sunflowers
wonyoung x male! oc
word count: 7509 words part of the series: driveway saints synopsis: wonyoung has been with her boyfriend that she connected with on discord but after months, of mostly talking online, they decided to have their first in-person date tw: idk? i don't own anybody in this story except the oc and everything written for him
Jang Wonyoung read the message during a short break from a commercial shoot she was filming. She stared at her phone a little longer than necessary, trying to process what exactly Roh Jinwoo had just sent her.
That was it.
Was he asking her out? Technically they had already been dating for months, but with Jinwoo, she could never fully tell. His way of communicating existed somewhere between sincerity and complete internet brainrot.
He was the type to send cat memes at 3 in the morning, dead internet jokes she had to search the meaning of, and old Vines from years ago that somehow still made him laugh. Most of the time, she ended up asking him directly what they meant. Thankfully, he always explained them patiently, never making her feel stupid for not understanding half the references he threw at her but there was usually a flicker of surprise though, like he still found it unbelievable that someone in the same age bracket as him had somehow missed entire corners of internet culture.
Then again, Roh Jinwoo practically lived online.
If Starship Entertainment hadn’t introduced him as one of the co-writers for one of IVE’s b-sides for their new album, Wonyoung genuinely would’ve assumed he was some Twitch streamer who happened to know how to play guitar. Outside of work, he was either glued to an electric guitar or carrying around a Nintendo Switch that seemed permanently attached to him.
At first, she never expected to speak to him beyond work, there was no reason to. He was quiet during sessions, awkward in a way that almost felt accidental, and usually kept to himself unless someone asked him something directly. But over time, she noticed they shared the same habit: arriving at the studio first and leaving last.
That was the first thing she noticed about him.
One night, during a session that dragged well past midnight, they ended up having their first real conversation. She couldn’t even remember how it started anymore, probably music, maybe exhaustion or maybe a talk through soju, but it somehow ended with them exchanging numbers.
She hesitated about this. She knew better than to get too close to people outside her immediate circle, especially men in the industry. Still, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she found herself texting him first.
He took forever to respond and when he finally did, he apologized immediately, explaining that he barely checked Messages unless it was work-related and that he was usually more active on Discord instead.
She had no idea what Discord was, actually asking him what it was had been mildly humiliating but during their next studio session, when they had spare time between recordings, Jinwoo sat beside her and walked her through the app himself, looking more at her than directly at the phone screen. After that, their conversations slowly migrated there.
Messages turned into late-night calls, calls turned into hours sitting silently together online while they played games. At one point, she downloaded Minecraft solely because he asked if she wanted to see something he built. That was also when she realized Jinwoo was completely different online. He was more talkative, open, and funnier, somehow.
In real life, he could barely maintain eye contact with girls for more than five seconds before staring at the floor or fiddling with the rings on his fingers. But online, words came easier to him. He rambled and he laughed more. Sometimes he’d go on long tangents about music production and the lore of the next new game he was addicted to at two in the morning without realizing how much he was talking.
Somewhere along the way, their conversations stopped feeling casual and eventually, in the most Roh Jinwoo way possible, he confessed to her through Minecraft. He spent nearly three hours building an enormous pixelated heart with a sign in front of it that read:
i love u :3
She remembered laughing so hard she nearly fell into the water surrounding it.
After that, their relationship settled naturally into late night movie streams, endless Minecraft sessions whenever schedules allowed, and quiet calls that lasted until one of them accidentally fell asleep but despite dating for months, they had never gone on a real date before. The one that was in person
As her thoughts were about to drift back to Jinwoo again, reality pulled her out of it. A staff member called her name, signaling that she was needed back on set for the next part of the shoot.
She locked her phone and left the message unanswered on the screen.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
When the shoot finally ended, Wonyoung stood by the glass window of the building, watching rain begin to fall over the city. Neon lights blurred through the droplets, turning the streets into soft streaks of color.
Tiredness settled in her chest in that familiar way it always did. It came with every schedule, every flight, every day that blurred into the next. She exhaled softly and finally opened her phone again.
The first thing she saw was Jinwoo’s message still sitting there.
She read it again and then she typed.
She didn’t know why something so simple made her hesitate.
She had been to Hongdae many times before, mostly for work. Music shows, schedules, quick stops in vans where she could only see fragments of the place through tinted windows. She knew it as a district full of life with its bright lights, crowded streets, endless movement. Nighttime Hongdae was especially famous. She remembered hearing about it constantly: the nightlife, the buskers performing on street corners, the indie music culture that seemed to live and breathe in every alleyway. It was a place where sound never really stopped.
