Queen Shy

“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear jihyo, happy birthday to you”

you’re all singing, off-key and laughing, hands clapping on the table as the small cake sits in the centre, its candles flickering in the restaurant’s warm light. the sound of “happy birthday” mixes with the low hum of other voices around you, a familiar chaos of plates and music and chatter. your throat vibrates with laughter more than melody.

jihyo has her cheeks flushed pink, her eyes half-shy, half-glowing. she leans closer to blow the candles and the flame wavers, then disappears into smoke that smells faintly sweet.

“make a wish”, nayeon, one of your friends says, and she closes her eyes for a heartbeat too long, a small smile tugging at her lips.

the table is full of empty plates now, small bowls scattered with leftovers and sauce stains. there’s soju, half-finished cocktails, a mess of chopsticks leaning in the same direction, a sign of comfort and belonging.

you can feel the weight of the evening in your chest. laughter spills easily between you, words slurring slightly from the drinks, stories overlapping.

your friends talk over each other, and you just sit there for a moment, watching them. the way their faces light up when they speak, the way the birthday girl keeps brushing her hair back when she laughs.

you reach for your bag and pull out the small box you’ve wrapped clumsily that afternoon. 

“here”, you say, sliding it across the table.

“oh my god”, jihyo says, her voice already breaking into laughter, “you didn’t have to”

“of course i did”

the others start handing her their gifts too, a pile of boxes and ribbons gathering like evidence of care. she unwraps them one by one, each time with a little squeal, a comment, something that sends all of you into another wave of laughter.

time moves softly like that. the restaurant grows quieter as people leave, the air heavier with the smell of food and spilled drink. the music shifts to something slower. your table feels like a bubble of warmth in the dim space.

eventually, jihyo checks her phone.

“i think they’re closing soon, we should leave”

“it’s still early”, nayeon says.

“we can’t just go home”, dahyun adds.

jihyo thinks for a moment and, with her chin on her hand, says “let’s go somewhere else”

you step outside together, the door closing behind you with a muted thud, and the city greets you with its cool night air. the street hums with movement - voices, laughter, music from different places and a saxophone playing somewhere down the block. neon signs blink lazily above crowded sidewalks, and you fall into step beside your friends, the four of you weaving through groups of strangers.

it’s saturday night, and everyone seems to be your age, dressed for something, all moving in the same current of noise and light. your heels click against the pavement, your breath visible in the faint chill.

“karaoke?”, dahyun suggests.

“too loud”

“bar?”

“we’ve been to all of them here”

you walk past rows of glowing windows, each offering something - music, smoke, colour, drinks - but nothing feels right. the night stretches ahead, waiting.

then, as you turn a corner, you see it. the sign is bright but slightly old-fashioned, letters framed in yellow light: bingo.

you stop without meaning to, and jihyo follows your gaze.

“we have to go in”, she says immediately.

“a bingo?”, dahyun laughs, “isn’t that for old people?”

“so what? it’ll be fun. come on, it’s my birthday, you have to do everything i say”

she’s already heading towards the door, and between the laughter and her mock-pleading look, there’s no real choice.

“fine”, you say, smiling.

you push the door open together and as it closes behind you, the sound of the city dulls into a low hum. inside, everything is bathed in a kind of amber light, warm but slightly faded, like a memory. rows of round tables fill the room, covered in a bluish green felt that’s worn at the edges. above, long lamps hang low, each one casting a soft golden circle that glows against the muted air.

the place smells faintly of food and old paper. it’s quieter than you expected, but not silent, a mix of murmured voices, the faint clicking of pens, the creak of chairs. the people here are mostly older, faces calm and focused, but not all. there are a few younger ones scattered around, sitting in small groups, laughing too loudly for the setting.

“oh my god, it’s so serious in here”, nayeon whispers, stifling a giggle as her eyes scan the room.

jihyo just grins, “it’s perfect. we’re changing the vibe tonight”

you follow her through the narrow space between tables until you find one empty. the chairs scrape lightly as you sit. a few heads turn towards your group, maybe because of the laughter that hasn’t quite left your voices, but it doesn’t last. everyone returns to their cards and screens, their focus elsewhere.

a woman with short hair and a kind face comes over, handing each of you a bingo card and a small plastic tray filled with chips and pens of different colours.

“first timers?”, she asks.

“does it show?”, dahyun grins, already poking at the chips like they’re candy.

the woman laughs softly, explaining the basics - how to mark the numbers with the chips or pens, how the prizes work, how not to shout “bingo” unless you’re sure. when she leaves, you all look at each other like students who’ve just been handed an impossible exam.

“okay”, nayeon says, “who’s going to mess up first?”

“you”, dahyun answers instantly.

“rude”

jihyo leans back, her eyes gleaming, “i’m feeling lucky. i’m definitely winning tonight”

“birthday privilege”, you say, nudging her with your elbow, “that’s cheating”

“no such thing. it’s my night”

the four of you fall into that easy rhythm again, laughter spilling out, teasing layered over warmth. dahyun pretends to calculate her odds like a mathematician, nayeon keeps forgetting how she’s supposed to mark the numbers, jihyo waves her card dramatically like it’s a trophy in advance.

you sit there, your chin resting on your hand, watching the light dance over the plastic chips. it feels strange and comforting at once - being in this small, slightly outdated room, the kind of place you’d usually pass without a thought. there’s a certain tenderness in the routine of it, in the quiet excitement of the people around you.

music plays faintly somewhere near the back - something soft, instrumental, nearly drowned out by the rustle of cards.

“okay, between us, what do we win if one of us gets the bingo?”, nayeon says, her voice a little too loud.

“respect”, dahyun answers.

“boring. i want a prize”

jihyo tilts her head, pretending to think, “losers buy the winner ice cream after this”

“deal”, you say, smiling.

the first numbers haven’t even been called yet, but you’re all already leaning in, whispering nonsense, laughing at nothing. your voice blends with theirs until you don’t know who said what - just the sound of it, bright and familiar.

and then, between the noise and the movement, dahyun suddenly stops mid-laugh.

