks had turned and he had sprouted while she remained a gracious, tiny size. Almost a head shorter than him now. She was all so different. 

She had begun to grow into her body - she developed more muscle and moved with more intention, and his brain sometimes drifted off to think about how it really was underneath all of those stuffy layers. 

As if reading his mind, she ditched the hoodie off of her body entirely, revealing a cropped black tank underneath, slightly tinged with her sweat.

“That’s a relief.” She signed out, and followed his earlier movements into a stretch. “My back is killing me.”

Jungkook dropped the arm that he was stretching across his chest and walked up to her. She immediately turned around and pointed, strainedly, to her right shoulder blade.

“Feels like knives when I try to lift my arm over my head.” She complained as his hands began to find their place. He rested one on hand her shoulder to keep her still - she tended to squirm. 

The other sprawled over her shoulder blade, and his thumb dipped into the crevice towards her spine, pressing tight on the flesh to spot the knot that had been bothering her. 

Right in the center of the bone, he felt the harsh mound of flesh and she affirmed with a short whine and a deep arch of her back, trying to get away from him. 

He held her steady, felt her hip hit his and he tried to keep the clouds from fogging his brain. 

He pressed and moved his thumb around until she really began to whine and actually tried to get away from him. 

“Ah, Jungkook - enough.”

“Stay still.” he chastised while continuing to press into the spot. She moaned again and there it was - 

The feeling, the hunger, the smell. It hit him again, but this time, she smelled older, sweeter. There was a heavier, peppery perfume tinting over her natural aroma, and it felt like a shot of alcohol. 

“Don’t make those sounds.” He stated, a little too curtly. Her jaw tilted towards him. 

“What -  mgmh - what sounds?” She asked, and her lips parted just as soon to emit some melodic hum, but this one felt intentional. The hum curved at the end, sounded needy. 

“Ok, you’re fine.” He said, quickly retreating from her body as he began to feel an urgency in his hands. They didn’t want to stay on her shoulder blade - they wanted to take a walk through every inch and corner….

“It felt good,” she said with a tinge of regret. He gulped a little too audibly. 

They stared at each other. 

“It’s been tough, huh?” He asked because he wasn’t sure what else he could do. 

She thought about it before nodding. 

“Do you think it’s been tougher for me? Than it was for all of you?”

He thought about it. 

“I don’t know.” He shook his head, staring at his feet. “I don’t think so. I think it’s easier. Everyone loves you.” 

She was silent as she watched his face. There was a sense of betrayal written on hers. 

“I thought you’d understand, at least. Everyone loves you, too. Doesn’t it feel humiliating?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“I’m not mad. I just thought about it that way, too. That everyone loves you. And that it must be easy.”

“I never thought you had it easy. I just don’t think you have it harder. I think it’s harder to fail. More painful.”

She listened.

“Two comebacks in, Y/N, not a single one of them made less than the projections. You made everyone so happy. Your team got bonuses.”

She didn’t talk, so he continued. 

“Last comeback, the concept. We asked them to change it a million times. Instead, they blew 3 million dollars into making us look like jokes, and we made nothing close to that. I had two staff get fired. I feel sick, Y/N. I feel scared all the time.”

“What about the next one - the one you’re training for?” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes. He felt a little lighter. 

“What are you talking about, Y/N?”

Her eyes shone a little - something was wrong. 

“The demos. I- I was supposed to be on break. Three months, but they said you’d have a comeback and -”

He scoffed and plopped down on the studio floor, slowly leaning back to stare at the ceiling. 

“Well, they lied to you. Didn’t think they’d stoop that low, but they’re just going to sell those songs to someone in LA again, Y/N. Your music doesn’t stay in Seoul much.” 

She sat down next to him, throwing her legs out and stretching her torso over them, fingers struggling to perfectly reach her toes - a cm behind. 

He sat up slightly onto his elbows to reach to give her back a shove. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Whenever you do a project here, it’s usually not something you produce.” He realized he had begun to rub his hand in a circle onto her back. He slowly peeled his hand back and she stood up, staring down her shoulder and straight into his soul. 

“I’m going to make sure they can’t sell this one to LA. This one should stay.”

And stay it did. He never figured out what she did, what she threatened, if she held a gun to her head or a knife to her wrist - but in three months, the project was ripped away from some up and coming rookie group and handed over to them. Turned into a whole album where they let the members produce their own songs. Suddenly, everything lost in translation was perfectly coherent - Seoul accepted them. They won every music show they attended sans one, and they won their first Daesang. The group began to produce their own music, rapid comebacks followed, and they even managed to sell their excess archive for royalties - all chipping away at what seemed an endless debt. 

He still felt it - the crater between himself and Y/N. As he rose to exponential fame, at home and also abroad, she became reserved and ditched the youthful flamboyance she had started with. It wasn’t that she was any less known or any less revered, but she wasn’t the new craze anymore. That was him. She was something above and beyond. An established entertainer. She had her first Vogue Korea cover at 16. He was 19. She was 17. He won a Billboard. She performed at Coachella. 

They began to make enough money to have a voice and to have demands at the company. So, naturally, 19 came with a lot of secret girlfriends and hookups more than anything else. The company let that slip. Yoongi hyung got to skip a practice for a nap every now and then. They were still working 12 - 15 hour days more than they weren’t, but there was a gasp to be had. Hobi got more control over the choreography and gradually made things easier. Namjoon got outside collaborations. They were still working off the last of the 20 something million that had been invested into them, but their comebacks had caught up to them - they hadn’t had one in the past two years that didn’t more than make back the investments on them so there was nothing more to accrue - the debt had reached its toll, now they just had to pay it. 

He saw Y/n less and less, until, by some luck of the stars, they both landed on a break month at the same time in the same country. Y/N for the last two years had managed only a week or a couple of days of off time, and she was always stranded somewhere abroad. Once it was Hong Kong. He was in Taiwan. Felt close enough. 

They called each other almost every night, but then that turned into every other night, and then weekly five minute greetings - a sign that the other was still alive and well. 

It was one of those weekly calls where they realized that they were going to be in the same area code for the first time in two years. 

Jungkook was watching her newest music video. It was set to release a month out from that point - Y/N’s last physicals had come back not so great (because she intentionally starved herself of all the right nutrients to spark alarm) and so they thought a little rest was due. 

He was the first one to watch the full video.

He clicked the link in his email and tried to suppress his short breaths from the speaker. 

“Are you excited?” 

“I don’t know if excited is the right word. You seem excited.”

“It’s a really different concept. I don’t think it’ll take off, but I’m proud.”

“Everything you do takes off. Shut up.”

He hit play, and felt taken back. There was no dance, no green screen, no crazy CGI, and nothing else all that impressive. 

It was Y/N, in Hong Kong. In regular clothes. Videos of her eating, walking amongst street lights, trying street food, petting street cats, looking at skylines. The song wasn’t a loud, exciting, enthralling production. 

It was a love song, a sincere one. It was a piano, some synth, some bass. It wasn’t a radio song, but it wasn’t not a radio song either. 

And she. 

She was so human in it. 

She wore a short black skirt in one - nothing risque, ending just a hand above her thighs. A big hand, but still, it exuded a soft innocence. A white t shirt on top - fitting and floating just about the end of her stomach, leaving a sliver of skin to shine in the moonlight, then the lead of the restaurant she walked into. Her cheeks were pink and shiny - her hair down and floating about her. 

Her body, covered, but also on full display. His stomach sank, something crawled there that reminisced of his earlier bouts around her, but this felt sicker. This needed a cure. 

“Silence. You hated it.”

He took off his headphones, and realized that he felt an urge to cry. 

“I loved it, Y/N. Speechless is all.”

“What did you love about it?”

He thought, and thought, and tried very hard to think about something other than the shape of her hips in that little black skirt. 

“You.”

It was her turn to bathe in silence, and it didn’t put any fear in him. He suddenly felt like he had to be heard at this moment. 

“I loved how you looked. You looked really free and happy.”

“I am. I get to go home tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I thought you had another month left.”

“No. I wrapped up all of the late night show recordings, and my one award show appearance got cancelled - they didn’t promote me hard enough apparently. Some drama with the U.S. Execs.”

“So, you’re coming back to Seoul?”

“Uhhuh. I have an apartment now in the company building. It’s on the floor with the penthouses, but it’s not really a penthouse.”

“They’re letting you live in the apartments?”

“Yeah, I’ve had a designer there for the past two months. I’ve seen pictures, but I haven’t been in yet. Sleeping alone there tomorrow.”

“Oh. Sounds scary.”

A bit of silence lingered, and Jungkook could smell the disappointment - not sure in what exactly.

“I, uh - Where are you right now?”

“Japan.”

“I figured. Sorry, I just thought -”

“Flying back to Korea tomorrow.” 

“Oh.”

“I’ll stay with you. If you want.”

“Huh?”

“For your first night in the apartment. I can keep you company.”

“You don’t have to.”

He smiled at her generosity.

“What floor is it on?”

She wasn’t lying - it really was on the penthouse floor, not that he quite doubted her. Keeping her near the lower ranked, older idols was a disaster waiting to happen. The bunch tended to be a bad influence and tended to have nefarious intentions, at least as far as the management described them to be. They were like forbidden cities to the younger idols, and it had to be that way, Jungkook figured, because the older idols were privy to too much. 

But also, Y/n was deserving of the C-suite living. She brought in enough money to justify it - she was far beyond being tied down by any debt. Sometimes, Jungkook wondered if there was a chance that she was close to achieving a level of success that no one had yet. Jungkook wondered if she was nearing a status where she could change things for herself. Be a little freer.

He thought about the music video all night, all morning, and the whole drive over to the building. He easily scanned in - he’d hooked up with a couple of the older female idols and MCs that lived there. A couple of actresses. He’d never been on the top floor, but he thought about Y/n in Hong Kong the entire 48 floor climb up. 

The entire city glowed through the glass walls of her living room. A million blinks of neon yellow, pink, purple, and blue. The glow of the Han River danced in the reflection and on the white fur rugs dorning her floors. 

Within minutes of him entering and receiving the silent walk through of the house, they were sprawled out on that rug. Lights off, curtains open, city scape pouring in. 

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you think we’d get here? Like two years ago, if I told you-”

“Yes.” He didn’t need to think that through. Usually, their exchanges took a couple of seconds of deliberation. They weren’t ones to blurt back and forth - they were very intentional in their speech. Something that the adults around them praised them for, and maybe it wasn’t anything innate to their character but more so a reflection of how tightly wound the media training had made them. 

