#recording studio

“Come on, Y/N!!!” Felix pleads, his fingers curling around the hem of your dress like a child hanging onto their mother’s sleeve. His voice has that soft desperation in it, breathy and slightly whiny, already laced with excitement. For some reason beyond your comprehension, he had been begging, genuinely begging for weeks for you to go to the studio with him. Maybe he remembered you once mentioning that your fingers had itched to try a mic just for a little while. Maybe it was the offhand comment you made months ago about wanting to see what a real session was like. But now, as he tugged impatiently on your skirt, it seemed he had taken your words to heart and really wanted you to go.

You glance down at his hand, his fingertips brushing the intricate lace trim sewn delicately into your black mid-length dress. The fabric color choices look absolutely wonderful on you and even though the corset you're wearing would normally look uncomfortable, it only makes you feel more confident. The neckline is heart-shaped, lined with tiny black satin rosettes, framing your chest with an almost Victorian softness. Across your arms, the chiffon sleeves flow down to your wrists like wisps of smoke, sheer but layered, moving with every breath you take. It’s a style you've always liked to dress in because it makes you feel good in a way you can't describe. The pick me up you always need after a long day is getting dressed up in your pretty goth skirts just to feel pretty. You sigh, turning back toward your vanity, the mirror reflecting the full vision you had constructed. A deep crimson headband pushes your bangs away from your eyes, the ribbon bow at the top matching your lipstick perfectly. Felix watches as you lift your eyeliner with steady fingers, dragging the inky black wing upward toward your temple in a sharp swing that looks like a dagger across your skin. The silver sparkles clustered in your tear duct catch under the vanity lights like whispers of the wind mixed with some magical glitter.

“What about the other guys?” you murmur, voice low, eyes flicking to Felix’s reflection in the mirror. “I don’t really know any of them that well.” Felix shrugs, though he’s barely paying attention to your words anymore he’s too mesmerized by your ritual. He always is. Everything about the process fascinates him. The way you tilt your chin slightly higher while putting on mascara. The way your dark dress cascades over your legs when you stand, the layers fluttering around your thighs like ink blooming in water. It's entertaining in some weird way, he gets to see a part of you that's truly you!

“I promise,” he says, stepping closer until he’s right behind you, chin nearly resting on your shoulder. “They’ll like you! You're so sweet there really isn't anything not to like.” You scoff, but his words bring a reluctant smile to your lips as you apply your red lipstick, blotting it softly with your middle finger, spreading the pigment until it looks bitten. You reach for your rings next, the silver color gentle against your skin, and slide each one onto your fingers. Felix watches each motion reverently, almost as if you were performing a spell. He had admitted once, quietly, that the first time he saw you, he was a little scared. Not because of you, but because of how you dressed. People weren’t used to this kind of style you wore, and although it may have been silly, new things could be terrifying. And yet, instead of judging you, he learned you were the sweetest person other than himself that he has ever met. Your kindness showed through in the best way, and he thought it was extremely unfair that the style you wore seemed to scare off so many people. It was your own form of expression that was all, and although he was guilty of it, nothing about it should be thought of as weird.

Felix beams now as you rise from your vanity, your black platform heels clicking decisively across the floor. The skirt of your dress sways, catching light and shadow like a cathedral curtain. You adjust your headband one last time, then turn to face him fully. He clasps his hands dramatically. “You look wonderful Y/N! Just another excuse to go to the studio.” He jokes but the compliment is serious. You roll your eyes, but the compliment warms your chest. Felix had always been there to hype you up, to admire your makeup and hair, to sit beside you as you curled your locks against hot iron, each ribboned curl falling perfectly over your shoulders. He has always been there for you, the least you could do was be there for his music.

So really…how could you say no?