She had never truly experienced it, though. Not properly, not the way people talked about it and for some reason, the idea of seeing it like that with Jinwoo felt different.
She imagined walking beside him under the city lights, him probably a step behind her, hands in his pockets, looking straight at her. She could almost picture him getting awkward if she pointed it out, trying to act normal and failing within seconds. A small, almost reluctant smile formed at the thought.
Wonyoung glanced down at her schedule again.
A day off at the end of the week and, coincidentally, a performance the day before at Hongik University, right in Hongdae. That was perfect.
Her thumb hovered over the keyboard.
She read his message one more time.
Then she finally typed.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Friday arrived, and all the members of IVE were currently on stage as the main act for a university festival at Hongik University. Wonyoung stayed focused, as always. Her attention remained on the crowd, the lights, the rhythm of the stage everything where it needed to be. Everything went as expected.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true.
10 minutes before going on, she had received Jinwoo’s message confirming they would meet after the show. She had read it once, then locked her phone without replying again. That was something for later. Right now, there was only the performance.
She could think about him after, not right now.
The music hit its cue.
She stepped into her position and performed, until she saw him.
A flash of a bright colored head in the crowd caught her eye.
A man stood slightly off-center among the audience, holding his phone at chest level as he recorded. His hair was a mix of dark strands and copper-toned streaks, a wolf cut that moved slightly whenever he shifted. His hands were visible even from this distance, a set of creative nails that were the only pops of color on him with rings on nearly every finger. Then she noticed the piercings on both ears, the layered chains and the layered accessories that looked like he had walked straight out of some underground music store aesthetic.
He didn’t look like he belonged in a university crowd, he looked like he had walked out of another world entirely, the type that would be popular if MySpace was still around.
And then it clicked. Oh… It’s Jinwoo…
For a moment, her focus slipped, not obvious enough for anyone else to notice, but enough for her to register the fact that he was here, watching, recording her performance like it was something normal to him.
She hadn’t expected him to come. She had thought they would meet after the show, not during it. There was no real reason for him to be here. It was a university festival, not a private invitation. She assumed he would wait somewhere quieter, somewhere less crowded but he was here, actually here and that realization almost made her forget she was on stage.
She forced herself back into the performance, shifting her attention outward again with the familiar structure of the stage wrapped around her like muscle memory. She could feel his presence even then and she knew, without even looking, that any moment she acknowledged him too much would change something in the energy between them.
So she didn’t, at least not directly. Instead, she let her eyes pass over the crowd as she moved but once or twice, her gaze slipped back toward his section, not long enough for anyone to notice except maybe him.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
When the show finished, the crowd began to disperse, the noise slowly thinning into scattered conversations and fading cheers. The members of IVE made their way backstage, still in the afterglow of the performance, while staff moved in quickly to begin the cleanup.
Wonyoung followed the routine like muscle memory. Makeup removal first. Bright stage lights replaced by softer backstage lighting as a stylist gently wiped away the performance look from her face. She sat still, hands resting neatly in her lap, blinking slowly as the energy of the stage started to fade from her system. Her mind, however, didn’t fully settle, they were still back at Jinwoo.
She had already texted him earlier, told him she would come out after the show. He had simply replied with something short and typical of him.
After her makeup was done, she changed into a simple tracksuit layered with a long cover-up and pulled her hair back in a way that made her feel less like an idol and more like someone trying very hard not to be recognized. She checked her reflection once and then looked away.
She knew exactly what she was doing and she still couldn’t fully explain why she was doing it. Going out like this, meeting him like this, felt like stepping slightly outside the frame she had carefully built for herself. One wrong person noticing. One rumor spreading. One moment taken the wrong way. And yet, she still chose to go. It wasn’t as if she didn’t understand the risk. She understood it perfectly. That was the problem.
She could have said no.
She probably should have said no.
And yet it felt even stranger to think about continuing what they had, messages, calls, late-night conversations, without ever actually meeting properly and a boyfriend she had never gone on a real date with. It didn’t make sense in her head and for the most part, it was her first time doing something like this, the type that could get her trouble after years of playing safe.
When she was finally ready, she stepped out backstage into the open air. The festival grounds were already half empty. The once crowded area had become scattered trash bags and dismantled structures. Staff moved across the space, taking down equipment, talking quietly to each other in the background. The energy of earlier was gone, all that was left was the aftermath.
She adjusted her mask slightly and looked around and then she saw him.