“Really?”

“For you - definitely. I didn’t know where I’d end up. I’m surprised about that.”

“I knew. For you. I thought it would happen quicker, but I’m glad it didn’t. And, Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you listening?”

“Mhhm.” His eyes were closed, his arms splayed out on each side, his fingers just barely grazing her bare knee. She seemed partial to tight spaghetti trap tank tops and short cotton shorts. That’s what she wore under her hoodie in the practice room. A different color iteration was on her body now. Anyway, he preferred to close his eyes around this outfit. 

“You’re not, but I’m glad it didn’t. You should hear how selfish this sounds - I was glad that I didn’t have to share you with as many people as I thought I would, as fast as I would.”

He had no idea what she was talking about. She had no idea. He had to share her with the world, like she did with him, sure. But in real life, with the people they knew, where it mattered, to the people with power and money - they all loved her more. He had concrete numbers in his head - managers, staff, acquaintances, mentors, you name it - of the amount of people who knew her and loved her and had access to her and he had to share her with. 

She never had to share, not like he did. 

“I guess I’m saying that I was scared to lose you.” 

Jungkook’s ears perked up, he crossed his hands behind his head and opened his eyes to stare at her, laying down next to him, staring right back at him. 

Her expression, as always, was dull. But her features, nothing of the sort. She had worn some dark lip tint during the day that had left a kissed look behind. Her undereyes were a shade too purple and dark, but it made the black of her irises appear darker, and pulled him into that tortured gaze. Her cheeks were pink from the warmth of the radiant floors - she wasn’t too sure on how to adjust it for now. The whole house emanated a soft, stable warmth. It felt neutral in the way that Y/n did. 

“I thought I messed things up. Didn’t call enough, didn’t check in. I thought, a lot, while I was away, that you were out with people now, laughing with them, getting closer to them, and I felt like, I was losing, I don’t know, like I was losing something.”

Jungkook, as he usually did, thought about his answer. 

“Like a game?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You describe your feelings in a weird way.”

She laughed a hearty laugh, it hit her eyes, which shined and shined endlessly. It took him back to the late nights in LA, immediately made him smile. 

“I missed you, too, Y/N. I didn’t have fun with anyone. I didn’t laugh with them. I promise.”

He had almost started laughing, too, but his words - warm and simple - somehow moved her to a frown, then pushed her to lean over and 

Kiss him on the cheek. 

She recoiled quickly, but he 

He couldn’t help it, he kissed her. 

He kissed her. 

She kissed him back. 

A million thoughts and sparks formed within and around him. His mobility reacted before his thoughts formed to the circumstances at hand. He pushed his upper body off so that he could hover his chest over hers as she laid back against the floor, hands immediately at his collar, not pushing or pulling. 

His hand came up to hold her cheek, thumb grazing along her jaw as he moved his lips to fit against hers, prying them open and tasting the thing he’s stared at for as long as he knew what lips were. Why they mattered. 

In the few moments it took for them to situate into the kiss, Y/N’s body seemed to burn up underneath his and her mouth opened to let out a sound he couldn’t ever forget from that moment on. 

Taking the opportunity, he licked into her mouth and felt the soft brush of her tongue against his. Rabbit like and hot, it moved endearingly, and her hands lost their restraint on his shirt. They scratched into his hair and anchored themselves there, tugging when his hand moved down to grab her knee. 

“Ah, Y/N…” he sighed out, moving his lips to start to pepper kisses down her cheek and along her neck, right by the jugular. 

“Jungkook, wait -”

He felt blood rush to his ears, and other places, and she started to squirm underneath him, and he felt this sick, sweet annoyance that he used to feel when he used to stay up, trying to massage some strain or knot out of Y/N’s back or neck or leg, and having to spend hours trying to get her to stay still so that he could get it done. So, instinct took over and he grabbed her wrists, pressed them into the floor above her head and pressed harder into her body. 

She became so pliant so easily, it almost startled him to feel all that resistance against his grip fade. 

He stopped kissing her, lifted his hips up, and stared down, breathless at her. 

“Sorry.” 

She gulped and slowly brought her hands down to rest at her sternum, cheeks burning brighter than ever. 

“That was weird.” 

“Yeah, we -”

“I can feel you.”

“Huh?”

“O-on my leg.”

His eyes burned from the embarrassment and he practically jumped off of her, flinging his back against the floor and staring straight back at the ceiling. 

“Sorry, Y/N -”

“No, no, I’m sorry, really -”

“Let’s just forget-”

“Absolutely. Let’s forget.”

They didn’t stay on the rug for much longer. Y/N showed him to one of the guest rooms, leading the charge through the long corridors of her apartment. He wasn’t quite convinced that it wasn’t a penthouse. He wasn’t so sure what made something a penthouse - he thought it was just a euphemism for a big ass apartment. 

He tried to focus on that - on the silly differentiation between different large, bodacious apartments - and not on the outline of her silhouette, a sliver of her lower back still peeking through despite her constant attempts to pull her tanktop over the waistband of her shorts, but both are too short. 

“I, uh, kind of designed this one for you. You know, if you’re ever mad at the guys, or anything.”

She gave the admission, parked in front of the door of the subject room, looking up at him with big eyes as if she didn’t know what they were capable of. As if his skin wasn’t itching to be on hers. 

Did she really not realize?

She took the silence with a nod and turned around to unlock the door, pushing it open and standing against it to let him in. He tried not to breathe in her scent as he stepped through the entrance. 

It was painted black, no windows, dim yellow lighting, gunmetal furniture and other shades of grey decor that all began to take familiar shapes. 

The room itself was huge, adorned with a small loft in the top right corner, leaning against a generous skylight showing a dull but peaceful Seoul sky. 

One of the walls was from ceiling to floor covered in different records, and it took him three separate glances to realize that they were their favorite albums. 

There was a gaming desk, and he walked closer to look through the frames that were placed around the monitor. Pictures of the two - one from a photoshoot where they almost killed each other. 

He was 16, she was 14. They were offered an innocent couple shoot for a small pizza chain, and it was the first time that Jungkook was given the opportunity to make money solo, outside of group activities. It was clearly above Y/N’s paygrade but he begged for her days and bought her everything she asked for at the convenience store, starved himself, until she agreed to it. But the shoot was unbearable. Y/N wouldn’t cooperate and kept asking for breaks. She refused to reciprocate any of his poses, and the outfits they were given looked horrible. 

He laughed at the picture before putting it down. 

“If you ever need to get away. Or, anything. It’s yours.”

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t even really look at her. He walked over to the bed - huge, california king, had to be. The sheets were a soft but thick jersey material, felt nice under his palms. 

“Should I move in?” He joked, eyes glancing over the floor as he laughed. It took him a second to lift his gaze to match hers. It was comforting to see her look nervous. “I’m joking.”

“Y-you can. That’d be nice.”

Silence.

“I can’t. That’s not - Y/N-”

“Sorry, sorry…” She stayed by the desk, digging her pointer finger into the leather of the chair. “I actually thought about making this my room, but I changed my mind last minute. Some of my clothes are still in here.”

“How did you get them to let you live alone?”

She spun the chair slightly around and sat down, crossed her bare legs. They shone under the soft yellow lights. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I get that you make them bank. I get that. But letting you live alone, aren’t they risking all of that?”

It was her turn to scoff, but she lacked humor in her face. She was starting to look like a kid whose Mother’s Day surprise soured.

“Are they risking anything by letting you fuck half the company’s idols?”

His face recoiled in an amused shock, and his lips broke down into a surprised laugh. He wasn’t sure what button he’d pressed, but her anger was endearing. He felt things start to soften, and something childish return to the air between them. 

“Alright, Jesus, I guess word gets around.”

“Of course, it does. I did a duo stage with Yunjin, and she seems to know everything about everyone.”

“Well, the source material isn’t too bad, is it?”

She blushed almost instantly, her legs uncrossed to press together. She sat up straight. 

“I should go to bed. Tonight’s been weird.”

He nodded and yawned, crashed back against the duvet. 

“Fine by me.”

“Fine.”

“See you tomorrow.”

After she left the room, he felt it get ten degrees cooler in there, much welcome for a good night’s sleep. 

The room was like a little nest for him - it was right out of his childhood dreams. He could spend days locked in here with no complaints, so long as good room service allowed. He began to inspect every inch, for little goose eggs of Y/N’s thoughts and design. 

He found his way to the closet, unsure of what to find in there. He managed to recall himself to the earlier conversation when he was greeted by Y/N’s wardrobe. 

There were dresses, heels, random jewelry - nothing eyecatching, except for the thin drawers on the center island. It wasn’t his first time in a woman’s closet - he half (maybe more than half) knew what to expect.

He just didn’t expect it to look like that. 

Lace, tiny, and colorful. Some innocent and sweet, while others were mind boggling. Without thinking, he grabbed the one his eyes gravitated like a rabbit to.

It was a simple black bikini brief, but it looked soft, frequented. His fingers rubbed the fabric back and forth between his hands, irises darkening before he could realize what was happening. 

He was 19, and she was 17, and that night, Jungkook laid in the bed that she had bought for him, in one of the infinite amount of rooms in her mansion in the sky, and jacked off with a pair of her undies. It was one of the most emasculating experiences of his life. 

When he woke up, he was greeted by nothing but silence and an apologetic note on the kitchen countertop: “Sorry! Last minute schedule change - stay as long as you’d like. Call me when you can.”

He sighed and called her immediately. She was in the sky. 

“Germany, huh?” 

“Yeah, some German big money investors want dinner with a K-pop idol. I guess the agency is trying to go global. I don’t know. How did you sleep?”

“Fine,” he murmured, grabbing an apple sauce packet and a can of coke from the fridge. “I’m probably going to take you up on that offer. I’m going to crash here for a bit.”

“Until I get back?”

He stared at his reflection in a mirror in the hallway. It appeared distorted.

“Yeah. Until you come back.”

Within a matter of a week, he boned at least four girls into Y/N’s bed. Not the one she bought him, no. His new obsession was her bedroom. He felt watched in it - felt like there were definitely cameras somewhere in there, but he couldn’t be sure that she ever checked it, nor that he didn’t want her to. 

Sometimes, he felt like he was performing for her. He couldn’t really think of a reason as to why he would do what he was doing on her bed if he wasn’t performing for her. But the way he felt about it deep down was nothing better than neutral. He felt nothing. He felt nothing walking around the house like a ghost, staring at the city, drinking the days away until the next thing. 