You give Felix a slight nod, barely even a tilt of the chin, and he immediately reacts by blooming into a smile. He throws his head back with an excited yell, his laughter spilling out in bright bursts as he fumbles to pull his phone from his pocket. “Yes! Oh my gosh, you are going to have the best time,” he babbles, thumbs tapping rapidly across his screen as he checks the time. “And I sound so cool in the recording booth too, wait until you hear my super deep singing voice. If you think it's deep now just wait” He giggles to himself, full of nerves and pride, bouncing on his toes like he physically cannot contain the thrill racing through him. Meanwhile, you turn back to the mirror and do one final check. Your sleeves, long and sheer, embroidered with intricate black and crimson floral stitching, drape delicately down your arms in an enchanting way. You adjust the elastic off-shoulder neckline so it sits perfectly against your collarbones, the cool fabric pressing softly into your skin. The fitted bodice wraps around you, the tightness comforting, and the ribbon ties in the back forming a perfect bow that trails lightly against your spine. As you stand, the skirt swishes dramatically around your legs, layers of chiffon falling like soft shadows with every step. The silver rings on your fingers clink quietly as you smooth the fabric down, double-checking that every detail looks effortless, even though you spent twenty minutes perfecting it like any other person would do.

“I guess,” you murmur, trying to sound annoyed even though the flutter in your chest betrays you. The nerves in your stomach twist into something warm, anticipation, excitement, fear, all swirling together. “Let’s just get this over with.” Felix beams even if you sound slightly hesitant. He grabs his coat, practically hopping into his shoes, watching you with glowing eyes as you step into your black platform boots. The leather hugs your ankles, the buckles glinting beneath the light as you lace them up carefully. For a moment, your hands pause at the last buckle, fingertips stilling as your thoughts begin to spiral.

You’d heard about the members before, sometimes in funny stories about inside jokes or food fights, sometimes in quiet moments where Felix got soft, recounting late-night talks about dreams and fears. But there was one name he never spoke lightly of Bang Chan.

Felix always talked about him with an unshakable admiration. Not like a fan would speak of a celebrity, but like someone describing the sun, constant, life-giving, protective. You’d heard stories of Chan staying late in the studio to finish tracks so the others could rest, covering shifts, volunteering on weekends, buying meals without telling anyone. Every time Felix said his name, there was a gentleness in his tone that made you certain: this was not just a leader. This was someone who cared. Someone truly important.

And someone you wanted, no, needed, to make a good impression on.

Your heartbeat thrums faster as you slip on your coat, the soft fabric brushing against your dress sleeves. What if he thinks you're too much? Too dramatic? A bad influence? Your style has always sparked reactions. Which was the point, yes, but reactions could burn, and leave marks that could possibly last forever if not taken care of. You were scared to get burned by the one person Felix may prioritize over you, the idea of losing your beta friends, something you don't want to imagine. “Trust me, Y/N,” Felix’s voice echoes in your mind, his earlier words floating through your thoughts like a steadying breeze. “They’re gonna love you.” You inhale slowly, deeply and purposefully. The kind of breath you take before stepping onto a stage.

The air fills your lungs, cool and sharp, and you let it out just as slowly. Felix opens the front door, his smile brighter than ever as he gestures for you to step out first. You adjust your headband, take one last deep breath, and with every ounce of confidence you could possibly muster move forward heading to the studio.

But the studio was definitely not at all what you had imagined. In your head, you pictured something quiet and dimly lit, maybe soft music playing in the background, people hunched over soundboards concentrating deeply. Instead, before you even touched the door, you heard absolute terrors erupting from inside. Heavy thuds, like someone was physically slamming against the furniture, rattled the walls. A piercing, dolphin level cackle cut through the air, followed by overlapping shouts of laughter. It sounded less like a professional work environment and more like a frat house on game night, and every new noise only made you more certain that something feral was happening within those walls. You froze in front of the door, slowly turning to Felix with a look that could only be described as pure alarm. And the worst part was he just grinned in response. Not his normal sweet grin either, this one was truly evil. Mischief burned in his eyes, the kind that made your stomach flip, because you knew Felix Lee did not wear that expression unless something about crazy was about to unfold.

