they're off stage. the cheers are still ringing somewhere in the distance, caught in the branches of cherry blossoms and echoing against the back of her skull like a second heartbeat—but they’re off stage.

and for now, that’s enough.

heejin leans against the railing, one arm slung loosely over it as she tilts her head toward the lake. lights shimmer across the water, pink and gold and soft white, like the whole festival’s still glowing just for them. it’s pretty. a little surreal, if she lets herself think about it too hard. so she doesn’t.

not yet.

instead, she glances sideways, eyes drifting toward the person next to her with a kind of quiet awareness. “hey,” she says, voice low, steady, familiar—like they’ve already had half this conversation before.

“you did so well.” it’s not said in that empty, automatic way people throw around post-stage. she means it. and not just about the performance.

she doesn’t name it directly—not the pressure hana’s been under since debut, not the way she always seems to be doing just a little more, smiling just a little wider, trying just a little harder. but it’s all there in the way heejin offers her a small water bottle and lets the silence stretch comfortably between them.

“we held it down today,” she adds, lips curling into something fond, a little tired but proud. “even if the confetti nearly took me out at the end.”

a beat passes.

despite training for almost three years, jiho can't say that she made a lot of friends as a trainee. perhaps it was due to her naturally shy demeanor, but she found herself sticking to the back or practicing on her own. that's not to say that she didn't make friends as a trainee, but she found it rather difficult.

that's why it took the girl code members being finalized for her to truly open up to the rest of her members. if jiho had to choose a member she needed the most time to get closer to, it would be hana. both of them had similar personalities where they stuck to themselves. truthfully, jiho can't say she knew much about hana when they were both trainees. at most, she simply knew of the other's existence and was quite shocked when she heard that they'd be debuting together.

it took some time, but now jiho can say that she feels like they've really connected. she had the girl code hate train to thank for that, as silly as it sounded. trauma bonding was a thing — that's something jiho learned the hard way.

comeback season is always the roughest. there’s an exhilarating thrill to knowing that ahseop—along with his group—survived yet another grueling year in the ever-demanding industry that he dove head first into in hopes of chasing a rudimentary dream. it doesn’t make it any easier though, going through late nights memorizing a choreography until it’s seared into his brain. it gets harder these days, years into his career with no song to his name but an excessive amount of eyes following his every move. it drives him towards habits he’d rather keep under wraps, just to quiet the noises in his head—only temporarily, though.

back in the building, ahseop knows what he smells like, smoke wafting throughout the air. at the very least, he should shed his jacket, lessen the amount of fumes sticking to his person. get a perfume one of their richer fans gave them and make use of it, just in case. the hallway is mostly empty, save for the janitor making his rounds. there’s probably a few others, working late into the night like he decided to do. he’s about to hit his curfew, but he stops by a vending machine to get a drink, only to run into @witheredflowxrs who seems to have had the same trail of thought.

“hey, if it isn’t my favourite sweetea!” the greeting is overly familiar, coupled with the usual bout of teasing he’d throw at hana. she should be used to it at this point. “wait, you don’t claim to be. hm, my favourite fan then?” he laughs, poking her arm with his elbow. “you’re working on your comeback too, aren’t you? you need to teach me your moves later on!” he reminds her playfully.

xiyue’s schedule has been so packed that he’s found himself falling asleep whenever he has the time to space out. he likes their title song this time, so it has been a bit fun performing on the stage. whenever the spotlights are on, or the cheers from their audience roars — it breathes life into him, for a few minutes. and then it’s gone, he’s back to his other, mundane idol activities. the tiredness seeps into his shoulders. xiyue keeps himself focused by watching the other idols’ performances after recording for mcountdown, loosely mumbling the lyrics of the songs they’re promoting.

girl code’s ‘hot’ has been stuck in his head. it’s an addictive song, really. it’s pretty nice. xiyue has seen them around sometimes, but he’s never quite stepped up to talk to any of them other than plain, common courtesies. xiyue doesn’t wants to get into any stupid, weird scandals from just hanging around with a girl. the other party wouldn’t deserve it either, he just knows that his delusional fanbase would get fired up over it.

when xiyue sees an opportunity to ask for a dance challenge though, he takes it. just a dance challenge wouldn’t hurt, he’ll be sure to stay a few steps away from them. he makes the calculations in his head, and then fakes a smile. lively, refreshing, yet also a little cheeky. “hello~ hana-ssi, right? i really like your song!” xiyue exclaims, then blinks. “if you have the time, do you want to do the dance challenge…?” he asks as he clasps his hand, as if excitedly waiting for a response. it’ll be a yes, right?