The next thing for him ended up being his first world tour. 

He was gone for a full year, and then some, counting all of the pre- and post-activities. The group skyrocketed, gained credibility, and became enviable. They became national excellence, and perhaps more importantly, they all became millionaires. He actually got one of the penthouses that the company offered, and it certainly was different. 

Bigger, obviously. 

It was waiting for him at the end of the tour. He was 20, she was 18. He flew home to see what the company’s designers had done to it, and he was pleased enough. Everything was made according to his taste, maximizing his privacy and optimizing the amenities. Hot tub, personal indoor pool with a small rooftop courtyard. Outdoor bar, 24/7 catering. Random luxuries compiled into a gaudy, dark home. 

Impressive beyond measure. 

And yet, that night, while Y/N was away on promoting some European movie she filmed for Cannes, he ended up in her house, fucking some random executive into her bed. 

When Y/N was done accepting the Cannes award with the rest of her cast, Jungkook left for Japan, to work on the next album and to film enough music videos to satiate the hordes. At the same time, Jungkook started to hear rumors about Y/N dating some rapper named DEAN. 

After Japan, they were carted back to LA, where they worked on the B-side of their album and filmed more content. 

Rumors began to bloom and one dating rumor spiraled into a million dating rumors about Y/N. The rumor of all rumors was that she had gone absolutely nympho. Jungkook started going to the gym, religiously. There was not much else to do in the heat in California. He couldn’t wait to go home. 

Next winter, Jungkook was on a plane back to Seoul. Heavy snowstorms had littered the week with uncertainty about the state of his flight, but luck was on his side and instead of spending the night rotting away at the first class lounge, he got to fly home in stomach churning, god-quaking turbulence.

His phone rang on the car ride home. 

“Heard you’re back in Seoul.”

“It hasn’t even been twenty minutes. God.”

“I have my sources.”

His back shivered the slightest bit at the softness of her tone - she was almost whispering.

“Where are you?”

“Guess.”

“You’re in Korea.”

She laughed and the line crackled.

“A little more specific, maybe.”

His lips lifted into a devious upturn, which he straightened out almost immediately. He had gotten better at controlling his impulses. 

But despite the repression, something in him kept smiling at the picture that painted in his mind - vivid and imaginative. 

Sprawled out on the rug - clothing inapt no matter how much she tugs on it - her dark, midnight navy hair falling around her like a halo. 

“On the rug.” he said, trying to catch his own breath. “In your living room.”

“Bingo.”

“Should I reroute?” 

“Are we not in the same building?” 

He smirked once more. He didn’t care to repress it this time. 

“I got an actual penthouse - a block down.” 

Silence, but he could hear the smile. 

“Reroute then. Anything bigger than this would give me a headache.”

“I’ll see you there.”

He hung up and the driver swatted his hand at him - a friendly old man that had been with him since they had first started to make it big in the states. He used to drive Y/N, too. He knows of them as two friends. Innocent, sibling like kids. 

It made his stomach turn again, almost as bad as the turbulence did. 

“She just got back yesterday.”

“You drove her?” Jungkook asked, trying to dull the sound of his curiosity.

“She requested it. Her manager’s driving makes her nauseous, apparently. Not everyone has the skill. It’s learned, you know.”

“She’s still a brat.” Jungkook huffed, trying to hide a frown. He hated her creepy manager. Her being in a car with him made him nauseous, too. 

“She’s a bit different, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook’s ears perked up.

“What do you mean?”

The driver sighed, pulled into Y/N’s garage and put the car in park before finally turning to face him. 

“Mr. Jeon, I think something happened to her in Europe. She’s a tough girl, but she’s really quiet.”

Those words stayed with Jungkook during the entire 48-floor journey. He didn’t feel nauseous or faint or unwell, but he felt responsible. He didn’t know what the drive meant, and he couldn’t collect himself to be prepared for what it all might have meant. He felt a bit of fury in his bones, but he didn’t know who the culprit was. He brewed like that all the way to her apartment. 

He entered like he always did, but this time, there was no desperate girl joining him in his stumble through the entryway. 

But he wasn’t alone. 

He was accompanied by her sweet, recognizable scent, swimming through the months’ drained apartment. This was the smell that seemed to wear off with every girl that he brought in. This was the smell that lingered in his thoughts late at night. This was the scent on her cardigan that he kept in his tour luggage. 

It drowned the house so fast. 

He followed the scent to the kitchen, with loud but composed steps to warn her of his presence - to not catch her off guard. The driver’s words mingled with his excitement of seeing her again, and he couldn’t manage a poker face. 

She was standing in her kitchen, watching something on her phone with her headphones in, lips pulled into an inquisitive frown. 

The sudden shadow in the doorway made her lift her head up, and while Jungkook immediately beamed at her, her expression remained unchanged. Flat, but inquisitive. 

Jungkook’s smile dropped. 

She clicked the phone off and took her headphones off almost robotically. Jungkook felt a need to fill the silence. 

“I can’t believe you’re home.”

She looked around the room, back at him, then walked past him and towards the living room, phone in hand. 

He instinctively moved out of the way as she marched out of the doorway, and felt the beginnings of bewilderment as he followed behind her.

“Silent treatment?” He joked as she walked up to that cozy rug in the middle of her living room and slowly sat down on her shins. Her big, raven eyes stared back at him. 

“No,” she answered, slowly sitting on her hip so that she was splayed to one side, her legs laying out, tangled together. “Just tired. I’ve been slipping in and out of sleep for the past 24 hours.”

He took a millisecond to take in what she was wearing. A big t-shirt, clearly a man’s. He couldn’t see much else. He couldn’t really bring himself to think about it. 

“I heard Cannes was tough. What happened?”

Her head tilted. Her eyes seemed to get angrier but her face managed to stay neutral.

“How was the tour?”

He licked his lips and rocked onto his heels, trying to disperse the confrontational stare he was being met with. 

“I asked you first,” he tried to keep everything light-hearted at the end of it - a joke. Joking. Easy going conversations between friends - he was trying so hard to manifest it all so that he could push all this aside and enjoy her company. Get to really talk to her like he used to. 

“I couldn’t focus on anything at Cannes. People didn’t really like me there. I think I seemed vapid.”

His eyes softened and he immediately plopped down next to her on the rug. 

He was 20, she was 18. 

“We should drink if we’re going to catch up.” He offered, eyes twinkling with mischief, but a recognizable warm mischief. She needed only to lift one corner of her mouth into a smile before he dissolved into a fit of laughter and ran to the kitchen to snatch the expensive whiskey he had spotted. Cork popped, he sat back down and took down a shot before shoving it toward Y/N. 

“To shitty French people.”

She smiled and took a swig, followed it by an immediate hiss. 

“God, that tastes like gasoline.” She coughed. He gave her back a couple of pats and took down some whiskey through his insufferable grin. 

“Welcome back, Y/N.”

“Welcome back, Jungkook.” 

They smiled at each other, honestly. Finally. 

They spent the next hour finishing up half the bottle of whiskey and reminiscing about their childhood and the other members and catching up and everything else they could squeeze in before the alcohol started to turn sour, and certain words exchanged created black holes in their wake.

“The French weren’t all that shitty, you know,” she finally quipped, turning the conversation back to this doomed Cannes topic. “They had a point. I was being vapid.”

“How?” He asked with a genuine, drunk sincerity. “I have never known you to be vapid.”

She was sitting with her knees pulled to her chest. It had been obvious to him at least half an hour ago that she was wearing the tiniest possible shorts - borderline boxer briefs - under her big, big shirt. 

He wanted to ask, but he didn’t. 

“I was distracted.” 

He really wanted to ask. He didn’t know how to not ask.

“Was it because of a guy?”

Silence. He dared to make eye contact with her. He could see red creeping into her cheeks and it was not a happy shade. She looked to be brewing. He wasn’t happy about her reaction, but in this rare occasion, his mind didn’t immediately reject the oncoming confrontation. He wanted to see where it would lead. 

“Sure. Losing my virginity, drunk out of my mind in a hotel room with three guys watching wasn’t ideal.”

Jungkook leapt up, body acting before the mind. The absurdity couldn’t even register to him. 

“Ya, Y/N-”

“I’m obviously joking. You want to ask, so ask.”

He bit his cheek, propped his knee up and leaned his elbow against it. Repositioning to dilute his anger. 

“It’s none of my business.” He started. “But I always shared with you. Whenever you asked. I wasn’t snippy because you asked.”

“Yeah, but I asked. You haven’t asked me anything.”

He swallowed a desire to go up an octave.

“Fine,” he said through a heartless chuckle, picking at the white fur. “Whose shirt are you wearing?”

She smiled, her hands reached for the hems. 

“Does it bother you? Should I-” 

His hands shot out to pull hers down, cementing the shirt to cover her abdomen. She looked at him like she had won. 

“It’s one of my dancers. It’s his shirt. Or maybe his boyfriend’s.” 

Jungkook let go of the shirt.

“The rumors aren’t true. I rejected my manager during the festival, and he went on a little PR rampage. He couldn’t actually afford to tank my image, given that he needs the commission,  so he just spread a bunch of rumors in the agency.”

“Y/N-”

“It’s fine-”

“I’ll kill him. Tell me to do it, I’ll kill him.”

She shook her head and laughed. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. He didn’t really do anything. That wasn’t my issue with Cannes. Wasn’t my distraction.”

“Ok, so, what was it?”

She smiled. Red. Green. She looked evil and angelic. She clearly had a plan. 

“I can show you. New obsession. You might know of it.”

She grabbed her phone from one of the couches nearby and clicked a button, and suddenly, the TV rose from the floor and turned on. 

It wouldn’t be a lie to say Jungkook wasn’t surprised at what played. 

Y/N’s bed, the scene of the crime. 

It was sick, he knew it, but he felt a sense of pride. Because it bothered her? Because he had the power to make her feel something? 

He was ready to read into this confession, over and over again. 

But Y/N wasn’t the type to leave things out of context, to let you dwell on the answer. She’s big on confessing to the full crime. 

“Sorry,” he offered, staring at the screen and avoiding her gaze at all costs. 

“For what?”

“Your room is really pretty. The ladies like it, and you said I could use your house.” He stood up, sat down on the couch, and her gaze followed his every move. “Didn’t mean to upset you during your movie premiere.”

She smiled and paused the video of him pounding into a blonde idol. 

“Do you really not recognize this shirt?” 