“What,” you whisper under your breath, your voice strained. “What is happening in there?”

"You’ll see,” he sings, clearly thrilled about your growing horror. You take a breath and push the door open just a little, peeking inside. And instantaneously the room freezes. You figure they just have thought you were an employee before looking because every single member whips around like meerkats sensing danger. Conversations stop. Movement stops. One guy literally drops what looks like a slipper mid-air. They all straighten their backs, suddenly adopting serious expressions and pretending to be immersed in various equipment, as if they hadn’t just been participating in whatever ungodly racket you walked in on. You blink and let out a small light hearted laugh. Then Felix casually slips in beside you, leaning half his body through the doorframe and loudly announcing, “WE’RE HEEERE!”

The room erupts again in absolutely no time. “FELIX!” One voice hollers, and you barely register who it is before Felix launches forward and tackles a tall figure with flowing hair and a familiar silver ring you've seen Felix wear. That must be Hyunjin, you think trying to remember what you know about the members. The rest of the members immediately crowd around them, launching into rapid conversation about whatever monstrosity they were doing before your arrival. Some are reenacting something in exaggerated motions, another is wheezing into his sleeve. The energy is so hyperactive it practically crackles in the air like static. But through all that movement one person isn’t acting completely crazy. He stands a few feet away, arms relaxed at his sides, a gentle smile still resting on his lips, but his eyes are entirely on you.

Bang Chan.

You recognize him instantly from the descriptions Felix had given you: soft curls barely visible under a black beanie, warm eyes that crinkle when he smiles, broad shoulders that still somehow manage to exude comfort rather than intimidation. And yet he wasn’t anything like you had pictured. He stood slightly apart from the others, framed by the golden studio lights that traced along the edges of his shoulders and the curve of his jaw. His hair, tousled and soft brown under a black beanie, framed his face in loose waves. A silver chain glinted at his neck, catching the warm light as he tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly in quiet curiosity.

Those eyes so deep, warm and brown, flecked with something golden, met yours directly, unflinching but gentle. They crinkled faintly at the corners as he smiled, and you swore the air left your lungs. It wasn’t just his smile; it was what it did to the whole room. The way everything around him softened. The laughter dimmed. Everything felt steady in a way. He shifted his weight, strong forearms crossing loosely over his chest, muscles flexing subtly beneath his fitted white shirt. His posture wasn’t intimidating , it was confident, calm, like he had this quiet authority that didn’t need to demand attention to get it.

You could feel your heartbeat picking up, quick and unsteady, each thump echoing louder in your ears. You tried to tell yourself it was just the nerves, the awkwardness of meeting someone new. But deep down, you knew it was something else , something about the way his gaze seemed to see right through the lace, the eyeliner, the layers of your outfit, straight into you. It's like he watches you with quiet intensity, not judgmental or startled, but curious. His gaze drifts from the top of your headband down to the lace sleeves on your arms, to the cinched waist of your dress, pausing respectfully before flicking back to your eyes. His beanie shifts slightly as he adjusts it, almost nervously, though the rest of his demeanor stays calm. Then he gestures subtly to the others, and it's like if on command, the chaos ceases. Seven pairs of eyes slowly turning to look at you.

You anxiously press your fingers into the fabric of your skirt, but to your surprise, none of them look upset. Or bored. Or even confused. They look truly excited. Bang Chan steps forward first, bowing his head slightly, and instantly, all of them follow his lead, dipping in polite greeting. It happens so fast you almost forget to respond, eventually bowing back awkwardly, your cheeks warming. “Is this Y/N?” Chan asks, voice warm and lilting with that familiar Aussie accent Felix also had. His tone is friendly, no barrier of formality, and the smile that slowly spreads across his face makes dimples appear in the soft light of the studio. Your heart flutters as the question sounds like he's genuinely interested in you.