Jinwoo was standing near one of the food stalls with a phone in his hand. He looked slightly out of place in the cleaning chaos, like he belonged more to the lingering noise of the performance than the silence that followed it. He had his usual accessories on with his rings, chains and the familiar disarray of style that somehow never looked accidental on him.
Wonyoung didn’t hesitate and she walked toward him.
“Jinwoo.”
Jinwoo turned around and immediately froze.
He just stared at her.
Not in an intense way, more like his brain had stopped functioning for a moment trying to process the fact that she was actually standing there in front of him instead of behind a screen or through a phone call. The silence stretched longer than it probably should have. Wonyoung almost wondered if he had forgotten how to speak entirely, then she watched realization slowly hit him all at once. His expression shifted, his face noticeably warmed, ears turning red almost instantly before he looked away too quickly, as if eye contact itself had become overwhelming.
Jinwoo was already looking at her again. Trying to, at least. His eyes met hers briefly before darting somewhere near her shoulder instead, like maintaining eye contact for more than three seconds physically pained him. Then, he mumbled
“You look beautiful…”
The words caught her off guard and apparently him too. The moment he realized he had actually said it out loud, his entire expression shifted into panic.
“Sorry—wait, no, I didn’t mean—” He stopped himself immediately, groaning under his breath. “I mean, I did mean it, but—”
He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck, rings glinting faintly under the remaining festival lights. The tips of his ears had turned completely red now.
“You’re always beautiful,” he continued hurriedly, stumbling over nearly every word. “I just—uh…”
He looked away again for a second before finally forcing himself to face her properly, “I mean, hi,” he said quietly. “Good to see you, Wonyoung.”
“You practiced that in your head first, didn’t you?”
Jinwoo just stared at her for a moment, then immediately looked down like he’d been caught doing something embarrassing in public. The last trace of red on his face faded as he tried to regain composure. Wonyoung watched him for a second longer, then softened.
“Thank you, Jinwoo,” she said gently. “I appreciate the effort.”
He finally looked back up at her, still a little stiff, but trying to hold her gaze this time.
“So,” she asked, adjusting the ice cream in her hand, “how did you get in here? I thought we’d meet outside or somewhere else.”
“My little brother goes herei,” he said. “So I came in as his guest. Apparently guests are allowed for this kind of event as long as they’re invited by students.”
He paused, scratching lightly at the back of his neck. “I didn’t really ask him to bring me or anything if that’s what you’re thinking. He just said I had to come and that you guys were performing, so…”
He trailed off, like the explanation felt longer in his head than it did out loud. “I just came.”
Wonyoung nodded slowly, still processing it. “Aren’t you going to—”
“He’s fine,” Jinwoo cut in quickly, as if anticipating her concern. “He’s your age. 21, 22… wait, no, he turned 22 last week.”
He glanced away for a second, thinking. “He can handle going home himself. And he already knew about this anyway, so he left earlier or he’s probably with his friends.”
Then, he shifted slightly and looked back at her. “Anyways,” he said, quieter, “do you want to walk around?”
Wonyoung glanced around the nearly empty festival grounds before nodding lightly. “Okay.” Together, they left the university behind and stepped into the nightlife of Hongdae.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The streets were still alive despite the late hour. Neon signs reflected against damp pavement left behind by the earlier rain, music spilling out from restaurants and bars as groups of people passed by laughing loudly. Somewhere farther down the street, a busker was still playing guitar for the remaining crowd gathered around him. Jinwoo walked beside her quietly, matching her pace almost instinctively while still carrying that same awkward posture she remembered from before. It almost caught her off guard.
Somehow, over months of calls and online conversations, she had forgotten just how shy he actually was in person. She got used to the version of Roh Jinwoo she talked to every night online, the one that was talkative, sarcastic, occasionally rambling whenever music and his games and animes were involved but the Jinwoo beside her now felt softer around the edges, quieter, more careful. The last time she had really seen him like this was back when he was still writing for IVE, way before they started dating.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
As they wandered farther into Hongdae, Jinwoo subtly slowed his steps whenever she did, making sure she never had to adjust to keep up with him. Every now and then, she caught him glancing at her briefly before looking away again like he’d been caught staring.
He still hadn’t said much but somehow, his attention stayed entirely on her. Not once did she see him reach for his phone nor did he seem distracted by anything happening around them despite how alive the streets were at night. Instead, he simply walked beside her quietly, letting her take in Hongdae at her own pace, as if he was more interested in watching her experience the place than the place itself.