Jungkook’s pride paused. His cloud nine felt the incoming rupture. He looked at it once again, he was perhaps too shy to really look at it before. He just saw the outline - the big silhouette. Didn’t question it much. 

It was an old shirt - washed a couple of times. 

It was his shirt. 

It was the shirt - 

“Let’s watch my favorite video. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Y/N-”

“Y/N-”

His voice jumped back at him through the large tv screen. So did that god forsaken shirt. 

It was the first night, in his new room, with the black underwear. The display included an unforgiving stream of sounds - he never realized how vocal he was being. 

“My favorite part.” She whispered, eyes genuinely widening with amazement like a child seeing a dead body for the first time. 

He came. The digital quality of Y/N’s security system proved to be better than most of the porno he watched. 

Though physical proximity felt like lava in this context, Jungkook willed his body to cross the threshold and drop back onto the floor and grab the phone out of Y/N’s hand, to click whatever button he needed to to end this charade, but she moved quickly, suddenly animated. 

She sprung off the floor and Jungkook came crashing down, she turned the corner into the long hallway while his legs scrambled to get back up. 

She ran full speed down the corridor, and he was hot on her heels but not hot enough. She bolted in and out of rooms while dragging her finger over some button to make the loud video playing in the living room rewind over and over and over on the part where he called out her name. 

His whiny, needy voice echoed throughout the house until he finally got to her in her own room. The last room on the corridor, and a bit of a sharp turn, but Y/N miscalculated the turn and ran into the wall, giving Jungkook his only opportunity, which he seized. 

He cornered her against the wall and ripped the phone out of her hand, and it wasn’t funny or playful. He was annoyed, frustrated, and angry. 

Angry in the way a father, a teacher, would be. Angry in a way that Jungkook hadn’t really felt and that Y/n hadn’t really seen. 

Once he grabbed the phone, he quickly swiped off of whatever app was blasting the video throughout the house and tossed it on the floor. 

“You can’t just throw people’s phones-” she began to protest but was cut short by his hand slamming down on the wall right next to her head. 

“What the fuck, Y/N?? What the actual fuck!?” 

Her playful smile dropped and she flinched against the wall. Jungkook was seeing red and just couldn’t get himself to feel bad no matter how hard her eyes pleaded for it. 

“I thought it was funny…” “What about that seems funny to you???”

He wanted to stop. He could see the fear, the regret in her. He missed her. He didn’t want to do this. 

“Sorry, I just -”

“Do you think it’s funny, Y/N? That I think of you like that?”

Her lips pursed, and what really infuriated him wasn’t that she genuinely looked scared, but more so that she looked like she was stifling humor behind a facade of fear to invoke pity out of him. It usually worked, but it wasn’t working now. It was just making everything worse. 

But in her silence, he couldn’t escalate anything to his liking. He just sighed and took a step back, frustrated. And slightly icky. 

“Just…” he shook his head, rubbed his brows. “Just delete the videos.”

“Why should I?” 

There - that was a good hook to keep complaining, and whining, and berating, and he really felt a need to do all three. He felt a need to lecture. To chastise. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!?!? They’re illegal sex tapes, Y/N, are you insane?!?!”

“Yeah, in my bed! It’s you having sex with randos in my bed! How do you even have the nerve to get mad at me right now?!?”

“What about the video of me jacking off?? What’s your excuse for that?”

She flushed, mouth dropped open and closed as she seemed to suddenly be overtaken by a fishlike surprise. Her offense at his weird choice to have sex in her bed was warranted, he never took issue with that. 

Would have been happy to talk it out, get pointers on his performance. 

The anger seethed when he saw the last clip. That felt like a betrayal. He wasn’t sure of what. He couldn’t put it into words, but he felt like he didn’t need to. It seemed like a pretty per se situation. 

“I was just curious. If you liked your room.”

“Well, you could have stopped watching.”

“You were talking about me!”

“I don’t think that’s how anyone would characterize it.”

The two stared at each other, hard. Brows furrowed on both faces, hands clenched in some way or fashion. 

“You should have turned it off, Y/N. I…” he took a second to look down at his hands, slowly unravel the tension in his knuckles. “I don’t know what to do now. I’m sorry, I guess.” 

She looked remorseful, but not in any way more substantial than being caught with your hand down a cookie jar. 

She kept silent. His head hung low. They let the silence linger for a second. 

Then, out of the crisp static of the giant apartment, cut the sound of her limbs slicing through the tense air. 

With a gulp, her fingers came up tentatively to graze either side of his neck. Though he didn’t wish to, he had to raise his ashamed gaze to try to read her face, but before he could, she had already wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her tip toes to slowly but firmly hug him. 

He was engulfed in that sweet smell of her. She didn’t say anything, and suddenly, he felt no shame. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her back, unconsciously trying to pull her in tighter but there was nowhere else for her body to go. 

He felt every inch and crevice of her body press against his, and beneath his closed eyes, he could conjure up a vivid image. Maybe Y/N felt a similar sense of curiosity because she slowly pulled away to look at him. 

Wide eyes, always wide. Always curious. 

Without speaking, her fingers found the hem of his t-shirt and began to lift it. Jungkook would have taken the damn thing off himself if he had been with any other girl, but he was just as curious about her. He felt like surrendering, just this once. 

So, he let her, without intervention, pull the shirt off of him. She retreated back to the wall right after that, and stared at him like she was unsure of the next step, but it never felt abrupt. He felt himself in a daze, in a dream. 

And he’d had dreams like this, so he wouldn’t be shocked. 

With the same gentle attention, he peeled his own shirt off of her. She had one of her signature tanks underneath, and he couldn’t bear to take that off of her yet. 

She shivered but the room wasn’t much colder, and he found himself hugging her again, closer than they’d ever been. 

It took a second before she softened into him, her cheek laying on his arm.

“You’re warm,” she mumbled, her words tickling his skin as she spoke. Her nails wrapped around his bicep, digging in to balance herself as she peeled off to stare up at him. “You’ve always been really warm.”

He kept looking at her. He couldn’t stop - he had no idea what he looked like - angry? enchanted? sad? 

She shifted her weight to her other foot and pushed up on her toes again, making him lean back instinctively.

Scared?

“What happens next?” 

Her voice became but a whisper, and it scratched against her throat. With the shirt gone, he now came to realize that she was in. 

Her. 

Black.

Panties. 

His stomach churned, out of turn and in rage of his sudden rush of desire. He dove his head into her neck, tried to drown it out with her scent, but she giggled against the intrusion and it made him sicker. 

He was off of her sooner than he thought possible. 

He had to take breaths before he could straighten up, and his chest was tight. His throat clenched, and there it was. Not again. 

He was 13. She was 11. 

—

Jungkook was never a fan of cardio. Not at 13, at least. And more than that, he hated getting yelled at, at an ungodly octave at 7 am after doing the most cardio his body has ever done. 

With sweat dripping off of his forehead, he was subject to his first 30 minute “professional critique” session. It was a voice lesson mind you….

He made it out of the practice room with his soul in pieces and his body barely intact, but by some sober wisdom, he managed to drag himself into a supply closet. The stench of cigarettes and wet mops flooded his nose, and he felt it. His chest tightened, his throat closed in on itself, and his face grew warm, so warm. 

To top the whole charade off, out of the shadowy shelves stocking toilet paper crawled out a tiny girl. Dark hair, wide eyes, bare feet. 

She looked like a ghost. 

She held a book and a small android phone and was too busy rubbing the sleep out of her eyes to notice the state of him. 

“Ever heard of knocking?” 

The witty slide was lost somewhere between the wheeze he let out before crouching into a corner, everything getting worse with the panic. 

“Oh my god, are you okay??”

He shook his head. Slowly at first as he rocked his body back and forth, but something compelled him to turn around and violently shake his head at her, eyes brimmed with tears. 

On the cusp of his death, he could make out the laugh she was trying to stifle. 

“What’s wrong?” her voice was soft as she was small. Not short, just lanky. Maybe small was the wrong word, but he wasn’t getting oxygen in his brain so give him a break. 

“I’m…” he choked, forcefully swallowing a gulp of air.. “I don’t know!”

“Oh god, shut up!” her hand collapsed around his mouth and with an inexplicable amount of strength, she pushed him further into the filthy, smelly room, making his head whirl. 

“First of all,” she seethed, her dark eyes shining in the dim light of the closet, “you’re fine. I can feel you breathing your nasty snot on my hand, so don’t worry - you’re breathing.” 

He wanted to bite her hand, but suddenly, an ounce of weight was lifted off his chest, he felt his lungs move a little. 

“Second of all,” she continued, choosing to emphasize her point by digging her shoe into his toes. He groaned against her hand and wished she had the foresight to give him the demand before she persisted with the torture. The reverse wasn’t very productive. “... some of us nap in this room. If they find out I’m in here with you, I am never going to debut, and I am never going to get out of this god forsaken country.” 

He felt himself tear up again, and he found no more relief in her words. The weight was back and heavier. 

“Ok, ok, stop. Sorry.” 

The change in her tone was maniacal. She flipped so quick from sounding like his voice coach (who he despised) to his mother (whom he missed dearly). 

“You’re having a panic attack. If they find out about it, they’ll drop you. So, you need to get it together.”

Immediate panic.

“That probably made things worse. Let’s try again. What’s your name?”

He waited for her to slowly pull her hand away, not all the way, but it generously rested at his chin. 

“J-Jungkook.”

“Hi, Jungkook. I’m Y/N.”

“I- I don’t care.” He spittled before collapsing down to rest his hands on his knees. 

“Ok, noted.” He felt her tap his back, rhythmic and solid. “You’re having a panic attack. You think you can’t breathe. You can breathe. You think you’re going to die. You’re not going to die. You think you need to run, scream. You don’t. You need a distraction.”

And distraction it was to be lectured by a sixth grader, so Jungkook stood up straight, ignored the pains in his chest and everywhere else and attempted to muster an insult back, but before he could - 

She kissed him. 

A quick, wet peck against his lips, eyes squeezed shut and face looking ridiculous. 

It was over as soon as it had happened. 

Suddenly, his nose picked up on the slight peppermint scent emanating from the toilet cakes. He noticed how neat everything was in the closet. 

And the lanky girl in front of him…

She smelled nice. 

“That was gross.”

“Healed ya.” 

Something told him that he was never going to be able to wipe that smirk off of her face. And before he could pull her hair, or kick her in the shin, she jumped out of the closet, and shut it quickly behind her. In a single moment, a whole charade of adult noises flooded the hallway and a whole tirade of badgering followed. 