“She is!” Felix swiftly moves to your side, clutching again at the fabric of your black dress sleeve like you might fly away if he let go. His entire being radiates pride. “I’m so happy you guys remembered me talking about her.” Hyunjin steps closer with a tiny giggle.

“This is Y/N?” he repeats, and he just simply smiles clearly excited to meet you. You remember Felix saying he talked about you but with Hyunjin being so cheerful you only now begin to imagine how much. Another voice chimes in from the back.

“Felix literally never shuts up about you. Finally, we get to see if you’re real.” The room fills with soft chuckles, light teasing clearly filled with affection, as who you can guess is Lee Know receives a small fake punch from Felix.

"We’re happy to finally meet you. We were just about to get back to work,” Bang Chan says warmly, hands clasping together as if to gently reign in the situation around him. His voice carries easily through the room , deep and velvety, the kind of tone that sounds like it’s meant for late-night conversations and quiet reassurances. The other members immediately groan in protest, a chorus of exaggerated complaints filling the air. Han throws his head back dramatically, stomping his feet in mock frustration.

“But Chan, we just started having fun!” He only laughs in return, the sound low and easy, and for a moment you can’t help but stare. His laugh isn’t the booming kind , it’s controlled, soft, but it vibrates with genuine amusement that seems to ripple through the room and calm everyone a little. Then he looks back at you, dimples faintly appearing again as he adds, “But please, feel free to talk to us and hang out! We’re so glad you’re here.” Something in the way he says it really calms you down, it's funny because you had prepared yourself to meet a picture-perfect version of someone who only existed in your imagination, but this real version of Bang Chan, with his faint smile lines, his soft confidence, and that quiet aura of warmth, was so much better. And a lot easier to be around too! Eventually, Chan gently claps his hands once to gather everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s give Felix some space. He’s got a few lines to record, yeah?” He looks to you, offering an almost boyish grin. “You don’t mind hanging out with the rest of us, right?” You shake your head quickly, smiling.

"Not at all.” He nods, satisfied, and gestures for everyone to spread out and make room for you. Felix slips into the recording booth, shooting you a grin and a thumbs-up before the door shuts behind him. The energy in the room instantly shifts. What follows is simple yet heart warming as you begin to talk to everyone else. It's this nice kind of refreshing in the best way.

Changbin immediately flexes his arms in front of you, proudly showing off muscles that could probably crush a watermelon. “Not bad, right?” he says, smirking in that self-assured way that only lasts for a little until your attention goes else we're and your phone goes off. It's got a notification about the New Jeans court case. “Wait, New Jeans?” His entire demeanor flips. The tough guy act evaporates as he sits up eagerly, eyes wide with excitement. “Oh no way! I have been such a big fan of them for forever, I'm so happy you like them too. What's your favorite song? What about member?” He pauses for a moment to catch his breath and let out a giggle. “But I also get it's so hard to pick just one of them. They're all so amazing.* You laugh, trying to answer as he practically vibrates in his seat, running through the members one by one. “No, seriously,” he insists, “Their music is so catchy too! I've been trying to convince them to let me join their group but I guess they can't let in a guy.” He jokes and You bite your lip to keep from laughing too loud, his enthusiasm too genuine to mock.

Meanwhile, Seungmin sits nearby, pretending to focus on his phone. You make some light comment about how quiet he’s being, and without missing a beat, he throws a pillow straight at you making you yelp and burst into laughter. “Seungmin!” Chan says from across the room, his voice more amused than stern, “don’t terrorize Y/Nnie!”

"Wasn’t terrorizing,” Seungmin mutters, looking smug, and you can tell he’s not sorry in any way. Chan shakes his head, smiling in that way that tells you this is probably a regular occurrence. At some point, Lee Know ends up sitting beside you, and the two of you start talking about hobbies. He opens up easily after a bit, telling you about the ballet class he’s been taking. His voice softens when he talks about his girlfriend , apparently a dancer herself, feisty and stubborn, but according to him, “absolutely incredible.” There’s this little shine in his eyes when he speaks about her that makes your heart warm.