“wait”, she says quietly, glancing towards the side of the room, “don’t look now, but i think one of the waiters is staring at you, y/n”

you blink, caught off guard, “what? no, he’s not”

“i’m serious”, she insists, lowering her voice further, “he’s been looking over here for a while”

jihyo perks up immediately, grinning, “what? who?”

“don’t turn around”, dahyun whispers, which of course makes everyone want to.

nayeon’s already hiding her smile behind her hand. 

“this is ridiculous”, you say, trying to sound casual, though your chest feels light and uncertain, “you’re imagining things”

“i’m not”, dahyun says, “okay, fine, just- look, but be subtle”

“subtle?”, nayeon snorts softly, “as if we know how to do that”

“shh!”

you roll your eyes, but your curiosity wins. you glance over your shoulder, just for a second, pretending to look towards the counter.

and you see him.

a boy about your age, standing near the bar with a tray hugged to his chest. his tie is tied firmly around his neck, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. he’s talking to someone beside him, but his gaze flickers back to your table - to you - almost at the same moment you look.

it’s brief, just a second, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch slightly.

you turn back around quickly, your heart fluttering in that strange, tiny way that doesn’t make sense yet.

dahyun catches your expression immediately. 

“see?”, she whispers, triumphant.

“he wasn’t looking at me”, you say, too quickly.

“oh, he was”, jihyo adds, smirking, “and you just made eye contact”

you shake your head, laughing despite yourself, “you’re all impossible”

the numbers start being called then, voices and laughter fading into the background hum of the game. but the warmth lingers in your chest, a warmth that has nothing to do with the lights or the drinks or even the jokes.

you look down at your card, pen hovering over the first number, and tell yourself it’s just another part of the night.

just another moment.

everyone’s heads tilt towards their cards. chips clink lightly against the tables as they’re placed down. the air shifts, a kind of quiet alertness settles in, broken by the occasional cough or laugh.

you hold your pen loosely, waiting. your friends are already restless.

“thirty-two!”, the caller says, voice rising and falling in a practiced rhythm.

“that’s me”, nayeon whispers, marking her card with too much triumph.

jihyo rolls her eyes, “her first number and she’s already celebrating”

“confidence is key”, nayeon says, tapping her pen like a drumstick.

the next number comes, and the next. you start to fall into the slow rhythm of it, the pause between each call, the small bursts of sound from your table - laughter, sighs, the occasional groan when none of you have the number.

and then, in the middle of it, there’s movement - someone passing near your table. you don’t look up right away, but you feel it. the quiet awareness of being seen.

he’s walking by with a tray balanced easily in his hand, weaving through tables with the kind of focus that looks natural, almost effortless. you catch the shape of his arm in the corner of your eye - rolled sleeves, his skin glinting faintly in the warm light.

you tell yourself not to look. you mark another number instead.

but when you finally glance up, just a small, unthinking movement, you see his gaze flick towards you - brief, soft, shy, unsure - before he looks away again, pretending to adjust the tray. your pulse stumbles for a moment. you look down quickly, tracing the edge of your card with your finger.

jihyo notices immediately. she doesn’t say anything, just gives you a tiny smile that says i saw that.

you ignore her, or try to.

minutes pass like that, the slow pattern of the game, the clatter of chips, your friends’ quiet chaos. he walks by again, this time heading in the opposite direction, and it happens once more: that half-second of eye contact that feels longer than it is.

he looks away as soon as you notice. there’s a small, nervous curve to his mouth, like he knows he’s been caught. you wonder if he even realises it, or if you’re imagining the whole thing.

“okay, i swear he’s looking again”, dahyun whispers suddenly, leaning forward.

you groan under your breath, “please stop”

“i’m just saying”, she teases, “he’s definitely your type”

“you don’t even know what my type is”

“apparently it’s ‘waiters with soft eyes’”

you try not to laugh, but the way she says it - too dramatic, too pleased with herself - breaks your composure. you bite the inside of your cheek, hiding your grin behind your hand.

jihyo watches the whole exchange, “i think it’s cute”, she says, “he looks shy too”

“he’s not even looking”, you insist.

“right”, nayeon says, exaggerated and smug, “totally not looking. that’s why you keep checking”

“i’m checking because you all keep saying it!”

“uh-huh”

the teasing builds, their voices layered over the caller’s monotone numbers. you laugh until your stomach hurts, your cheeks warm from it all. it’s easy to forget for a moment that there’s someone across the room who might be glancing your way.

another number is called. dahyun groans dramatically. 

“you have to know i’m losing on purpose. this is too distracting”

“you were never winning”, jihyo says, flicking one of the chips at her.

the game moves on, and soon your table has turned into a quiet chaos of whispers and giggles again. you’re not even trying to keep up anymore.

then nayeon leans closer, voice low but full of mischief, “we should order something to drink. maybe he’ll come over”

“don’t start”, you say, already shaking your head.

“come on”, jihyo joins in, “just something small. it’s still my birthday”

“you just want an excuse”, you tell her.

“and you just don’t want to admit you’re curious”, dahyun adds.

you groan, covering your face with your hands, “you’re all unbearable”

“that’s a yes”, nayeon says.

they laugh again, and you can’t help it, you start laughing too, attempting to sound serious but you know it’s not working.

“fine”, you say between breaths, “but only if you don’t say anything weird if he comes over”

“no promises”, dahyun says, eyes shining.

jihyo raises her hand slightly, trying to catch a waiter’s attention. you reach to lower it, but it’s too late, someone’s already noticed.

someone looks up from behind the counter.

it’s him.

for a second, you think maybe he’ll send someone else. but then he nods, polite and quick, and starts walking towards your table, adjusting the tray under his arm.

your friends try to suppress their giggles, pretending to study their bingo cards with newfound seriousness. you glance down too, but your heart is already thrumming in your chest, too fast for such a small thing.

you tell yourself it’s fine. it’s nothing. just a waiter coming to take an order.

still, when his footsteps approach your table, you feel every sound around you fade, the room narrowing to this small, warm space of light and air and breath.

he stops beside your table, tray tucked under his arm, expression calm but a little uncertain. up close, the light from the hanging lamps softens his face - sharp lines made gentler, shadows catching under his lashes. there’s something careful about the way he stands, as if he’s still learning how to fill the space he’s in.