As they continued walking, she noticed a group of students that were laughing loudly and walking near them even though they were just passing by, Wonyoung instinctively moved away a little too far, Jinwoo immediately noticed this, and held her by the sleeve of her tracksuit to prevent her from steering to the road and slowly guiding her to the sidewalk. The touch lasted a second but he didn't let go immediately.
“Sorry, instincts.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just saw those kids and my instincts told me to back off.”
“You see every young person and think they're out to get you? I don't wanna judge if you think that way but I think everyone's too drunk to even care. Besides, you're incognito. I don't think anyone would see you.”
If only Jinwoo knew, shouldn't he be aware of that? But he does know Hongdae more than Wonyoung does. He was born and raised here but from what it seemed, Jinwoo does realize what he just said.
“Sorry, I think I shouldn't have downplayed your thoughts, if it's better to you, let's head somewhere. It's more secluded there.”
Wonyoung nods as the two walked to wherever he was going. They walked farther away from the crowded main streets until the atmosphere of Hongdae slowly began to change. The loud music and drunken noise faded into something quieter. Streetlights still illuminated the roads but there were noticeably fewer people now. Small businesses lined the sidewalks alongside older-looking houses and tucked-away storefronts that felt more lived-in than trendy.
Wonyoung glanced around curiously as she followed beside him, she still wasn’t entirely sure where Jinwoo was taking her. Not in a worried way, more confused. Jinwoo didn’t seem like the type to drag someone somewhere without reason. If anything, he overthought things too much, then they stopped in front of a café.
It stood out immediately from the others she was used to seeing. It had dark walls, posters of bands she didn’t recognize taped across the windows, faded stickers covering the entrance door, and even the sign itself looked intentionally rough around the edges.
“Oh,” Jinwoo mumbled quietly, sounding almost relieved. “It’s still open.”
He stepped forward and opened the door for her, holding it there awkwardly until she walked inside before following after her. The inside looked exactly how she imagined it would. There was dim lighting, old rock music playing softly through speakers overhead, framed vinyl records and signed posters decorated the walls while a small stage sat tucked in one corner of the café. It didn’t feel polished or aesthetic in the carefully curated way most cafés did.
It felt real, lived in, and completely different from the cafes Wonyoung usually visited.
“Do you wanna order?” Jinwoo asked as they walked toward the counter. “You should try their tarts. They’re really good.”
“Their tarts?”
She leaned slightly toward the glass display, scanning the pastries lined neatly behind it. They did look good.
“I’ll try that one,” she said, pointing toward a cherry tart.
Jinwoo nodded immediately before patting his pockets and checking his wallet.
“What about drinks?”
“A medium iced Americano is fine.”
“Okay,” he murmured, glancing down into his wallet again. “That’s enough.”
Wonyoung looked at him. “Jinwoo, it’s okay. I can pay for my own.”
“It’s a date,” he replied simply. “I’m paying for us.”
“I—”
“One cherry tart, one lemon meringue, a medium iced Americano, and a medium mocha latte.”
He spoke before she could argue further, addressing the barista at the register. Wonyoung blinked slightly as she looked at the woman behind the counter. She had bright pink hair, a nose bridge piercing, a lip ring, and a snake tattoo wrapped around one arm disappearing beneath rolled sleeves. Even the employees here looked different from the cozy café staff she was used to seeing elsewhere.
“This place really is…” she muttered quietly to herself.
The cashier typed something into the register before looking up. “8000 won.”
Jinwoo immediately pulled cash from his wallet and handed it over before taking the receipt. Afterward, the two of them moved toward one of the emptier tables near the side of the café. Wonyoung sat down across from him, glancing around the place once more. She still couldn’t fully understand why he brought her here.
“It’s my first time seeing a café like this,” she admitted.
Jinwoo looked around casually. “Well… that’s Hongdae for you. Places here always try to be different from each other.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you brought me here.” She tilted her head slightly. “This doesn’t really seem like my type of place.”
The second the words left her mouth, Jinwoo’s eyes widened slightly. “Really?” he asked immediately. “I’m sorry.”
The apology came so quickly it almost startled her. “I just thought…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “You always let me play my playlists whenever we’re on Minecraft together, so I thought maybe you’d like this kind of place too.”
He looked genuinely embarrassed now. “That was probably stupid, sorry. I should have thought this further… I just…” He hesitated briefly before glancing toward the corner of the café. “I wanted to come back here with someone.”
Wonyoung followed his gaze, he pointed toward the small stage tucked in the corner. “This is where me and the band had our first gig,” he said quietly. “That stage right there.”