—

“Oh, god, Jungkook -”

“Stop.”

She was trying to come closer, but his head was spinning enough. It was spinning enough. He felt three lifetimes drain out of him by the time he got himself to sit on her bed, but it was all hell, and it was like he couldn’t escape all of it. All of the women, the knowing that she had watched, presumably all of it. 

What about the time, with the 30 year old redhead, when he made her put on Y/N’s clothes? The tank with the shorts..

“Can.. can you open the windows?” 

He crashed back against her sheets as she hurried to push her green curtains to the side to crank open the windows as much as she could in the high rise. 

He stared at her ceiling, baby cherubs and the entire chapel wallpapered to her ceiling. Except it wasn’t. Some of it was carved, gold frugally throughout. 

Her room definitely did not look like his. Her room was a lot of bright colors, antique furniture from Europe or old American movie stars, and carpeted throughout in soft, camel color. It was like the 50s and the 70s threw up into a master suite. 

It was like a cocoon stitched of all of her costumes - various personas she’s sifted through with each comeback, each project. 

He closed his eyes, inhaled through his nose. 

“You realize that your house looks ridiculous, right?”

“Have you gotten medicated for that yet?”

“You should have,” he took another deep inhale, “kept it. How your designer had it. She knew what she was doing.”

“You haven’t gotten any better at holding it in. I’m surprised they haven’t medicated you yet -”

“They have, Y/N. They have. It’s just not enough sometimes and you…”

“I’m not the problem.” 

She was quick. 

“I can’t believe you let them do that to you.”

Jungkook stayed silent, trying to still his chest, but everything felt so infinitely out of his reach under these cathedral skies. 

In his daze, he hadn’t noticed that she had crossed the room until he felt the bed sink next to him. The touch of her leg against his made made his hands clench, but he somehow found the courage to sit up. 

“You power through it, but you don’t hold it in. That’s why they medicated you.” She mumbled, leaning down to peel one of her socks off. 

“What about you then?” he asked, breaths still only coming in through his nose. He was lightly bewildered, but his head felt like it was coming off of a fever, ready to enter another one. “God, Y/N what are you doing?”

She peeled the other sock off. 

She didn’t acknowledge him until she scooted back on the bed - as large as his - and climbed under the sheets. Only then, in the comfort of the bed, which had materialized around her like the rings of Saturn, hypnotizing him in, did his chest finally, at once, release its shackles. 

She looked up at him. 

Her wide eyes were slimmed to a softer yet darker stare and her hair had a sultry tease to it. He could hear the siren’s calls.

“Just come in…”

“Y/N, this is weird.”

He didn’t mean to sound petty when he said that. 

“I’m sorry if you were mad about that. I remember, you know.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Yes, you were. Just come in. We used to share the bed when I couldn’t sneak out of your hotel room. It’s soothing to sleep with another body around.”

He hesitated for a second further, not for any physical restraint. 

“How do you know that?”

“I read it somewhere.” 

He rolled his eyes and stood up to crawl into the very opposite side she was on, but the bed was cold, unnaturally cold, and he couldn’t stop shivering. 

His chattering teeth were uncharacteristically loud in the silence of her room, a vintage grandfather clock ticking somewhere in the four corners. 

“Jungkook -” 

“I’m fine.”

Another bout of silence, he continued to chatter. Something in him had paralyzed him from stretching out his limbs to warm the cloth. 

“Seriously -”

“If I touch you, I’m going to have another panic attack.”

“I’m cold.” 

Through his own chattering, he had been deaf to hers, but bracing his body for a second allowed him to feel her body shaking behind him. He looked back, only to find that she had her back to him, too, but even through the insanely heavy duvet on her bed, he could see her shoulders vibrating the slightest bit. 

Whatever he was feeling in his chest was no mind, no matter now. All he could focus on was his composure as he reached over and pulled her back into his chest, trying to leave as much space as he could between their hips.

Her breath hitched, and her hand grabbed at his, gripping her stomach as it pulled her in. She didn’t let go when he tried to pull it away, and he didn’t resist much. She brought it up to cuddle her cheek against it. 

Without question, missing their mothers, they had slept like this on so many nights when their hotel sleepovers went too long or the nightly manager controls left them stranded at the gym, unable to sneak back into their dorms. 

So, the position was more than natural, and yet it was something new. 

Because it was a cat’s nightly necessity back then, and he would have been better off cuddling a twig for some action, and they didn’t have to think twice about it. Sometimes, they’d wake up with their faces too close together, but that was easily solved by a shove or a punch and a quick adjustment. 

But this felt like a nuclear bomb and anything could have been a trigger. Her soft breath against the arm she was cuddling, his mouth buried into her hair, and her body - full and healthy against him. 

All of this bare skin. 

“Why are you so tense?” Y/N asked, and her tone was pointed, pleased. It stirred him, and he felt the nausea release, fizzle into the air and back to where it came from. The hunger started to take it over. 

“Go to sleep, Y/N,” he tried not to beg. Not that it would soften her. 

“I’m not really sleepy.”

“It’s like 2 am.”

“Not sleepy.” she whined, attempting to turn around to face him but he kept a stern hand on her shoulder, keeping her still.

“Don’t.”

“Whyyy….”

The whine dragged and she easily pushed off his grip and turned around, leaving but a hand’s distance between their faces. 

He groaned and extended his arms out, trying to push her away, but she fought it - credit to her, she really didn’t seem to be very sleepy.

“God, Y/N, just share the bed equally.”

A couple of more tussles later, they had managed to drift off to sleep in their separate corners, the bed all warmed up from their incessant fighting. But when they woke up, they had found their way back to the middle - pillows and blanket entangled, limbs twisted into unnecessary pretzels. 

It was a whole ceremony, coming to that morning. 

He first opened his eyes to find her face down into his extended arm, one leg squeezed in between his, the blanket clear over her head. 

Through a groggy vision, he readjusted his arm and pulled her head above the covers. The next time he woke up, her face was resting on his chest, and they were sharing a pillow, the other three were discarded somewhere by their feet. 

The third time, he felt more sober, and his eyes opened wider, she was snoring on his arm, hair covering her eyes. 

He cleared his throat and awkwardly reached over to brush it away, the small move making her eyes flutter open. 

That was her first time, she was almost still in sleep as she stared at him. 

“Good morning,” he whispered, breath too raspy to pronounce every vowel. She twisted onto her stomach, fists stretched out into a big yawn, before she twisted into a little ball inside the crevice. 

She seemed to quickly drift back into sleep, and he was aware of how malleable it made her. And he reached over, in the comfort of the warmth of the morning, and pulled her back against his chest, snuggled his hand against her cheek scratched lightly lightly against her scalp, as if petting a cat. 

“You’re going to choke me with your fat arms,” she murmured, shoving his hand down, but he opted to rest it on her waist, fingers curling around to hold her tight like a belt. 

One thing about Y/N was that she was much more shy in the morning light. Her mania slept in at night. 

She immediately pressed both hands down on his arm, trying to get him to release the grip, and he didn’t resist it, but didn’t let her push it off all the way. He retreated just enough to push his hand underneath her tank top, fingers splaying over her abdomen. 

“What are you doing?” She was drowning with doubt. The girl that would have let it all happen the night before was too shy for her belly button in the sunshine.

His middle finger circled it, intentionally, making her squirm right against him - morning hard. 

Her breath hitched, her whole body froze, and he didn’t care. 

She was 18, and he was 20, and he decided that they needed to release some of the steam or they would explode. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, his mouth pushing through her messy hair to press tight against her ear. “Did you watch it all?”

A gulp, followed by silence, and what he could imagine to be a flat mouth. 

“You did. I won’t ask why.” He kissed the top of her ear, she shuddered against him. He could feel himself digging into the very bottom of her back, too prominent now to deny, and he had the gall to readjust her so that he could rest himself right between her thighs, digging up into her warm, radiating center. 

“Were you curious, Y/N?” he asked, betraying his very last words. “You don’t have to answer,” he tried in an attempt to remediate, but she didn’t seem responsive to anything he said. Only his hand, which was now tip-toeing its way - one gentle touch after another - down to the hem of her boyshorts, his calloused nails catching on a loose string. Her hips twitched at the light touch, and when his fingers grazed over the same spot again, he could tell that the very least it tickled her, and more importantly, at the very least, it got her to initiate contact. 

Leaning back against him more intentionally now, he could tell that she could feel him, and he didn’t shy away from it, hummed for it, even - closed his eyes and silently begged for it.

And she obliged. If she had any experience, it was hard to tell, but this heavy reassurance that she didn’t, that drove him crazier than any skilled reciprocation could have. 

Her movements were small but the intent was clear, from the way she tilted her head to the side, trying to bury her face in the bedding, to the immediate shortness of her breath. 

As his arms wrapped around her, one forever running his fingers back and forth on her lower abdomen, the other curled up to cradle her face as he grinded into her, dragging his length against her, feeling her grow warm and wet through 

The plain, meaningless cloths separating them - too thin to to really barricade them from each other. 

His lips were in her hair, on her cheek, kissing alongside the back of her ear - everywhere, just everywhere - and his hands felt bursts of fire, of insatiable curiosity, and he couldn’t help it. 

As much as not looking her in the eyes helped make it easier to touch her, he couldn’t kick it anymore. He needed to know - her face, her lips, her eyes, her expression - where was she? What did she want?

Pushing her onto her back, to which she was so pliable, he crawled over her, lips slotting against hers as if this was routine, and if we’re talking dreams, then, sure, he was a pro.

He was, for simply a lack of better word, all over her. 

When her hands initially came down to cup his cheeks, he couldn’t stand it. He held onto her wrists and pushed them above her head, pressing them down onto the bed, but one glimpse at her like that made him groan, blush, release, and let her dig her hands around. She settled on his hair, fingers immediately curling and tugging, some sick instinct she’s always had, but in this context, it was nauseatingly charming and needy, and he groaned again, into her mouth this time, and grabbed her hands again, bringing them down in between them so he could stare at her as he kissed them - her fingers, her palms, her wrists. She started to giggle - just a hint of it, little quips - so he smiled back and put them down, felt pulled to and landed a peck on her forehead.

“I’m sorry for what I did here.” he whispers, face pulled into an innocent pout that makes her forget about the weight between his legs. “I’m sick. I’ll never do it again.”

“It’s fine,” she whispers back, voice raspy and cheeks glowing. Eyes low, tired still. 

“I’ll stick to my apartment. Or, maybe just my room. If I must.”