“hi”, he says, his voice low and steady, “can i get you something?”

the four of you answer all at once, a mess of overlapping words and half-laughs. jihyo, glowing from her birthday high, waves a hand vaguely towards the menu on the table.

“we were thinking something light”, she says, “it’s my birthday, so we should celebrate a little”

his eyes flick towards her briefly, and you watch the moment he nods - polite, small smile forming. 

“happy birthday”, he says softly.

“thank you”, she grins.

you’re quiet, pretending to study the drink list even though you’ve already seen it twice. your fingers trace the edge of the laminated page. the room feels suddenly too bright, too aware of sound - the shuffle of feet, the hum of the noises around you, the faint echo of numbers being called at the other end of the hall.

nayeon clears her throat with exaggerated subtlety, “maybe we should get something with fruit in it”, she says, eyes flicking between him and you.

“yeah”, dahyun adds quickly, “something sweet”

“but not too strong”, jihyo says, “we’re playing bingo, not going clubbing”

he laughs quietly, a small, genuine sound that makes you look up without thinking. his gaze meets yours for a second, and it’s different from before - not just a glance this time, but an acknowledgment. he looks away almost immediately, rubbing the back of his neck before taking out a small notepad.

“we have a citrus spritzer”, he says, “or a plum soda cocktail. both are pretty mild”

“that sounds perfect”, jihyo says, “we could start with four of those? and then we can order something different if we want later”, she looks around the table for agreement.

“yeah”, nayeon says, pretending to consult you, “right?”

you nod quickly, “sounds good”

he scribbles it down, pen moving in neat, quick strokes. you catch the faint sound of it, the scratch against paper, and it feels too loud in the moment.

“i’ll bring them right over”, he says, and there’s a pause, a half-second where his eyes lift again, just slightly, meeting yours. it’s not bold. it’s careful, like he’s checking if it’s okay to hold your gaze for that long.

you nod, more out of instinct than intention and then he’s gone, weaving back through the tables, disappearing into the soft glow near the counter.

as soon as he’s out of earshot, the silence at your table breaks into laughter - muffled at first, then louder, like a wave.

“you were so quiet”, nayeon says, pointing at you, “what happened to your voice?”

“i was just ordering”, you say, trying to sound casual.

“you were whispering”, dahyun says, giggling, “like you were afraid to scare him away”

jihyo rests her chin on her hand, still smiling, “he seems nice”

you roll your eyes, but it’s no use. the corners of your mouth betray you, turning up without permission, “you’re all ridiculous”

“we’re observant”, nayeon corrects, “huge difference”

they laugh again, and you lean back in your chair, exhaling slowly. the warmth in your cheeks hasn’t faded yet, and you tell yourself it’s just from the room - the lights, the air, the noise, the people there.

across the hall, the game continues. numbers are being called, cards marked, chips shuffled. the rhythm of it returns, but something in you stays just slightly off-beat.

when you glance up again - just casually, you tell yourself - you catch sight of him behind the counter, mixing drinks with careful movements. and for a moment, when he turns to set the glasses on a tray, you think you see him glance your way again.

only for a heartbeat.

you look back down at your card, pretending to focus, heart drumming quietly under the noise of the room.

he comes back sooner than you expect. you hear the faint clink of glass before you see him, the tray balanced easily in his hand again. the drinks catch the light, soft colours that shift as he walks, pale gold and pink, each one glowing like something fragile.

you straighten a little in your seat without meaning to. jihyo is mid-sentence, laughing at something dahyun said, but even she stops when he sets the tray down.

“here you go”, he says, his tone careful, practiced, but not distant. 

he moves around the table, placing each drink in front of you one by one. when he reaches your side, the edge of the glass brushes against your fingertips as he sets it down. it’s nothing - just an accident, a moment too small to mean anything - but it sends a small ripple through your chest.

“thank you”, you say, smiling softly at him, your voice barely above the noise of the room.

he nods, a small curve at the corner of his mouth, then straightens the tray under his arm, “i hope you like them. they’re a bit sweet, but they go well with the games”

jihyo lifts her glass immediately, “this looks amazing”, she says, raising it a little in the air, “cheers to that”

he gives a soft laugh - a quick exhale through his nose - and you can tell he’s not used to people being this loud, this unguarded here.

“cheers”, nayeon echoes, clinking her glass against jihyo’s.

you join in, the soft sound of glass meeting glass ringing for a moment between you. the drink tastes good - citrus and sugar and something cool that catches at the back of your tongue.

he’s still standing there, tray tucked close, like he’s waiting to make sure everything’s fine before leaving. his eyes flick briefly around the table, then to you.

“is it good?”

you nod quickly, “yeah. it’s really good”

“good”, he says, and that small word carries something like relief.

dahyun glances at jihyo, then at you, and you can feel the wave of shared amusement start to rise again. jihyo hides a smile behind her glass. nayeon pretends to cough into hers. you shoot them a warning look, the kind that says please don’t.

but the silence that follows is too much, too aware of itself. so jihyo breaks it, her tone light and easy, “you work here every weekend?”

he blinks, surprised at being spoken to again, “yeah, well, most nights, actually”

“it must get busy”, she says.

“sometimes”, he answers, glancing towards the rows of tables where people are marking cards, their concentration unbroken, “tonight’s quieter than usual”

“then we’re making up for it”, dahyun says, grinning.

he laughs again, this time more freely, “maybe a little”

the sound is soft, and you find yourself smiling before you can stop it. it’s nothing big, just a quiet pull at your lips. you stare down at your drink, watching the condensation gather on the glass.

he shifts his weight slightly, glancing once more at the counter as someone calls his name - another staff member - a signal that he’s needed.

“enjoy the game”, he says, his voice light, polite again, but not cold.

“thanks”, jihyo answers for all of you.

when he turns to go, the air feels different. lighter somehow, but charged, like a held breath that finally lets go. as soon as he’s a few steps away, the laughter at your table comes back in a quiet rush. nayeon leans in first, whispering too loudly.