Wonyoung looked toward it again. There were still instruments resting near the back wall. A drum kit with a mic attached to it, three mic stands, guitar amps stacked carelessly beside each other. For the first time since entering the café, the place suddenly made sense to her. She remembered he mentioned that he was a part of a band called Driveway Saints as the lead guitarist and he mentioned it was a band they made with his high school friends. She did hear some of their music and if she was being honest, it wasn’t her cup of tea but she wouldn’t deny that he and the guys were talented.
“But it wasn’t really in front of as many people as you think. It was only like, 12 people there at the time…”
Wonyoung’s gaze slowly wandered away from the stage and toward the walls of the café instead. They were covered in vinyl records, old album sleeves, faded band posters, and framed photographs taken over what looked like years of performances held in the small venue. Some of the frames captured crowded nights with local bands on stage, others showed blurry groups of musicians posing together after shows. It felt less like decoration and more like a collection of memories, then one particular frame caught her attention.
There were 4 teenage boys standing on the very same stage Jinwoo had pointed out earlier, three with their instruments hanging awkwardly from their shoulders and one boy in the back aggressively pounding on the drum kit beneath dim lighting. Despite the grainy quality of the photo, one of them immediately looked familiar.
A boy was standing on the left side, holding an electric guitar loosely against himself, he had a natural black hair falling over his forehead in a much shorter style than what Jinwoo had now. He wore a faded band shirt and skinny jeans, noticeably lacking the tattoos, layered jewelry, and heavy styling Wonyoung had grown used to seeing on him.
Still, it was obviously him.
“Is that you?” she asked, pointing lightly toward the frame.
Jinwoo followed her gaze. The second he realized which picture she meant, his entire expression shifted into immediate regret.
“Oh my God…” he muttered, already covering part of his face with one hand. “Yeah, that’s me.”
Wonyoung looked back at the photo, trying not to smile too obviously. “You looked different.”
“I looked stupid,” Jinwoo corrected instantly, visibly cringing at his 16 year old self. “That outfit was terrible. I genuinely thought I looked cool in that fit back then.”
He leaned farther back into his chair like distancing himself physically from the photograph would somehow help. “I was 16,” he continued. “And I was still getting held back by school rules, so I couldn’t dress how I wanted yet.”
Wonyoung glanced between the photo and the man sitting across from her now. The differences were obvious but somehow the expression on his face hadn’t changed much at all. He was still awkward and slightly uncomfortable being perceived.
Then they both heard a voice from the counter.
“Order number 67!”
“Oh, that’s ours,” Jinwoo said immediately, standing up from the table.
Before Wonyoung could even react, he was already moving toward the counter.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
They quietly ate their food, the soft music from the café filling the silence between them. Wonyoung picked at her cherry tart and iced Americano while Jinwoo sat across from her with his lemon meringue and mocha latte.
Neither of them spoke much after that.
Wonyoung didn’t mind the silence as much as she thought she would. Instead, she found herself watching him again, still trying to understand him beyond phone calls and screens. This was the first time she had ever properly sat across from him like this in real life.
Jinwoo, meanwhile, looked momentarily lost in thought as he chewed quietly, gaze drifting somewhere past the table for a few seconds before returning to her again. It wasn’t the kind of distraction that felt dismissive. If anything, it felt like he was still adjusting to the fact that she was actually here and every time his attention wandered, it always found its way back to her anyway.
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Jinwoo straightened slightly in his seat.
“Oh.”
He reached for his phone beside his drink and unlocked it, scrolling through his gallery with a small crease forming between his brows. “I think I forgot to record half the performance…”
Wonyoung looked up from her tart. “What?”
Jinwoo tilted the screen toward himself, visibly realizing just how few clips he had actually taken. Most of them were short, shaky, and cut off awkwardly after a few seconds. “There’s barely anything here,” he muttered. “I thought I recorded more.”
Wonyoung leaned slightly closer out of curiosity. “You were recording though.”
“Yeah, but…” He paused briefly before saying it without thinking, “I kept watching you instead.”
The moment the sentence fully left his mouth, Jinwoo froze.
Wonyoung saw the realization hit him in real time.
Then, his ears immediately started turning red again. “…Oh.”. He looked away so fast it almost made her laugh.
Jinwoo grabbed his mocha latte and took a long sip from it pretending to drink like it somehow erased the fact he had just admitted that out loud. He stared very intently at the table afterward, refusing to look directly at her.
Meanwhile, Wonyoung was trying, and failing, not to smile too obviously. Without another word, Jinwoo awkwardly slid his phone toward her across the table like a peace offering.