“You sound proud of her,” you say softly.

“I am,” he replies with a small smile. “She’s one of those people that make you want to be better, y’know?” You nod, smiling back, and glance across the room toward Bang Chan. He’s leaning over the control board, focused on Felix’s recording, lips parted slightly as he listens carefully through the headphones. His hands move deftly over the sliders, adjusting levels, his expression concentrated but calm. There’s something so captivating about the way he works , patient, grounded, the kind of focus that comes from loving what you do. And you can’t help but notice that same care he shows everyone here , the same quiet kindness in how he corrects a mistake gently, how he praises Felix over the intercom, how he looks up every now and then just to give you a quick, reassuring smile.

Every time he does, your stomach flips in all sorts of directions.

Eventually, the recording just stops, and the air in the studio melts into a comfortable buzz of laughter and warmth. Everyone’s sprawled around, I.N leaning on a chair with his hair sticking up in all directions, Hyunjin dramatically fanning himself with a lyric sheet, Seungmin pretending to fall asleep mid-conversation, and Bang Chan half-smiling as he cleans up the scattered water bottles and snack wrappers that seem to multiply in the corners.

It’s not as crazy as before, but it’s lively and somewhat cozy. You can feel the sense of family between them. The teasing, the laughter, the small inside jokes you barely understand but laugh at anyway because the energy is contagious. For once, you don’t feel like you’re intruding. It’s rare, feeling this kind of comfort with new people. You’d forgotten how good it felt to just exist around others without feeling like you had to perform. You think about your own friends, how most of your hangouts revolve around fashion, social media trends, and little updates about who’s dating who. You love them deeply, but this is different. This feels grounded, like real life. There’s laughter, sure, but also stories about struggles, the creative process, and dumb little moments that make you realize how human they all are. You didn’t expect to fit in here, but somehow, you do. That’s when Lee Know suddenly chimes in, his voice playful yet mischievous. “Chan doesn’t have a girlfriend though,” he says, and the sentence drops like a spark in the middle of the group.

Bang Chan immediately freezes, his eyes narrowing as he gives Lee Know a look that screams why would you say that right now as a small pink shivers across his cheeks. But Lee Know just smirks and shrugs. “What? It’s true! All of us have someone, but he’s the only one still single.” The others start chuckling, and you blink in disbelief.

“Wait, seriously?”

Bang Chan’s lips part in embarrassment, his dimple showing as he gives a shy laugh. His hand goes to the back of his neck, his fingers brushing the edge of his beanie as he looks down. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he says softly, his voice carrying that same soothing lilt that first made your heart flutter. “I’ve just… never really had the time, I guess.” You stare at him, genuinely surprised. The way Felix always talked about him, you’d imagined Bang Chan as someone effortlessly confident and maybe even a little flirtatious, but in person, he’s different. He’s gentle, humble, and so incredibly sweet. The studio light catches the faint sheen of sweat on his temples, his dark eyes sincere beneath the soft strands of hair that fall across his forehead. His shoulders are broad, yet the way he shifts nervously makes him seem almost boyish.

“Lots of girls want me,” he continues, chuckling awkwardly, “but most of the time, it’s like… they have this idea of me that’s completely different from who I actually am.” he puffs out his cheeks slightly now making eye contact with the floor. “They want Idol Bang Chan but majority of them don't really care about how I am outside of performing Red lights or Escape.” The others nod knowingly, and you feel your chest tighten at the vulnerability in his tone. “If I ever date someone,” he adds quietly, glancing up at you for just a moment, “I’d rather they know me for me… not the guy they think I am.” Your breath catches. His gaze meets yours for a fleeting second, but it’s enough to make your stomach twist in that strange, warm way that only happens when you see someone a little too clearly. There’s sincerity in his eyes, and something about it draws you in like a magnet. You nod slowly, pressing your red-tinted lips together as if to hide your smile.