“he’s definitely shy”

“he’s just doing his job”, you protest, though your voice doesn’t sound as firm as you want it to.

“i don’t think his job usually involves that many glances”, dahyun says, eyebrows raised.

“stop”, you say, laughing despite yourself.

jihyo just smiles, swirling the ice in her drink, “you’re both shy. that’s kind of cute”

you shake your head, hiding your face in your hands, “we’ve said like five words”

“five words can be the start of a novel”, nayeon says dramatically, earning another round of laughter.

you look towards the counter again, only half-meaning to. he’s there, collecting empty glasses, talking briefly to another waiter. his posture is relaxed now, shoulders a little less tense, and when he looks up, his gaze passes your way.

you look down quickly, pretending to focus on your bingo card again. the game resumes around you, numbers echoing through the speakers, quiet gasps and cheers rising from nearby tables. but everything feels softer now, blurred at the edges.

and under the warmth of the lights, surrounded by friends and noise and the slow rhythm of the game, you can’t quite stop the small, steady smile that keeps tugging at your lips.

the game drifts towards its end slowly, like the night doesn’t quite want to finish. the air has grown heavier and quieter, the laughter around the room softens into small ripples that fade under the steady voice calling the last few numbers.

you’ve long stopped keeping track of the score. the cards lie scattered on the table, marked and half-forgotten, while empty glasses glimmer faintly in the low light.

jihyo leans her chin on her hand, smiling at nothing in particular. her cheeks are warm with colour, and there’s a looseness in her laughter now that wasn’t there before. at some point during the game, you started ordering more drinks, alcoholic ones at that.

“how are you feeling, birthday girl?”, nayeon asks, nudging her lightly.

“amazing”, jihyo says, though the word comes out slightly slurred, “this is the best birthday i’ve had in ages”

“you say that every year”, dahyun teases.

“yeah, because it’s true every year”, jihyo replies, proud of her own logic.

you laugh quietly, stacking the leftover chips into a small uneven tower. the table feels a little too small for all your laughter, your elbows, the shared weight of tired joy.

when the last number is called and someone at the far end shouts “bingo”, there’s a brief wave of applause. the game is over, and people begin to stand up, stretching, putting on coats. 

the clock on the wall blinks just past midnight. the lights in the hall shift a shade brighter, gentle but enough to make everyone blink. you start gathering your things while jihyo keeps humming under her breath, her hair falling into her face.

“come on”, you say softly, touching her arm, “let’s get you home before you start singing to the tables”

she lifts her head, grinning, “you think i’d sing to tables?”

“yes”, the other two say together, and that sets off another round of giggles.

you’re half bent over, reaching for your bag, when a shadow falls across the table. you look up and he’s there again, tray under one arm, collecting glasses from the tables. his movements are unhurried, practiced.

he doesn’t seem to notice you at first, too focused on balancing the glasses. but then his gaze flicks towards your group and jihyo notices him. she straightens, pointing a little too dramatically in his direction. 

“wait”, she says, words bubbling together with laughter, “wait, wait, wait”

“jihyo”, you warn quietly, already fearing that tone in her voice.

“no, no, listen”, she says, leaning forward, trying to look serious, “you. waiter guy”

“oh no”, dahyun mutters, hiding her face.

nayeon’s grinning, already bracing for whatever’s coming.

he pauses mid-step, polite and a little confused, “yes?”

jihyo squints at him like she’s concentrating very hard, “it’s my birthday, right? you already know that”

he nods slowly, cautious, “i remember”

“right”, she says, satisfied with his answer, “so… as my birthday gift…”, she waves her hand vaguely towards you, “you could give me your name. well, not for me, for my friend, she wans to know it”

your whole body goes still.

“jihyo”, you hiss, eyes wide, “stop it”

she turns to you, whispering far too loudly, “what? i’m being polite!”

nayeon and dahyun are doubled over, trying and failing to muffle their laughter. the sound of it fills the table, tangled with your mortified sighs.

“i’m so sorry”, you tell him quickly, your hands half-raised like you could smooth the air itself, “she’s just- you know, she’s had a few drinks-”

“lightweight”, dahyun says, grinning.

“traitor”, jihyo mumbles, still smiling.

he stands there for a moment, not quite sure whether to laugh or retreat. the corners of his mouth twitch, and then, as he reaches to gather the empty glasses from your table, he lowers his eyes briefly and says, almost under his breath but clear enough for all of you to hear. 

“minho. my name is minho”

the laughter stops, softens into surprise. you blink, caught between embarrassment and something quieter, warmer.

“oh”, you say, your voice steadier than you expect, “i’m… i’m y/n”

for a moment, that’s all there is - your voice, his quiet nod, the soft clatter of glass against the tray.

jihyo lets out a triumphant sound, “see? now we’re all friends”

“you really are something, jihyo”, nayeon says, laughing again.

you cover your face with your hand, half smiling behind it. 

“i’m so sorry”, you say again, shaking your head, “really. she didn’t mean-”

“it’s fine”, he says, and when you look up, he’s smiling, small and genuine, “happy birthday again, by the way”, he adds, glancing at jihyo.

“thank you”, she says, beaming.

you start gathering your things again, trying to move your friends towards the door. nayeon keeps giggling under her breath, and dahyun waves at him like you’re leaving a café instead of a bingo hall.

“goodnight”, you say softly.

he nods, setting the last of the glasses onto his tray, “goodnight”, he says, almost as quietly.

you turn towards the door, guiding jihyo with a hand on her elbow, the sound of her laughter echoing behind you. the night air greets you again, cooler now, calmer. and as you step outside, you glance back once, through the glass.

minho is still standing there by your table, collecting the last of the cards, a faint smile still on his face. when your eyes meet for that brief second, he lifts his gaze, then looks down again, like he’s not sure whether to hold it and that’s when the door closes softly behind you. 

jihyo loops her arm through yours, leaning just enough that you have to adjust your steps. she’s still smiling to herself, humming a tune that doesn’t really exist. nayeon walks on her other side, half guiding, half laughing, while dahyun trails behind, taking pictures of everything: the street signs, the reflection of lights on puddles, even the back of your heads.