“You can look if you want,” he mumbled quietly.
Wonyoung took the phone from him, scrolling through the gallery herself.
Most of the clips were short. Some were blurry because he moved too much, one completely missed the choreography because the camera tilted upward toward the stage lights halfway through and another was only three seconds long.
She laughed softly under her breath.
“You recorded all this?”
“I wanted to remember it properly,” Jinwoo admitted. Then he paused again, “My bad. I should’ve taken more videos.”
Wonyoung glanced up from the phone. “You know normal people would probably focus on recording the performance first.”
“I know,” he said immediately, still avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment. “I just got distracted.”
“Distracted?”
Jinwoo finally looked at her for half a second before immediately looking somewhere else again.
“You were on stage,” he said like that explained everything. To him, apparently, it did.
Wonyoung looked back down at the videos again, replaying one of the clips silently. It was shaky, badly framed, and cut off too early but somehow, it felt strangely genuine and entirely in his perspective and for some reason, she liked that more.
“L-Let’s just continue walking,” Jinwoo stammered, his ears still faintly red.
He quickly took his phone back, clearing his throat as if trying to reset the entire moment. Coincidentally, both of them had already finished eating. He stood first, collecting their trash and wiping the table almost a little too carefully, like putting things in order would help him regain composure. Wonyoung followed him out of the café shortly after.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Outside, Hongdae felt different again.
The deeper they walked, the quieter it became. The bright neon glow softened behind them, replaced by dimmer streetlights and narrower streets. The noise of the main roads faded into something more distant, almost like the city itself was lowering its voice. They crossed into smaller backstreets where the buildings looked older, more residential, and less performative. The energy of performance and crowd noise was gone now replaced by stillness and occasional passing footsteps.
Wonyoung didn’t ask where they were going, she simply followed. It felt easier that way. After a while, she spoke quietly. “You know… moments like this are rare.”
Jinwoo glanced at her immediately, a small tilt of his head signaling he was listening.
“To be honest,” she continued, looking ahead instead of at him, “I don’t really remember the last time I had a moment like this. Just walking and not thinking about anything else.”
Jinwoo didn’t interrupt. He just walked beside her, slower now, matching her pace without needing to adjust. “That bad?” he asked after a moment.
Wonyoung let out a soft breath that was almost a laugh, but not quite. “Yeah… I guess. I’ve been in the industry since I was 13. I was casted in my sister’s graduation, I competed in a survival show and ranked first and center, I debuted in two groups, both as center and visual, and my face is kind of everywhere in this country.”
She didn’t say it dramatically, just honestly like stating a fact she had gotten used to repeating.
Jinwoo stayed quiet the entire time, listening without looking away, as if giving her space to say everything she needed without interruption. When she finished, there was a brief pause between them.
Then, very simply, Jinwoo said, “Oh… how does that feel?”
Wonyoung glanced at him, and for a second she almost smiled at how straightforward he was.
“Not as much,” she said. “Just constant. I’m used to it.”
“Oh,” he murmured, nodding slightly. “I’m sorry.”
He looked ahead for a moment, thinking. “I get that feeling sometimes too,” he added. “Not the same way but when everything’s too loud, or when people expect too much from you. I usually just disappear somewhere. I’m probably sleeping in my place, talking to my friends or doing whatever.”
He hesitated. Then, Jinwoo corrected himself softly, like he was realizing his words might not be enough. “I didn’t mean to compare it. I just… get why it’s tiring.”
Wonyoung shook her head slightly. “It’s okay.”
Jinwoo nodded once, then fell quiet again but this time it didn’t feel awkward. After a few steps, he spoke again, a little more carefully this time. “I’m glad you’re here like this,” he said. “Like not on stage.”
He scratched lightly at the back of his neck, eyes flicking away for a second. “And if you ever have stuff in your head, I might not be good at advice, but I can listen.”
He paused, then added almost immediately, “…properly. I mean.”
Wonyoung looked at him, really looked him and for once, Jinwoo didn’t look away right away. They continued walking, slower this time and somewhere along the way, Wonyoung realized she had stopped checking every passing face around her. The tension she’d been carrying since leaving the university had eased little by little without her noticing. Earlier, every group of students, every glance in her direction, every crowded corner had made her instinctively pull back into herself again but now, she wasn’t thinking about any of that as much anymore and somehow, that realization hit her all at once.
She had spent so long carefully maintaining herself around other people, monitoring expressions, posture, reactions, that she hadn’t even realized when the instinctive “idol mode” she carried around had slowly started slipping away tonight yet beside Jinwoo, it happened naturally and it faded out.