"Yeah,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “That makes a lot of sense.” You figured it was normal, but at the same time, you understood exactly how it felt to have people think you were one way when you were really another. Everyone always had an idea of who you were before they even met you, an image, a label, a version of you they built from rumors or assumptions. For you, people were always surprised you weren’t some cold, heartless person. They’d see your resting expression or the way you dressed and think you were distant, maybe even mean, when in reality, you were anything but. You’d lost count of how many times someone had told you, “You’re actually really nice,” like it was a shock.

You couldn’t imagine what it must feel like for him, Bang Chan, to have that pressure multiplied by thousands of people watching, judging, expecting. The thought of it made your chest ache a little. More guys than you could count had made fun of you or treated you like you were some kind of monster before you’d even had the chance to say a word. They never said it outright, but you could see it in their eyes, the flicker of judgment, the dismissal, the way they looked right through you. So to imagine Chan having to carry that weight all the time, trying to live up to this impossible, spotless version of himself, well, it hurt in a way you didn’t expect. Your heart ached for him, not out of pity, but out of understanding. Because people often forgot that being human meant making mistakes. It meant being messy and unsure and occasionally saying the wrong thing. No one was meant to be perfect all the time. You believed that it wasn’t about avoiding mistakes, it was about what you did after them. How you treated people, how you grew, how you tried again even when it hurt.

You wondered if he ever got tired of trying to be everyone’s role model. Of being the one who had to hold it together when everyone else was allowed to fall apart. Maybe that’s why his laughter had sounded so genuine earlier, why his smile had been so warm, because even just for a moment, surrounded by friends and music and easy conversation, he got to just be. And as you looked at him again, his soft eyes focused on something across the room, his lips curved in that faint, dimpled smile, you realized you weren’t just admiring him. You saw him. The real him. And somehow, that made your heart flutter even more.

As the day drags on, the sun dips below the horizon, and the faint hum of the city night replaces the laughter echoing through the studio halls. You realize, almost with a jolt, you’ve been there far longer than you intended. What was supposed to be a short visit had turned into a full day of pure fun. You’d lost track of time completely, pulled into the whirlwind of energy that was Felix and his friends. Between the bowls of snacks being passed around, the inside jokes flying across the room, and the endless laughter that made your stomach ache and your eyes water, you hadn’t once thought to check your phone. In all fairness, the studio had no windows, meaning there was no natural reminder that time was slipping away. The walls were padded, the lights warm and soft, the air filled with music and laughter. It was like being in a little bubble where the outside world didn’t exist. But reality hit when you finally reached for your bag and saw the time. It had been nearly eight hours since you’d left your house. Eight hours since you’d last thought about work, or responsibilities, or anything beyond the comforting, noisy presence of the boys around you.

“Do you have to go?” Han whines dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch and kicking his legs like a child mid-tantrum. It’s so over the top that you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head.

"Yes, I do,” you reply, your voice soft but teasing. “Some of us have to be up early Tomorrow and do actual work.” You joke because you do highly respect being an idol, and you don't mean to be rude whatsoever. His eyes go wide and then narrow at your words, giving a pretend scowl, and the others burst into laughter. Even quiet Seungmin cracks a grin at your joke snickering slightly. You give them all a sad smile before pushing yourself up from the couch, stretching your stiff legs. “I have an early shift tomorrow, and I really don’t want to be a zombie.” A chorus of groans and protests follows your words, half-joking, half-genuine. You catch sight of Felix and I.N in the corner, both in their own little world, laughing so hard that I.N’s head is thrown back and Felix’s freckles crinkle with joy. You can’t help but smile softly at the sight. It’s rare to see him this happy and free.

“Oh! Don’t worry about me,” Felix says once he notices you hovering near the door, his tone breathless from laughter. “I’ll just have someone else drive me, Y/N. It’s no big deal.” You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make someone else deal with your sorry butt.” He sticks his tongue out at you now blue from a dumb dumb, but he quickly breaks into laughter.