“we should do this every saturday”, dahyun announces.

“you’d get bored”, you say.

“maybe”, she admits, “but at least the waiters were cute”

“oh, here we go”, nayeon says, eyes bright.

jihyo tightens her grip on your arm, “we were right though, weren't we?”, she says, voice sweet but smug, “he was looking at you”

“he was just doing his job”, you say, trying to keep your tone light.

“doing his job”, nayeon repeats in mock seriousness, “by staring at you from across the room like he forgot how to blink?”

you groan, hiding your face in your free hand, “you’re all impossible”

jihyo giggles against your shoulder, “he told you his name”

“because you made him”, you remind her.

“yeah, but he didn’t have to answer”

that makes the others laugh again, their voices bouncing off the buildings. you feel your cheeks warm, but you can’t help smiling too. there’s something contagious about their happiness.

you walk in loose formation down the sidewalk, dodging other people heading home, passing couples sharing food from paper cups, groups clustered under streetlights. the city feels alive, glowing faintly around you.

after a while, jihyo’s steps start to slow, her head resting briefly on your shoulder, “i’m sleepy”, she mumbles.

“we’re almost there”, you tell her.

nayeon’s still talking, describing some detail from the night when dahyun interrupts with her own version, more dramatic, full of exaggerated gestures. it’s chaotic and warm, and it keeps the walk from feeling long.

but somewhere beneath their laughter, your thoughts keep circling back - to the sound of glass on the table, to the way he said his name, soft and almost careful. minho. you repeat it in your head once, testing how it feels, then try to let it go. but it lingers. the syllables sit there quietly, refusing to fade.

by the time you reach your building, jihyo’s half-asleep, moving to lean on dahyun for support until they reach their apartments now. when you finally close your own door behind you, the apartment feels too quiet.

you go through your usual routine - setting your things down, washing your face, turning off the lights - but your mind drifts. you keep seeing the small things: his hands setting the glasses down, the way his eyes caught the light, the faint curve of his mouth when he smiled.

you sit on the edge of your bed for a moment and you think, just for a second, that maybe the girls were right, maybe he was looking at you and the thought makes you smile.

you lie down, eyes half-closed, the image of the bingo hall still bright behind them. and somewhere in that soft blur between wakefulness and sleep, you hear it again - his voice, quiet and steady. 

minho. 

the week stretches long, but it carries a strange softness. every morning feels a little like a leftover echo of that night - faint, almost gone, yet never completely disappearing.

you wake to the sound of the city outside your window, the same rhythm of buses and footsteps and voices. you go to work, talk with your coworkers, scroll through messages on your phone. everything happens the way it always does, steady and predictable. and still, every now and then, your mind drifts back.

it’s never the whole night at once. it comes in fragments: the pale light of the bingo hall, the soft murmur of numbers being called, the quiet brush of glass against your fingertips. his voice - just that one moment - returns when you least expect it, clear and simple.

minho.

you try not to think about it too much, but it slips through anyway - in the way you pause when someone says the same name at work, in the way your thoughts wander while you go home after work.

the girls don’t help.

jihyo, still proud of her matchmaking stunt, keeps bringing it up whenever you meet for lunch.

“you should’ve seen your face”, she says one day, smiling over her coffee, “you looked like you forgot how to breathe”

“i was embarrassed”, you remind her.

“you were flustered”, dahyun corrects, grinning, “there’s a difference”

nayeon leans back in her chair, arms crossed, “if we go back, you owe him a proper thank you, for being a good sport”

“we’re not going back”, you say, though you can’t quite make it sound convincing.

jihyo raises an eyebrow, “we’ll see”

the week moves on. day after day, a blur of small things: rain against the windows, the smell of tteokbokki from a food stall near the office, the sound of your phone buzzing with messages from the group chat. the others keep planning the next weekend, tossing ideas back and forth - karaoke, a movie, bowling, maybe drinks near itaewon. by friday, the group chat lights up again.

jihyo: dinner at the same place tomorrow?

dahyun: yes!

nayeon: and after?

jihyo: i think you know where

you: absolutely not

jihyo: absolutely yes

you laugh to yourself, but you don’t answer again. part of you means it - you don’t need to go back. the other part, the quiet one you try not to listen to, wants to.

saturday comes too quickly and that evening, you meet the others for dinner again. the restaurant is busy, warm with noise and light. you sit by the window this time, watching people hurry past outside. jihyo’s in her usual bright mood, already ordering for everyone, while nayeon and dahyun debate over side dishes.

the food comes, laughter follows. it’s all easy, familiar, it feels like home, like it always feels when the four of you are together. still, every time the conversation lulls, you find yourself staring out at the street, where signs glow softly against the dark.

“you’re quiet”, nayeon says, breaking a dumpling in half.

“no, just tired, long week”, you say.

“tired? or thinking about something?”, jihyo adds, eyes playful.

“or someone?”, dahyun says, and they all laugh.

“you’re all unbearable”, you say, hiding your smile behind your glass.

by the time dinner ends, it’s still early. the air outside feels cooler than last week and the street is alive again, music from open bars, the chatter of people spilling out of restaurants, laughter curling into the night.

you walk together with no real plan, turning down the same street as last time. it’s almost automatic. the others keep talking, their voices rising and falling like background music, but your heart beats a little faster when you recognise the row of glowing signs ahead. the bingo hall is still there, lit in the same soft yellow.

jihyo slows her steps, “look where we ended up again”, she says, trying to sound surprised but failing.

“coincidence?”, dahyun says, pretending to think.

“absolutely not”, nayeon answers, already grinning.

you shake your head, half-laughing, half-nervous, “no way. not again”

“come on”, jihyo says, tugging your sleeve, “it’s tradition now”

“it happened once”, you protest.

“then it’s a new tradition”, she says.

you hesitate, looking through at the sign. the light of the letters looks warmer than you remember, a soft haze against the cooler night. the low sound of voices and the faint music from the speakers reach you even here on the sidewalk.

maybe it’s the memory, or the way your heart trips a little at the thought, but you find yourself nodding your head, agreeing to their plan. just a bit too fast.  