She thinks his words through, feels him calming down. Her eyes blink heavily, as if registering that the moment is done, the affection is coming to a close.

But the steam is out, for now, floating about around them. 

“If you must.” she repeats, tossing the words in her mouth as if she didn’t mean to say them.

He gets up without much flare after that, feels lighter even, and manages to ignore the death star that Y/N has become on the bed, face drained of her smile, eyes drained of the devilish charm - an unrequited exasperation. 

He offers plans for next week, maybe a movie night - haven’t had one in four years, wouldn’t it be nice? You’re both Korean celebrities now, maybe you can get back to hanging out like you used to. You don’t have anything coming up, right?

She stares at him across the kitchen island, as if the proposal never reached her ears. She says, almost independently, not in response to anything he’s ever said -

“I have to go see an apartment in LA.”

His spoon clanks into his bowl, and he flinches because that’s how his rambling probably sounded. 

What happened in that bed for Jungkook was supposed to be the beginning.

“An apartment. A second one.” He quips, eyes following his spoon as he stirs it into the milk. They should’ve ordered a Korean breakfast. She should have had one before she left. When was the last time she had a proper breakfast? Not crepes in Paris, not fantuan in Taiwan… 

He looks up, her back is to the kitchen island, and her face is but a reflection in the cloudy Seoul skyline blinking in the daylight through her windows. 

It’s raining. 

“Why do you need to find an apartment in LA?”

She barely looks over her shoulder, barely moves her lips. 

But the moment she heard the pilot’s announcement that they were in São Paulo, translated into Portuguese, it was enough. Tears filled her eyes instantly.

They weren’t tears of sadness. It felt more like she was looking at her 15-year-old self again, finally closing the circle she had opened eight years ago, when she left for Korea to chase something that, back then, still felt so far away.

Sophia, who had heard countless times how much Isa missed home, how she had been counting the days to come back, only smiled softly, her hand moving to Isa’s back in a gentle, grounding touch. She knew this wasn’t the ideal return, not the way Isa had probably imagined it. It was quick, rushed, just one stop in a packed schedule.

Still… it was Brazil. 

As the staff began gathering their things, the rest of the girls slowly woke up, stretching and getting ready for landing. Isa, meanwhile, had her phone out, recording everything through the small airplane window, like she was afraid she might forget a single detail.

“Finally.” she whispered to Sophia. 

Their reactions, once they landed, were immediate. They all looked for her. Lara was the first to reach her, pulling her into a tight hug. Megan and Yoonchae followed right after, asking softly how she was feeling, while Daniela, of course, was already recording everything, capturing every second of Isa’s reaction like she knew it mattered.

As soon as they passed through immigration and collected their bags, heading toward the exit where their van was waiting, Isa froze, facing hundreds of people, right there, in the waiting area, holding signs, waving Brazil’s flags and calling their names. Calling her name. 

She didn’t even try to hide this time. She covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head like she couldn’t quite believe it. 

“ISA! ISA! ISA!”

“Eu te amo, Isa!” 

“Isa, gostosa!” 

“Isa, bem-vinda!” 

It echoed through the space, layered with other voices, other names, but hers stood out to her in a way nothing else did. Daniela let out a small ‘oh my God’ beside her, her phone already up, capturing everything.

“Why are they so loud?” Megan laughed, half shocked, half amazed.

Isa just shook her head again, smiling through tears.

They tried to keep moving, guided by staff, but it was impossible not to slow down. There were hands reaching out, phones lifting, signs written in Portuguese, some messy, some careful, but all of them hers. 

“ISA, EU TE AMO!”

“EU TAMBÉM!” she answered without thinking, her voice breaking a little as she waved.

On the way out, she took some letters and a Brazil flag with some instagrams she’d make sure to look out later, recognizing some of them as her fanclubs.  

Even as they finally made their way outside, into the van, the noise didn’t fade completely. It followed them. Isa leaned her head back against the seat, letting out a long breath, a little overwhelmed.

“Say something, girl.” Daniela said, turning a camera toward her. The moment caught Isa cleaning her tears with a napkin someone had given her. “This is your moment.” 

“I don’t even know what to say.” she mumbled, looking at the camera, making the people inside the van laugh at her reaction. “I wasn’t expecting this much love. I’m just more excited for the show now.” 

By the time they got to the hotel, Isa was exhausted. Not physically, well, a little, but from everything else. The heat, the noise, the emotions, everything feeling bigger than it should. 

The girls and their managers were still talking as they walked through the hallway, Dani replaying some videos from the airport while Megan laughed at something Lara had said, with Yoonchae half-listening but staying close to Isa, who was going to be her roommate. 

Isa just smiled, nodding along. 

“I’m gonna…” she pointed to her room, voice softer now. “Shower, reset a bit, before meeting you to go to the rehearsal.” 

“Yeah, go.” Missy, who was checking something on her phone, waved. “We’ll eat dinner out and we need some opinions on the foods.” 

Isa nodded, offering them a small smile before turning toward her and Toonchae’s room, with the girl next to her. For a second, she just stood there, then, she swiped the car, pushing the door open while she carried her bag. 

“Surpresa!” 

Isa froze. For a second, her brain didn’t catch up. It didn’t make sense. Well, it couldn’t make sense. Isa’s hometown was in another state, over 24 hours away from São Paulo. But then, the voices she hadn’t heard in almost two years, the last time she had a chance to come home, that close, her name, said the way only they said it. 

“Isa!” 

“Mãe!” she dropped her bag to the floor, moving before she even finished. 

Her mother reached her first, pulling her into a hug so tight it knocked the air out of her. The kind of hug that doesn’t ask permission, the kind that says everything at once. And that’s when Isa broke.

Not with the quiet tears from the plane and definitely not the controlled ones from the airport. Her shoulders shook as she buried her face into her mother’s shoulder, holding onto her like she was afraid she’d disappear if she let go.

Looking over her mother’s shoulder, she caught sight of her sister, the reason she had even started dreaming about all of this in the first place, and without thinking, she reached for her too, pulling her into the hug.

And, just like that, they were all there. 

She pulled back just enough to see her mom waving toward the door. When she turned around, all the girls were already running toward them, laughter filling the room as they wrapped themselves into the hug too.

“You knew it!” Isa screamed, before feeling her members’ hug. 

“Of course we knew!” Dani answered her, making her members and the staff on the door laugh. 

Her mom laughed softly, brushing Isa’s hair back, still holding her close. Even though she knew her mom had no idea what they were saying, she could feel it.

“Do you think we would make this without any help?” she teased. Isa frowned slightly, confused, still catching her breath. “Even Namjoon knew it too.” her mom added, almost casually.

There was a split second, and Isa blinked, then she laughed, quick, a little too quick, shaking her head as she hid her face back into her mom’s shoulder. The girls, of course, didn’t miss the reaction.

Lara poked her side, while Megan reached over to mess up her hair, both already laughing.

“I have no idea what she said,” Dani chimed in, biting her finger dramatically. “but I definitely heard ‘Namjoon’.”

The laughter in the room lingered for a moment longer, the teasing slowly settling into something softer. Isa stayed there for a second more, still holding onto her mom, like she wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

But she knew she had to.

Her mom quickly filled her in: where they were staying, what their plans were, how they were going to the concert. Isa nodded along, trying to take it all in, but her mind kept drifting back to the fact that they were there. Still, she had to work.

When Missy called from the door, reality slipped back in. 

Isa pulled away slowly, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, still smiling as she looked at them one more time.

“I’ll see you later?” she asked, her voice softer now.

“Of course.” Maria, her sister, nodded with a small smile.

✦ FLYING FISH STAGE | LOLLAPALOOZA, são paulo - brazil

From the moment the girls arrived at the Interlagos Circuit, where Lollapalooza Brasil was being held, they were busy. They had so many interviews in portuguese, that, on top of everything she was already used to, Isa found herself struggling to switch back to English when talking to the girls.

As showtime got closer, though, she could feel the butterflies building in her stomach. She had bumped into a few fans earlier, all of them so respectful that, for a moment, Isa felt like she was just talking to friends.

But now, it was time. Time for her to do what that younger version of herself had left home for.

From backstage, Isa could already hear the chants.

“KATSEYE! KATSEYE! KATSEYE!”

She stood still for a second, adjusting her in-ear monitors, her fingers moving automatically while her mind tried to catch up.

“You good?” Yoonchae asked, stepping closer, gently brushing her arm.

Isa nodded, offering her a small smile.

“Yeah… just a bit anxious.”

“Don’t be. This is your home.” Yoonchae said softly.

Isa pouted immediately.

“Don’t do this to me, Yoonchip.” she whined, pulling her into a quick hug, while Yoonchae laughed at her reaction. 

“Isa! Yoonchae! It’s time!” Sohey, their performance director, called out.

The girls quickly made their way back, joining the group hug led by Sophia.

“Okay, girls. One more night, one more concert,” she started. “This time, in a very special place for one of us.” she tapped Isa’s shoulder lightly. The girls smiled at her. “Let’s make the fans proud and Isa’s family even prouder for trusting us. Let’s not get hurt, and let’s look after each other, alright?”

“Alright!” the girls answered together.

The girls pulled away from the group hug, hands still stacked for a second longer before separating.

The noise outside felt louder now.

A staff member signaled from the side of the stage. Two minutes. Isa quickly took her phone and checked Namjoon’s last message, wishing her good luck. She gave her phone back to her manager.She waved to her mom and sister before heading to the wing of the stage. 

Isa exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders back, grounding herself the way she always did before going on stage.

“Ready?” Dani asked, nudging her side.

Isa nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s do this.”

The lights dropped and there was a second of darkness before they finally got on stage, placing for the intro of Debut, the crowd exploding only by their silhouettes. There were not just creams or cheers. It was a living sound, messy and unfiltered, just like Isa imagined it would be. 

Isa stepped into formation, her body moving alone, every step landing exactly where it needed to. But her eyes were scanning the crowd, trying to spot where that ocean of phones, flags and signs would end. Yet, she couldn’t spot it. That was definitely their biggest crowd. 

‘Debut’ passed in a blur of movement and sound, Isa still feeling numb with all those people screaming her name. As the dance back got to an end and the introduction encore would begin, the fans started screaming even louder when the girls aligned to talk to the public.

“São Paulo! Eu amo vocês!” Dani shouted, her voice full of energy. 