The feeling settled somewhere deep in her chest, soft enough that she almost didn’t know how to describe it. She had felt versions of this before during their late-night calls and endless online conversations, the strange sense of calm that always seemed to follow him around, but experiencing it in person felt different somehow.
For a first real date, this night was turning out nothing like she expected in a good way and for once, she didn’t mind not knowing where it was going.
Wonyoung’s attention drifted toward one of the few flower stalls that was somehow still open at this hour. Among the smaller bouquets and wrapped flowers sitting beneath the warm lights, one bundle immediately stood out to her. They were sunflowers.
She slowed slightly as she looked at them, they felt strangely out of place.
First of all, it was nighttime. Second, sunflowers weren’t exactly the kind of flower she expected to casually see in the middle of Seoul and third, sunflower season wouldn’t even start until summer yet somehow, despite all of that, they still stood out naturally against everything else around them.
That was then she remembered: the countless times she had tried learning more about Driveway Saints and their fandom culture after she and Jinwoo started talking more seriously. She never fully dove into it, mostly because she was still stubbornly trying to limit her screen time back then and their music again, wasn’t her cup of tea except for maybe one or two songs but there was one thing she constantly noticed.
For some reason, fans always associated Jinwoo with them and she never really understood why.
Nothing about him visually screamed sunflowers. Not the heavy eyeliner, not the tattoos, not the layered chains or dark clothes, not the constantly changing hair colors or literally, everything about him. Even his role within the band felt rougher around the edges compared to something as bright as a sunflower, it didn’t match.
Back then, she had meant to look deeper into where the association came from, but schedules got in the way and eventually she forgot about it entirely. As they stood beneath the flower stall lights, she finally asked quietly, “Why do your fans connect you to sunflowers?”
Jinwoo followed her gaze toward the bouquet. For a second, he looked genuinely confused, like he hadn’t thought about it in a while then he let out a small breath through his nose.
“It’s kind of a lot of random reasons,” he admitted.
He shifted his hands into the pockets of his pants as he spoke. “During our first album era, I had this hair color people knew me for.” He motioned vaguely toward his own hair. “Everything was dyed blonde except the roots, and fans kept saying it looked like sunflower petals or whatever.”
Wonyoung tried picturing it. Honestly, she could kind of see it.
“And,” he continued, “there’s these cargo pants I wear a lot that have sunflower patches sewn onto them. I’m wearing them right now.” He glanced down briefly before nudging the fabric near his knee slightly with one hand.
“My mom sewed them herself so I kept wearing them.”
Wonyoung looked properly this time and noticed faint embroidered sunflowers stitched along one side of the pants beneath the dim streetlight.
Then he shrugged. “So yeah. Back in like, 2020, the whole look was basically these pants and the hair.” He looked away awkwardly afterward. “Not really that deep.”
Wonyoung glanced again at the sunflowers stitched onto his pants, then back at him. “It doesn’t really match your image.”
“I know,” Jinwoo said immediately, almost like he’d heard that plenty of times before. “But fans seem to think otherwise.”
“Oh?” she tilted her head slightly.
He shrugged, hands still tucked in his pockets. “I don’t really know why they picked it, but I don’t mind it. I just kind of… trust it at this point.”
Wonyoung watched him as he spoke and Jinwoo continued, “I think fans are weirdly good at picking up patterns,” he said. “Even if they don’t know everything about someone, they notice things you don’t think matter.”
He glanced briefly toward the sunflower stall again. “Maybe they don’t get it completely right,” he added, “but they’re not completely wrong either.”
Then, after a small pause, he looked back at her. “I guess I just let them have that one.”
Wonyoung listened as he spoke about fans.
She didn’t expect him to be so genuine about it.
Most of what she had heard from people in the industry tended to fall into extremes. Either carefully polished gratitude, the kind that felt rehearsed and safe, or distant remarks that treated fans like something abstract rather than people.
Jinwoo didn’t sound like either.
He wasn’t overly sentimental, and he wasn’t dismissive either. It was something in between; respectful without trying to turn it into a performance.
A kind of quiet acknowledgment and for her, that was one of the most respectful approaches for an artist with their fans. It suited him.
She could tell he wasn’t the type to demand anything from people. Not attention, not understanding, not even emotional access. He seemed more comfortable letting things exist as they were, allowing people to show what they chose to show and strangely, that felt more comforting than constant reassurance and praise. In a world where so many people wanted full access to her life, Jinwoo didn’t seem to expect it. He just accepted whatever version of herself she chose to share in the moment.