“fine. just one round”

jihyo cheers softly, looping her arm through yours again as the others laugh. together, you push open the door. the nerves in your stomach are all familiar now, yet new again, because this time, you know what you’re hoping to see. or rather, who.

the moment you step inside, the air changes. you trail behind your friends, letting them lead the way towards an empty table. people glance up briefly as you pass, then turn back to their cards, pens poised, eyes focused. there’s a low rhythm in the room - the click of pens, the small sound of laughter, the shuffle of chairs against the floor.

and then you see him.

he’s behind the counter, leaning slightly as he stacks glasses, his head tilted down. his hair falls over his forehead in that same quiet way, catching the light. he looks almost exactly as he did last week - the same simple shirt, sleeves rolled up again, the same calm expression.

you don’t mean to stare. it just happens. your gaze catches on the small, familiar gestures - the way he checks the balance of the tray, wipes the counter once more than necessary, glances towards the tables as if measuring the room.

when he does look up, it’s quick - a flicker of movement - but his eyes find yours as if they already knew where to go. there’s a bit of surprise in his gaze, but mostly recognition. the faintest shift at the corner of his mouth, like he’s trying not to smile but doesn’t completely manage it.

you look away first, pretending to study the card in front of you as jihyo drops into the seat beside you.

“he’s here”, she whispers immediately, tone triumphant.

“don’t start”, you say, trying to sound casual.

“i’m not saying anything”, she says, which is a lie, because her grin says everything for her.

dahyun leans across the table, “do you think he remembers y/n? or maybe all of us?”

“probably”, nayeon answers before you can, “how could he forget jihyo’s birthday speech?”

“it wasn’t a speech, it was a performance”, nayeon says, and they all break into laughter again, making some heads turn at nearby tables.

you press your lips together, trying not to laugh but failing. the sound of their teasing fills the space easily, wrapping you in that familiar warmth again.

someone announces the start of the next round, the speaker crackling slightly. the girls scramble to arrange their cards, still laughing under their breath. you pick up your pen, glance once towards the counter again. he’s moving now, taking a tray from a coworker, stepping into the aisle.

the girls don’t miss it.

“look who’s coming this way”, nayeon murmurs, and three pairs of eyes turn to you instantly.

“don’t”, you whisper, but it’s too late, jihyo’s already straightened in her seat, trying to look nonchalant and failing completely.

he stops a few tables away to drop off an order, then makes his way towards yours. it’s not hurried, just the quiet, measured rhythm of someone who knows exactly where everything is.

“good night”, he says when he reaches your table, voice calm, familiar, “welcome back”

jihyo beams at him, “you remember us”

“you’re all hard to forget”, he says, his tone even but not without humor.

dahyun covers her mouth, laughing. nayeon nudges you under the table.

“i think we’ll get some drinks to start?”, jihyo says quickly, like she’s been rehearsing.

he nods, pulling out his notepad, pen poised, “okay, same as last time?”

“you remember that too?”, nayeon asks him, surprised.

“i try to”, he says. his eyes flick briefly to you then, just for a second, before moving on.

you tell yourself you’re imagining the warmth that passes through that tiny moment.

“we’ll have the same” you say softly, hoping your voice sounds steadier than it feels.

he writes it down, then glances up, “sure thing. i’ll bring them over in a minute”

as he walks away, the conversation at your table explodes immediately.

“‘welcome back’”, dahyun mimics in a dramatic whisper, “you heard that?”

“he’s smooth”, nayeon says.

“he’s polite”, you counter, rolling your eyes.

jihyo rests her chin on her hand, studying you, “you’re smiling”, she says.

“no, i’m not”

“you are”, dahyun confirms.

you give up trying to argue. the game starts - numbers are called, cards are marked, someone groans every time they miss one. the laughter returns, light and unfiltered. and still, even while you play, your mind drifts towards him.

every few minutes, your eyes flick towards the counter. you catch glimpses of him: the side of his face as he listens to another customer, the line of his shoulders as he carries a tray, the way he laughs at something one of the older players says.

it feels like the night is repeating itself, but with a different kind of awareness. you know the rhythm now but there’s something new underneath, a steady undercurrent you can’t quite name.

when he comes back with your drinks, it’s the same small moment again, the quick glances, the soft clink of glass, the brief brush of fingers, the quiet exchange of words.

“thank you”, you say, meeting his eyes for just a heartbeat.

“you’re welcome”, he answers, almost under his breath, and there’s that same, faint smile again.

he moves on to the next table, and the game continues, and your friends keep teasing. between rounds, the noise in the hall dips lower, the sound of chairs shifting and voices murmuring over the background music. you lean back in your seat, stretching your hands out. 

jihyo’s laughing at something dahyun just said, a laugh that makes her whole face light up. nayeon’s reorganising her chips in neat little lines. the light above your table flickers slightly and steadies again.

minho passes by once, collecting empty glasses from the table behind yours. you catch the movement out of the corner of your eye before you actually see him. his steps are quiet, practiced. when he stops beside your table, it’s only to ask if you need anything else. 

“are the drinks okay?”, he says, tone even, polite, but his gaze hesitates just a little before meeting yours.

“yes, they’re great”, you say, and the words come out softer and lower than you mean them to.

jihyo, who’s closest to you, smiles behind her glass, “we’re good, thank you”, she says brightly, taking over before you can say anything else.

he nods, adjusts the tray under his arm, “alright. enjoy the next round”

he leaves, and the second he’s out of earshot, dahyun leans across the table, whispering, “you talked like he was the teacher and you forgot the answer”

“what was i supposed to say?”, you ask, half laughing.

“anything”, nayeon says, grinning, “but your voice went tiny”

jihyo shakes her head, amused, “he’s just really calm, and that makes her nervous”

“i’m not nervous”, you protest, but you are smiling, and they all notice.

the next round begins, numbers called out in the same rhythmic voice. the four of you settle into the game, though the chatter never stops completely. you mark your card, glance at jihyo’s, compare your cards, argue over whose luck is worse.

every so often, you glance up, without meaning to, towards the counter, the space between tables, the brief flashes of movement where minho walks. and once or twice, he glances back. just for a second each time, not enough to catch anyone else’s attention. but enough for you to notice.

the night continues in that quiet rhythm - play, laugh, sip your drink, glance up, look away. at one point, when you stand up and go to throw something away near the counter, he’s there, stacking clean glasses.