"I’ll be fine! But do you want me to walk you out?” It’s sweet, so Felix of him to offer, but you can tell he’s hoping you’ll say no. He doesn’t want to leave the fun, not when the energy in the room is still buzzing and warm. You open your mouth to reply, torn between letting him stay and secretly wanting his company on the short walk out. But before you can even get a word out, a quiet, steady voice cuts through the chatter.

“I can!” Bang Chan says without a hint of hesitation, already standing and slipping into his jacket before anyone can object. His confidence catches you completely off guard. He doesn’t even wait for your response, he just decides with that soft, easy grin, like he’s known all along that you’d say yes. Your eyes widen, and a faint blush creeps up your cheeks before you can stop it. Throughout the day, he’s definitely made your heart flutter more than once, the way he’d laugh with his whole face, the way he’d tilt his head when you spoke, listening so intently that it made you want to keep talking forever, but now? Now it feels like your heart is beating just a little too fast. He glances toward Felix, who looks both surprised and a little too pleased. “I’ll make sure she gets to her car safely!” Chan calls out with a friendly pat on Felix’s shoulder, and Felix grins, eyes sparkling with the kind of teasing treat that makes you want to roll your eyes and laugh all at once.

“Alright, but don’t scare her away, hyung!” Felix jokes, earning a soft laugh from the rest of the group. You can tell by the way they’re all pretending not to watch you two and that they’re definitely going to tease him about this later. You both step outside into the night air, and the sudden quiet feels almost surreal after hours of noise and laughter. The studio door closes behind you, muffling the last traces of music, and for a moment, it’s just you and Chan. The parking lot stretches ahead, still, peaceful, and washed in a silver-blue glow from the moon. The stars are faint but visible, sprinkled across the dark sky like tiny sparks. You almost blend in but stick out in this glowing sort of way. Chan can't help but think you look slightly like a goddess with how the street lights envelope you. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the chill brushing your skin as your heels click softly against the pavement.

"Thanks for letting Felix invite me,” you say after a moment, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “I know it must have been a little awkward having a random person show up, but I had a really great time.” Chan shakes his head quickly, his expression sincere.

"Awkward? Not at all. You fit right in, honestly. The guys really liked you.” You glance down, smiling shyly as you adjust the hem of your black skirt, lifting it slightly so it’s easier to walk. The night breeze tugs gently at the fabric, brushing against your legs, and your bracelets jingle softly as your hands move. He walks beside you, a respectful distance apart, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. The studio light glows faintly behind you both, outlining him in a soft halo. His posture is relaxed, but there’s something quietly careful about the way he walks next to you, like he’s making sure you feel safe without ever needing to say it out loud. “So of course,” he says finally, his tone gentle. “It was really nice to talk to you…” His voice trails off for a moment, and you turn your head slightly toward him, curious. He seems deep in thought, eyes glinting beneath the overhead light. Then he speaks again, quieter this time, almost like he’s thinking out loud. “You’re a lot different than I had originally imagined.”

You stop mid-step, tilting your head to the side. “Different?” you repeat, unsure how to take it. You had thought he was different then other guys and had really paid attention to you today. Had you been wrong? You knew the feeling of being judged all too well, was this just another situation? A dozen thoughts run through your head in an instant, Was that good? Bad? Did he think you’d be colder? Weirder? Less interesting? More? You let out a little laugh to mask your nerves. “What, did you think I was gonna be some scary weirdo?” He laughs softly, his dimples appearing even in the dim light, and shakes his head.

“In a good way!” he says quickly, his tone earnest, like he’s desperate for you to believe him. “You’re exactly like Felix described, but… even better.” And then he smiles, this real, warm, heart-melting smile that reaches his eyes and makes them glow softly beneath the golden parking lot light. It’s the kind of smile that feels like it was made just for you, gentle but powerful enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Your heart soars as he calms every worry inside your mind. You can feel the blush rising to your cheeks again, your chest fluttering like it’s filled with butterflies. You try to look away, but your eyes find him again, his dark hair slightly tousled under his beanie, his jawline sharp in the glow of the streetlamp, and his eyes impossibly kind.