The others followed, taking turns, thanking the crowd, hyping them up, their voices blending with the noise around them. Lara was the first one, then Sophia, Dani took some extra time talking about her latin roots and some phrases Isa has taught her, Megan and Yoonchae following next. 

Isa stayed a step behind, paying attention to her members with her mic still in hand, breathing slower now. Once Yoonchae was done, she glanced at Isa, stepping aside, as if saying ‘your turn’. 

The crowd didn’t even need a cue.

“ISA, EU TE AMO! ISA, EU TE AMO!”

The girl let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking her head as she stepped forward. She lifted her mic and lowered it again. 

“I don’t think I’m ready for this.” she told the girls, already feeling the tears running down, uncontrollable. 

Sophia left her position to stay right next to her, caressing her back, while the other girls scooped in closer. The crowd answered loudly. 

Isa pressed her lips together for a second, nodding to herself like she was trying to keep it together. 

Isa pressed her lips together for a second, nodding to herself like she was trying to keep it together.

“I… I don’t even know where to start. Hm… oi, gente, eu sou a Isabelí!” she said in Portuguese.

The reaction from the crowd was immediate and loud.

“I’m just so, so happy to be here. You have no idea.” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “I left Brazil when I was 15 to chase a dream that felt so far away from reality.” she pointed gently toward the crowd. “Looking at you guys and thinking back to December 2019, when I got on that plane to Korea…” she let out a small breath, shaking her head slightly. “It feels like I’m living a full-circle moment right now. And I’m so grateful to finally be doing what I left my country for.” her smile softened. “I want you guys to know that, even if it took me some time to come home, there’s not a single day I don’t miss Brazil. Not a day goes by that I don't talk about our culture, our people, and how much I want to come back.” 

The crowd roared again. Louder than before. Isa let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking her head as she wiped quickly under her eye.

“Thank you for welcoming me and my girls like this. Really.” she added softly. “I hope you guys enjoy what we’ve been preparing for you.”

And that was it. Isa stepped back. 

For a second, she just stood there, taking them in one last time, before the girls rushed toward her. Lara was the first, wrapping her arms around Isa’s shoulders without hesitation.

“You did so good!” she half-shouted, half-laughed into her ear.

Megan followed right after, squeezing them both into the hug, while Dani and Yoonchae joined, turning it into a tight, messy group pile. Isa laughed into it, a little breathless, still emotional, her hand coming up to hold onto whoever she could reach.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me cry again!” she mumbled, voice still shaky.

“Too late!” Dani teased, pulling back just enough to look at her face. “You already did.”

The girls laughed, the tension finally breaking into something lighter. Sophia clapped her hands once, stepping forward with a smile.

“Okay! Before we all start crying on stage,” she said, glancing at Isa. “let’s keep this going.”

The crowd cheered again, already picking up on the shift. Isa wiped her cheeks one last time, taking a breath, forcing her smile to settle into something more stable.

Sophia turned back to the audience, lifting her mic.

“São Paulo,” she called out, her voice strong again, “are you ready for the next one?”

The answer came instantly.

“NOOOOOO!”

The girls laughed.

Isa shook her head, stepping back into formation, her body already switching gears.

“Then let’s make it worth it.” Dani added with a grin.

He wanted her to have something to hold.

They had spotted this plushie shop a while before they had gone to the soundcheck with Mingyu promising they’d come back to look after the concert. It only felt right to get her something from there.

The shop was too bright.

Mingyu stood in front of the rows and rows of plushies, eyes skimming through each section until his eyes caught on to the ridiculous shark. It was sitting awkwardly in the midst of other sea creature themed stuffed animals with its mouth stitched like a crooked grin.

It was huge. Ridiculously huge.

Riko would love it.

And she did.

She hugged it tight when he gave it to her. Held it close each time the nurse came in to check on her. 

The worry set in the next day when they came in to remove her chest tube. 

She asked for Seungcheol.

He wasn’t upset that she chose Seungcheol, he knew why.

Seungcheol has always been for them, Seungcheol comes with this warmth that feels like a long hug in times of need. A grounding figure in a storm.

But he also knew she chose seungcheol because she was scared. 

She was scared of the procedure but even more worried about Mingyu.

She didn't want him to see her in pain.

She’s always done that.

Hiding away until it has passed then finally admitting to her struggles.

He had spent most the night looking through videos and articles about collapsed lungs and rib fractures to the point that he could possibly do the procedure himself. The videos gave him this horrible feeling of dread especially knowing that Riko would be going through that made him feel even more helpless.

He stood outside the room with the other members, waiting patiently for the procedure to be done. 

“Don’t stress Mingyu…it’ll only make her feel worse” Wonwoo pushed him to sit on the bench next to him and Seokmin. 

Riko’s aunt and brother patted his shoulder then told him they’re going to look for something Riko would like to eat .

When Seungcheol came out of the room, Mingyu was relieved, getting up from the chair eager to know everything.

“She’s okay, they’re dressing her wound and getting her a new gown” he continued “She cried but there were no other complications” Cheol gave him a small smile before going to find her brother.

When he went in the room again she was fitted with a brace over her clothes. For a minute all he wanted was some time alone. Just the two of them but he knew it wasn't possible now, just hold on a little longer. 

That night, Mingyu stayed overnight instead of Riko’s Aunt and brother. She was fitted with her vest, laying while watching something on the television.

They hadn't talked much.

Just pleasant silence.

Until he heard sniffling.

Mingyu got up immediately, going to stand next to her as she looked up at him with tears filling up her eyes. 

“I’m sorry” she mumbled, gripping her shark plushie so tight. Her shoulders trembled slightly, breath uneven in a way that made his chest ache

“No, what are you sorry” his voice softer than he intended as he sat down slowly on her bed, giving her time to push him away if she wanted to. 

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face now. He put his arms around her, careful not to hurt her more. 

“I ruined everything. The tour and and all the plans I–” a sob cut her off, she turned her face away covering it with her hands. 

“Baby” Mingyu tried even more gently, hands pausing before around her wrists “Can..you look at me?”

Her breathe hitched again before her voice broke “You’re supposed to be enjoying our last night here, but now you’re stuck here because of me” 

He frowned immediately. 

“Hey. No, look at me please ” he said firmly. She lowered her hands, her eyes were with lashes clumped together and her lip caught between her teeth so tight he worried it’d draw blood.

“You didn’t ruin anything” he said quietly, hands cupping her face

“Bu—” 

“I want to be here” He insisted, the helpless ache sitting deep in his chest. 

“I want to be with you” 

Her gaze dropped, trying not to look him in the eye but Mingyu knew better tilting her face.

“I’m serious, you think I'd rather be at the hotel? Knowing you’re here hurting” 

He leaned slowly, resting his forehead against hers.

“I want to be here with you…I’m worried because I love you” giving her a quick kiss on her nose then laying down, pulling her as well.

“I just..I hate feeling like this” she admitted “like I can’t even breathe without help”

He tightened his grip slightly

“I know,” he said quietly. “But you’re still getting through it”

She let out a shaky breath, the tension leaving her shoulders as she leaned on to him properly.

The room fell into a quiet silence as she drifted off to sleep, one arm around the shark while the other held on to his.

Bangkok February 2026

It hasn’t been long since her accident but it feels like eternity since he last saw her. 

Riko had been staying at her family home in Japan with her brother and aunt, going through recovery. She face timed Mingyu every night, her head peeking from the blanket as she dozed off when he spoke. 

But

The past week was rough, they barely texted each other with his energy drained from touring and hers from physio.

He had gotten a “fighting” from her in the group chat before the concert.

The cheers from fans kept his adrenaline going jumping up and down, spraying the water on carats all filled him with joy. But he loved the idea of flying home to Riko even better.

To help take care of her

Wake up with her in his arms or vice versa

Making her breakfast and accompanying her to physio

It all filled him with eagerness but also unease

Would she be okay? 

How long till her lungs are strong again?

Would she want him to help?

All the thoughts flooded into him in the changning room after the final stop but it all halted when he stepped out to absolute ruckus.

Members talking over each other all crowded giving hugs asking questions

“When did you get here?”

“Are you okay!?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Did you come alone?”

He heard a small laugh 

Her laugh.

Riko stood in the middle, slightly pale and tired.

“I’m okay, I promise” she reassured, nodding quickly. “I just got here, I wanted to surprise you guys” 

“You flew?” Wonwoo asked, voice gentle but face worried

She nodded.

“I got cleared” she added quickly “I wouldn’t have come, if I wasn't"

Seungcheol came forward giving her a hug “ You’ll tell us if you feel worse yeah?” 

She gave him a hum before her eyes locked onto Mingyu, moving away from Seungcheol

“Hi” she giggled standing infront of him, slightly nervous from the look on his face. 

“Let’s give them a minute” and the members left, leaving the two of them alone. 

“What are you doing here?” asking, his tone mixed with worry but sounding a lot harsher than he intended.

Riko’s smile dropped slightly, “I wanted to see you guys..”

 Mingyu’s jaw tightened slightly, running a hand through his hair as he looked at her properly.

Up close, he could see it.

The faint shadows under her eyes, the way she was holding herself just a little too carefully, like every movement was measured.

“You flew,” he repeated, quieter this time. Not angry. Just…processing.

Riko shifted her weight, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

“I missed you,” she said simply.

“How..What are you doing here?!? You should be resting?”  his voice wasn’t loud but it wasnt soft either, more controlled and on edge

“My doctor” her smile completely gone, looking more worried 

“And he thought it was a good idea?” 

“ I thought you’d be happy” she admitted, voice slightly shaky

He froze.

“I..I am happy” he said finally, but the words came out unevenly, like they got caught somewhere on the way out.

Riko’s brows pulled together slightly.

“That doesn’t sound like it,” she said quietly.

Mingyu shut his eyes for a second, exhaling through his nose. His hand dragged down his face before he looked at her again.

“I missed you,” she repeated, quieter. “And I didn’t want to sit at home feeling useless anymore.”

His jaw tightened slightly at that.

“You’re not useless.”

“That’s not how it feels,” she admitted, her voice small but steady. “Everyone’s moving on and I’m just… stuck trying to breathe properly.”

That hit him harder than anything else she’d said.

For a moment, he didn’t respond.

Didn’t argue.

Just looked at her.

“And you think pushing yourself like this is going to fix that?” he asked, softer now.

The door opened before she could respond.

“Okay lovebirds enough chatting, the cars have arrived” Hoshi beamed, putting his arm around Riko’s shoulder walking towards the door. 

She got into the car taking the seat next to the window and Mingyu joined her soon after.