“how’s the game going?”, he asks, looking up briefly.

“we’re terrible”, you admit, smiling, “but we’re trying”

he laughs softly, a short sound that warms the space between you, “trying’s the important part”

you nod, unsure what to say next. the silence that follows isn’t awkward, though - it just lingers gently, like neither of you minds it being there, while you look at each other.

“well… good luck, then”, he says finally, still smiling.

“thank you”, you reply.

when you walk back to your table, the others are already watching you. nayeon rests her chin in her hand, pretending to look innocent.

“what?”, you ask.

“nothing”, jihyo says, too quickly.

“she talked to him”, dahyun says in a stage whisper.

“and he laughed”, nayeon adds.

you shake your head, sitting down again, hiding your grin in your drink. the rest of the night goes by like that. the games blur together, the laughter comes and goes. people start leaving one by one, the lights dim slightly, and the familiar voice announces the last round.

when you glance up again, he’s still there behind the counter, collecting trays, listening to a coworker. for a moment, he looks your way, just long enough for you both to exchange a small smile. and that’s all it takes for the quiet warmth of the room to settle somewhere deep inside you - gentle, steady, enchanting.

when the last round ends, minho walks by, tray balanced in one hand and you feel your heartbeat stumble. you can’t help but look at him - a little shy, a little too careful with his smile, but there’s something easier in his eyes now. he looks at you first, then at the table, nodding politely.

“hey”, nayeon says, “we made a mess again, sorry about that”

minho laughs, setting the tray down to start clearing plates, “no worries. you guys are becoming regulars now?”

“apparently”, dahyun says, “it’s all her fault”, she tilts her head towards you with a teasing grin.

you roll your eyes but can’t stop the small smile forming, the warmth in your cheeks giving you away. minho’s smile flickers, just a little, like he’s trying not to let it grow too wide. he picks up a glass, careful not to look directly at you for too long, though you can feel the way his gaze keeps finding its way back.

then, as he reaches for the last plate, jihyo leans forward, her voice dropping to that mischievous tone you know too well. 

“hey, minho”, she says.

he looks up, “yeah?”

“i owe you an apology”, she says dramatically, pointing at him with her straw like it’s some kind of truth wand.

“oh no”, you mutter immediately, already sensing disaster, “jihyo, don’t-”

but she ignores you. 

“last week, after we left, i realised i only asked for your name”, she continues, grinning, “i should’ve asked for your number too, for her, obviously”, she gestures right at you.

your entire body goes still. 

“jihyo”, you whisper, mortified, reaching across the table, “stop talking right now”

she just laughs, “what? i’m just saying-”

you lean over and press your hand gently over her mouth. 

“no. absolutely not. we are not doing this again”, you say, trying not to meet minho’s eyes.

he’s smiling, though, and there’s something so gentle in it that it makes your stomach twist.

“it’s okay”, he says softly, clearly amused, “no harm done”

“i’m so sorry”, you tell him, not lowering your hand from jihyo’s mouth, “she thinks she’s being helpful, but she’s not”

jihyo giggles against your hand, “you’ll thank me later”, she murmurs, voice muffled.

“stop”, you hiss, nudging her shoulder, “come on, we should go before you embarrass me to death”

you stand, slipping your coat on, and turn back to minho with an apologetic half-smile. 

“sorry again. thank you for everything tonight”

“it’s fine, really”, he says, his tone is warm, like he means it. he moves his hand to his pocket, like he’s going to take something out but decides against it at the last second, and instead he just says, “have a good night”

you nod, flustered, and follow your friends towards the door. the air outside the main room feels cooler, easier to breathe. still, your heart hasn’t quite slowed. you can feel your pulse in your fingertips, the echo of his smile lingering like a touch that never happened.

as you walk, you tell the others you’ll meet them outside - that you just need to use the bathroom before leaving. jihyo waves you off dramatically. 

“don’t take too long. who knows what else you’ll miss”

“jihyo”, you warn, but she just giggles and links arms with nayeon and dahyun, dragging them towards the exit.

the hallway to the bathroom is quiet, dimly lit. you stand at the sink for a moment after washing your hands, taking a slow breath, trying to calm the flutter still sitting in your chest. the reflection that stares back at you looks like someone who’s just walked through a dream - pink cheeks, eyes too bright.

you close your eyes and shake your head.

“get it together”, you whisper.

when you step out, the sound of footsteps makes you look up. minho is there, standing a few steps away, his hands shoved into his pockets. his expression is a mix of nerves and something almost boyish - anticipation, maybe.

“hey”, he says quickly, before you can speak, “umm… sorry if this seems weird. i wasn’t- i mean, i was kind of waiting for you to come out, but not in a weird way, i swear”

you blink, surprised, “were you… waiting for me?”

“yeah”, he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “i wanted to… well, i wanted to give you something”

he takes a small folded slip of paper from his pocket and holds it out. his hand is steady, but there’s a faint tremor in his voice.

“i wanted to do this last week”, he says quietly, “but i got nervous. and then when i saw you come in tonight again, i thought… i can’t just let it go again, i’d regret it”

you take the paper from him, your fingers brushing his for half a second - just enough to make you both pause.

“what is it?”, you ask, though you think you already know.

“it’s my number”, he says, “and i promise you it’s not because your friend asked me! i… i’d really like to go out with you sometime. if you want. maybe something simple. coffee, a walk, whatever you’d like”

you look down at the folded paper, then back up at him. the hallway feels smaller now, softer, like the world has narrowed to just this space between you.

he’s watching you, his eyes searching yours, nervous but open. there’s no rush in his tone, no expectation, just quiet sincerity.

“you waited for me just to give me this?”, you say, your voice low.

he nods, “yeah. it felt right. like if i didn’t, i’d miss my chance again”

for a moment, you can’t think of what to say. then you smile - small, real. 