"Even better, huh?” you say softly, trying to sound casual, but your voice gives you away. He chuckles under his breath, glancing at you with a look that lingers just long enough to make you forget what you were about to say next.

For a few seconds, neither of you speak. The only sound is the wind moving gently through the trees and the faint hum of the city in the distance. You both look in the corner of your eyes as bats fly up above, just two soaring high making small noises together. But when you look back down he isn't looking at the enchanting bats, or the beautiful night sky, or even the floor but he's looking directly at you. You think maybe he'll avoid eye contact like he has been all day but this time he truly smiles as you can see a light crimson appear on his cheeks.

And that smile, that smile, has your head reeling. Because you finally see this whole time he’s been no better off than you. His posture might be casual, but his eyes give him away completely. The same playful glimmer that had danced there earlier returns, only now there’s something deeper behind it. Something intentional. His gaze drifts over you, not in a way that feels heavy or invasive, but like he’s trying to memorize every little detail, from the sparkle still lingering in the corner of your eyes to the way your skirt sways softly when you shift your weight. His eyes trail back up to yours, and when they meet, it feels like a spark jumping between you both. There’s something unspoken in that look, something real. You can feel it, the quiet curiosity, the want to know you better. His eyes hold that kind of promise, subtle but unmistakable. The kind that says so much that simple words can't even describe it.

And you can’t even pretend not to notice the way your heart answers back with a flutter. The red on your cheeks deepens, standing out against the pale smoothness of your makeup, as if your body has decided to betray you, to announce your feelings before you’ve even found the words for them. You bite the inside of your lip and look away for a second, trying to collect yourself, but it’s no use. You feel it, that pull. Because you understand what he means without him ever saying it. You’d felt the same feeling hours ago, back when you caught him laughing across the room, or when his voice wrapped around your name like it had always belonged there. It isn’t a shocking kind of realization, it’s not disappointment, or confusion, or fear. It’s a surprise, yes, but the kind that makes your chest tighten in the best possible way.

He’s not who you imagined. He’s better. Not some flawless, idealized version your mind had built from Felix’s stories, but real, authentic and grounded and quietly kind. He’s better because he laughs too loudly sometimes, and his eyes crease when he smiles, and he talks with his hands when he’s excited. He’s better because he’s not trying to be anyone else. And maybe, just maybe, he thinks the same of you. Because the way he’s looking at you right now, with that soft, open admiration, feels like he’s seeing through every layer you’ve ever built to protect yourself. As though he’s memorizing you, not the version people assume you are.

He’s better than any dream you could’ve had of him. And you’re better than any imagined version he could’ve pictured in his head.

The air between you is heavy with something unspoken yet comforting, fragile yet magnetic. Neither of you rushes to break it, letting the silence stretch and hum with possibility until you reach your car. Chan shifts on his feet, hands still tucked into his jacket pockets, his voice dropping to a softer tone that sends another ripple through your chest. “We’re scheduled for the studio again next Friday,” he says, his accent curling gently around the words. “If you want to come…” His eyes flicker up to yours, uncertain yet hopeful. “I’d really like that.” The corners of your lips lift before you even think to stop them.

“I would love that,” you say quietly, and you mean it. You feel it. The thought of seeing him again, of hearing his laugh, of sitting beside him while music fills the room, sends tiny sparks of excitement racing through your stomach. For a moment, you both stand there in the soft hum of the night, the sound of the wind and the faint buzz of the city surrounding you. The electricity between you still there and painfully obvious.

Because no matter what you look like, how you act, or what anyone has ever assumed about you, there’s something about Bang Chan that makes all those voices fade away. Around him, you stop thinking about what people see, you just are. And as you watch him turn to head back toward the studio, his hand lifting in a small, casual wave, you realize something simple but wonderful.