The car ride was quiet.

Not the comfortable kind. The silence was filled with tensions, questions and guilt with the hint of frustration. 

He glanced at her again.

“You’re sitting weird,” he muttered.

Riko blinked, turning her head slightly. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he cut in, softer this time. “Does your side hurt?”

She hesitated for a second too long.

“…a little.”

Mingyu exhaled, looking away, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want to start another lecture,” she said lightly, trying to ease it.

He didn’t smile.

“It’s not a lecture if I’m right.”

That made her go quiet again.

At the hotel, the members naturally split off, voices fading into the hallway until it was just the two of them.

Mingyu opened the door first, stepping aside to let her in.

“Sit,” he said immediately, nodding toward the bed.

Riko let out a small breath, half amused, half tired.

“Yes, doctor.”

He didn’t react to the joke.

She noticed.

Slowly, she sat down, easing herself onto the edge of the bed. The movement was controlled, but not effortless.

Mingyu’s eyes followed the entire thing.

“You’re exhausted,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“ I said I’m fine” she let out a huff of frustration resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his insistent behaviour. 

It didn’t sit right with him

But he didn’t push again.

Instead, he turned away slightly, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to her.

“Drink.”

She took it without arguing this time.

“Thank you.”

Another silence.

Thicker now.

Riko glanced toward the bathroom after a moment.

“I’m going to shower,” she said softly. “I feel gross after the flight.”

Mingyu nodded.

She stood carefully before making her way inside, closing the door behind her.

The room felt too quiet without her.

Mingyu stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair again.

He hated this feeling.

The distance.

Even when she was right here.

He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

He was happy she came.

He just…couldn't get past how fragile it all still felt.

Like one wrong move and she’d end up back in that hospital bed.

He heard heavy breathing and then sniffling making him stand up, worry flooding his veins making his way to the bathroom. He gave a knock

“Riko, you okay?” 

She didn’t respond but he could hear her breathing getting worse like she was struggling. 

“Can I come in?” his hand was already on the door knob waiting for an answer but it didnt come. 

“I’m coming okay?” his voice was soft, all the guilt building up in him

He paused for a minute before opening the door. 

Riko stood there, tears streaming down her face. Her hands were trembling as she struggled with the strap of her brace, tugging at it in frustration.

“This stupid thing won’t come off—” her voice broke, breath uneven.

Mingyu’s expression fell instantly.

He knew it wasn’t just the brace.

It was everything.

“Hey… hey,” he said softly, stepping toward her. “Come here.”

He reached for her hands, gently stopping them from pulling at the strap.

“Let me help, okay?”

His fingers worked more carefully this time, loosening the tension instead of forcing it.

The strap gave way.

Riko let out a shaky breath.

And that was it.

Mingyu didn’t think twice.

He pulled her into his chest, one arm wrapping around her carefully, the other steadying her.

“Hey… it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice softer than before. “I’ve got you.”

Riko didn’t say anything at first.

She just clutched onto him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as her breathing came in short, uneven bursts.

Mingyu felt it immediately.

“Hey… slow down,” he murmured, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head gently, guiding her closer against him. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

Her breath hitched again, a quiet sob slipping out before she could stop it.

He held her tight, swaying slightly giving her occasional peckson the top of her head.

“Come on..let’s slow down okay” he murmured into her hair and she gave a tiny nod. 

“In… slow,” he whispered.

He exaggerated his own breathing, steady and controlled.

“…and out.”

Riko tried to follow, but it came out shaky at first.

“That’s okay,” he reassured immediately. “Again.”

His thumb brushed small, grounding circles against her arm.

“In…”

A little better this time.

“…and out.”

The panic didn’t disappear all at once.

But it softened.

Her breathing evened out enough that the sharp edge of it faded, turning into quiet, uneven inhales instead of gasps.

“I’m sorry” she whispered

“Dont do that” he pulled away just enough to look at her properly, cupping her face. 

“You have nothing to apologize for baby, if anyone it should be me apologizing” 

She moved away hiding her face in his shirt hugging tighter “I get why you were angry,maybe it was a bad idea to come here” 

Mingyu let out a sigh “It was wrong of me to yell at you,especually after you came from a flight just to see me” 

He rubbed her back slowly “Do you want to shower?” he asked, loosening her brace when she hummed.

And that’s when he saw it.

Properly.

Not just a glimpse.

Not something half-hidden.

Everything.

The bruising along her ribs.

Faded in places, darker in others. The way it spread wider than he expected. The small, healing scar where the tube had been, still angry against her skin.

And how her frame had changed.

Subtly.

But enough.

His chest tightened so suddenly it almost hurt.

“Riko…” his voice dropped, barely above a whisper.

She stilled.

Immediately aware.

“It looks worse than it is,” she said quickly, instinctively trying to cover it with her hand.

Mingyu gently caught her wrist.

“Don’t.”

Not firm.

Just… soft.

Careful.

She hesitated.

Then let her hand fall.

His fingers hovered for a second before resting lightly against her side—avoiding the worst of the bruising like it was instinct.

“You are the strongest person I know…” he said quietly.

Her eyes filled instantly.

“And I am so, so proud of you.”

Riko’s breath caught.

Like something in her chest had been pulled too tight for too long—and finally snapped.

Her lips parted, but nothing came out at first.

Then—

A sob.

Not sharp like before.

Softer.

Quieter.

But heavier.

“I feel like I've done nothing, everyone is moving on while I’m still stuck” words just tumbling out messy and rushed. 

“I couldn’t breathe on my own, I couldn’t move properly, I needed help for everything. I hate it. I feel so useless”

“Riko.”

Her name, gentle but firm.

That made her stop.

Mingyu tilted her face up slightly, forcing her to look at him—not harshly, just enough that she couldn’t hide.

“You survived something scary,” he said quietly. “That’s not nothing”

She shook her head weakly.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“I know,” he said immediately. “I know it doesn’t.”

His thumb brushed under her eye, wiping away tears carefully. 

“You went through all of that and you’re still standing here”

 Her breathing hitched again.

“And you got on a plane,” he added, softer now, almost in disbelief. “Just to come see me.”

That broke her all over again.

“I missed you,” she cried quietly.

He pulled her into him again, one hand cradling the back of her head, pressing her gently into his shoulder.

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss into her hair. “I know, baby.”

She clung to him, fingers bunching in his shirt, her body shaking slightly with each quiet sob.

“I felt so stuck,” she admitted into his chest. “Like everything just stopped and I was the only one not moving forward.”

“You’re not behind,” he said softly. “You’re healing.”

She let out a shaky breath.

“It doesn’t feel that nice.”

“It will,” he murmured. “Just… not all at once.”

His hand moved slowly up and down her back, steady, grounding.

“You don’t have to rush this,” he continued. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

A pause.

“Not even to me.”

After a few minutes, her breathing started to calm again, settling into something softer.

Tired.

Drained.

Mingyu pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her.

Her cheeks were flushed, lashes damp, but her expression wasn’t as tight anymore.

“Still want that shower?” he asked gently.

She let out a small, breathy laugh.

“…yeah.”

He smiled faintly, reaching up to brush her hair back from her face.

“Okay.”

They showered together, he helped wash her hair and hold her when her side hurt too much. Mingyu stepped out quickly, rushing to get towels and bundling her up quickly then going to help her get dressed.

He moved slowly,careful hands reaching for her clothes, unfolding them, bringing them closer.

“Arms up a little,” he said quietly.

Riko obeyed, wincing just slightly as she lifted them.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered immediately.

“It’s okay,” she shook her head. “It’s not you.”

When the shirt brushed over her side, he paused instinctively.

“Does that hurt?”

“Just a bit…keep going.”

He nodded, continuing carefully until it settled properly.

“There,” he murmured, smoothing the fabric down like it mattered more than it should.

It wasn’t perfect.

But she looked more comfortable.

More like herself.

Next was the brace.

Mingyu hesitated for a second, then glanced at her.

“Okay if I fix this?” he asked.

Riko gave a small nod.

“Yeah.”

He stepped closer again, his hands slower now—more confident than before, but still gentle.

He adjusted the straps, checking the tension, making sure it sat right without pressing too harshly against the bruising.

“How’s that?”

She took a breath.

“…better.”

“Too tight?”

“No.”

“Too loose?”

She shook her head slightly.

“It’s good.”

Mingyu nodded, but still ran his fingers lightly along the edges, double-checking like he didn’t fully trust it.

Only when he was satisfied did he step back.

By the time they made it back to the bed, Riko looked like she could barely keep her eyes open. MIngyu let out a small chuckle “come on time for bed”

She didn’t argue this time.

Just eased herself down carefully, letting out a small breath as she settled against the pillows.

Mingyu adjusted them behind her without being asked, one hand steady at her shoulder.

“Too high?” he asked.

She shook her head slightly.

“It’s okay.”

He moved around to the other side of the bed, climbing in beside her more carefully than usual.

There was a brief pause.

He glanced at her before shifting closer, slow and deliberate, sliding one arm around her.

Not pulling her in right away, just resting there, giving her time.

Riko moved first.

Carefully, she leaned into him, her head finding its place against his chest like it always did. The moment she settled, she let out a quiet breath.

Like she’d been holding it in all day.

Mingyu’s arm tightened slightly around her, his hand resting gently along her side, thumb brushing small, absentminded circles.

“Are you comfortable?” he murmured.

“Mm,” she nodded faintly. “Don’t move.”

He huffed softly, the corner of his lips lifting.

“Wasn’t planning to.”

The room fell quiet.

Not heavy.

Not tense.

Just… still.

Riko’s breathing started to slow again, evening out as she relaxed further into him.

Her fingers, still curled loosely in his shirt, softened their grip little by little.

Mingyu stayed still.

Completely still.

Like even shifting an inch might disturb her.

But his mind didn’t quiet as easily.

His eyes flicked down every few seconds.

Watching.

Listening.

Counting without meaning to.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

After a while, Riko shifted slightly, her breathing catching for just a second.

Mingyu tensed immediately.

“Riko?” he whispered.

No response.

A small sound as she pressed closer, her hand tightening weakly in his shirt.

“…I’m here,” he murmured, softer this time.

Her breathing steadied again.

Slow.

Even.

He let out a quiet breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Taglist : @rosemary-luvs @ami-kay-01 @aevenfics @socksfirst1 @paulina15

i hope thats everyone...i realized someone deactivated the account im guessing? not sure

All pictures are from pinterest, Dividers from @saradika-graphics

please not everything is fictional