“thank you”, you whisper.

his breath leaves him in a small laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders, “so… is that a yes?”

you unfold the paper slowly, tracing the numbers with your thumb, “it’s a maybe that feels a lot like a yes”, you say.

his grin breaks free then, not wide, not careless, but a smile that warms everything around it, “i’ll take that”

“good”, you reply, and for a second, neither of you moves. 

there’s only the faint sound of music from the main room, the hum of lights, the closeness of something new beginning.

“i should let you go now”, he says finally, stepping back, “your friends are waiting”

“yeah”, you say, though you don’t move yet, “see you soon?”

“definitely”, he says, biting his lip trying to hide his smile, which he can’t.

you walk away with the paper folded neatly in your hand. outside, the air feels colder, sharper, like the night itself is still awake. the streetlights paint the pavement gold, the faint hum of the city moving around you - distant traffic, someone’s laughter echoing from a side street. jihyo spots you first, waving dramatically as you hurry towards them.

“finally!”, she says, linking her arm through yours the moment you’re close enough, “what took you so long, did you fall in?”

“no”, you say, trying - and failing - to keep your voice steady, “i… uh, ran into someone”

three sets of eyes turn towards you instantly. dahyun gasps. nayeon’s grin spreads slow and wide. jihyo narrows her eyes in mock suspicion.

“someone?”, nayeon repeats, “as in-”

“minho?”, dahyun finishes for her, already squealing before you even nod.

“oh my god, what happened?”, jihyo demands, tugging at your arm, “tell us right now”

“nothing, really”, you say too quickly, which, of course, makes them pounce harder.

“nothing?”, nayeon says, crossing her arms, her voice teasing, “you’re literally glowing. that’s not a nothing face. that’s a something face”

you can feel the smile breaking through no matter how hard you try to hide it. 

“he-”, you start, then stop, the words sticking in your throat because saying them out loud feels both thrilling and fragile, “he waited for me. outside the bathroom”

“waited for you?”, jihyo says, her tone lifting like she can’t decide if she wants to scream or squeal.

“yeah”, you say, your cheeks warming, “he said he wanted to give me something. and then he just… handed me his number. he said he wanted to ask me out. like, actually. a date”

there’s a beat of silence, just long enough for your heart to flutter, before all three of them erupt.

jihyo grabs both your hands, shaking them wildly, “i knew it! i knew it! see, we told you last week! he couldn’t stop staring at you!”

“you’re welcome, by the way”, nayeon says, smirking, “if jihyo hadn’t embarrassed you, maybe he wouldn’t have had the courage to ask now”

“i was helping”, jihyo insists, lifting her chin proudly, “this is basically my success story”

“your chaos story”, you mutter, laughing.

dahyun is bouncing on her toes, “so? are you gonna text him? call him? when’s the date?”

“i don’t know yet”, you say, biting your lip, “he just gave me his number two minutes ago and you’re already planning the wedding”

“you’re texting him tonight”, nayeon says firmly, “no hesitation. strike while it’s warm”

“that’s not the expression”, dahyun says between giggles, but nayeon waves her off.

“whatever, you know what i mean. he gave you his number, he’s clearly into you. it’s so cute!”

jihyo leans her head against your shoulder, her voice softer now, warm with affection. 

“i’m happy for you”, she says, “you’ve been smiling all night, you know that? it’s nice seeing you like this”

you look down at your shoes, a little shy, “yeah, well… it feels nice”, you admit quietly.

the group walks together, your laughter echoing off the empty street. the night feels lighter and the city hums gently - shop signs dimming, a cat darting across the road, the sound of leaves shifting in the breeze.

soon, your building comes into view, the familiar outline glowing faintly under the streetlights.

“text me when you all get home”, you say, slowing down.

“you sure you don’t want us to come up and dissect every detail again?”, nayeon asks, half serious.

“no, i think i need to process it alone before you three start planning our future and the names of our babies”, you laugh.

“fine”, jihyo says, wrapping you in a hug before the three of them leave to go home, “but text us. and call when he answers you!”

“i will”, you promise, hugging her back.

they start walking again, their voices fading into the distance, still talking and laughing, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly until it disappears around the corner.

you stand there for a moment, the quiet settling around you like a blanket. the building’s entrance light hums softly above the door.

you slip your hand into your coat pocket and pull out the small folded paper. the ink is slightly smudged at the corner, but his handwriting is neat, deliberate. seeing his name written there feels unreal, like holding a small secret that belongs only to you.

inside, your apartment is dark except for the soft glow from the street outside. you kick off your shoes, hang your coat, and lean against the door for a moment, exhaling a long breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding.

you walk into the kitchen, flick on the light, and set the note down on the counter. it looks so ordinary, just paper and ink, but your chest feels full, fluttery, as if something has shifted in a way you can’t quite name.

you open your phone, glance at the blank screen, type his name, and stop. you don’t put his number yet. you just stare at it, smiling to yourself.

your mind replays everything - the way he’d stood there, waiting for you, the nervous way he’d said, “i wanted to give you this”, his voice soft but certain. the way his eyes had met yours, steady, hopeful.

you press your fingertips lightly to your lips, as if trying to hold the moment there a little longer.

you make tea, moving slowly, still replaying his words in your head. the steam curls upward, catching the light, and you find yourself smiling again.

it’s strange, how someone you barely know can already feel familiar. how one look, one quiet act, can rearrange the rhythm of your whole night.

you curl up on the couch with your mug between your hands, the folded note lying on the table in front of you now. outside, the city murmurs softly, the glow of streetlights flickering through the curtains.

you read the number again, just to make sure it’s real.

and as you reach for your phone again, your fingers hesitating above the screen, your heart feels steady - excited, yes, but calm too. like something good is about to begin.

you smile again, quiet and sure this time, whispering to the empty room.

“minho”

the sound of his name on your lips feels perfect.

a/n: this is one of the softest thing i’ve ever written and i’m blaming the youth music video for this one. also!! i’ve recently become a twice fan so i had to name reader’s friends after some of the girls… deal with it my loves 🩷 (and look at my cute bingo divider i made that one my little baby!!)

if you want me to add you to a taglist for the next parts let me know in the comments!!

the library