It made him feel safe in a way she didn’t fully know how to explain but before she could think about it further, Jinwoo’s voice broke through the quiet space. He glanced at his phone. “Oh… it’s getting late.”
Wonyoung checked hers as well.
He was right.
The night had moved faster than she realized. “I should probably catch the train,” she said softly.
“I can go with you,” Jinwoo replied immediately, already shifting his weight like he was about to stand.
Wonyoung shook her head slightly. “Jinwoo, I’m fine. It’s just going to Gangnam.”
“It’s nighttime,” he said simply. “Anything can happen. You could get in danger.”
She gave him a small, tired look. “But what about you? You still have to get back to Hongdae.”
He paused for a second. “The last train’s later,” he said. “And if I miss it… Gyumin’s place is in Gangnam anyway. He’ll let me stay over.” That was said so casually it almost didn’t sound like an argument at all.
Wonyoung exhaled through her nose, a faint smile forming despite herself. Of course he had a backup plan.
She didn’t argue further after that. Instead, she nodded once, adjusting her cap slightly.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
And together, they started walking toward the station. When they arrived at the station, crowds were already gathering near the platform. They had made it just in time. The train pulled in with a loud screech against the tracks, and almost immediately, people began pushing forward to get inside before the doors even fully opened. The crowd thickened fast enough that Wonyoung briefly lost sense of where she was supposed to move next.
Jinwoo stayed close beside her the entire time. Without saying much, he lightly placed a hand against her waist, subtly guiding her through the crowd so they wouldn’t get separated. The touch was brief and careful, just enough to steer her in the right direction without drawing attention.
Eventually, they managed to get inside the train. There weren’t any seats left, so the two of them ended up standing near one of the windows while more passengers continued squeezing in around them.
Wonyoung leaned her head lightly against the glass, watching the city lights blur past outside as the train started moving again. It was cramped and suffocating but somehow, Jinwoo kept making the space around her easier to breathe in without making it obvious he was doing it. Whenever someone pushed past to leave the train, he would quietly place a hand between her and the crowd so she wouldn’t get bumped directly. When the train jerked slightly during turns, he instinctively braced himself against the pole beside her, creating enough space so the shifting crowd wouldn’t press into her.
None of it felt forced. He definitely wasn’t making a big deal out of it. If anything, it seemed subconscious, those tiny gestures settled warmth into her chest more effectively than grand words ever could.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Wonyoung was finally back at the dorm.
By now, all her members were already asleep, leaving the place unusually quiet as she carefully slipped inside. She quietly headed toward her room, shutting the door behind her before finally turning the lights on.
The first thing she did was pull off her mask and cap before letting herself fall backward onto the bed with a tired sigh.
Only then did everything fully settle in.
The date had ended with Jinwoo walking her all the way back to the dorm building, insisting he was fine leaving later as long as he knew she got back safely. Even after she entered through the gates of the building, she noticed he still hadn’t left immediately. He only turned around once he saw her disappear inside.
For some reason, that memory lingered with her the most.
As she stared up at the ceiling, moments from the night replayed slowly in her head. She had already been dating him for a while, yet somehow tonight still felt like she had gotten to know him all over again.
Jinwoo might have been quieter and more timid in real life compared to how he acted on Discord calls, but when it came to her, he was still the same person underneath all of it. He was attentive, patient, and careful in ways he didn’t feel forced. He listened more than he talked, he noticed things without pointing them out and throughout the entire night, he kept finding small ways to make sure she felt comfortable without ever asking for anything back.
As those thoughts settled in her chest, Wonyoung finally realized something. Maybe people were never comparing him to sunflowers because they were bright, maybe it was because warmth could exist quietly too.
Jinwoo wasn’t the loudest person in the room. He wasn’t someone who demanded attention the moment he walked in but somehow, he still had this way of making people feel lighter around him, as if the world softened a little whenever he was there and maybe that was why people saw sunflowers in him after all. He wasn’t sunlight itself, but somehow, he always found ways to lead her toward it.
Maybe that was what the entire night had been. The place where everything felt bright and warm despite the setting, just like sunflower fields. For the first time in a long while, she felt lighter like, for a few hours, she had been taken somewhere far away from everything exhausting. Somewhere warm and safe.
She let out a small laugh to herself as she stared up at the ceiling.
Was it where all the sunflowers were hiding… or where they were shining?
Either way, as sleep slowly started pulling at her, Wonyoung found herself thinking one thing quietly.
Jinwoo should probably take her out more often…
