𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀🍒

❦ 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻

★ 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 - 𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋

❦ 𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴

★ 𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 - 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

❦ 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴

★ 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋 - 𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍

❦ 𝘀𝗶𝗺 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻

★ 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍 - 𝖿𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀

❦ 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻

★ 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋𝗌 - 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗑𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗒

❦ 𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗼𝗼

★ 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝗌 - 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽

❦ 𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 𝟤𝟢𝟦𝟦 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔: 𝗃𝖺𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝖺 𝗏𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗂 𝖾𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖾, 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈, 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌.

( 𝗜𝗗𝗢𝗟 𝗔𝗨 ) 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗑 𝗈𝖼 | 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 + 𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍

𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦: jungwon, sunghoon, sunoo, jake, heeseung, ni-ki, jay

the first time park jongseong met choi eunchae, she handed him a flower sticker.

he blinked.

looked down at the tiny daisy smiling up at him.

then looked back at her.

"...what is this?"

"encouragement."

she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

around them, volunteers hurried across the community center carrying boxes of donated books, children's toys, and groceries.

the charity event hadn't even officially started.

jay had been there for exactly four minutes.

and somehow a stranger had already decided he needed encouragement.

"...thank you?"

"you're welcome."

she smiled.

bright.

effortless.

then hurried away before he could ask anything else.

jay stared at the sticker for another few seconds.

then carefully peeled the backing off.

he stuck it to the back of his volunteer name tag.

mostly because throwing it away immediately felt... rude.

"jay hyung."

jungwon wandered over carrying three cardboard boxes.

"why do you have a flower sticker?"

jay glanced down.

"...long story."

"you've been here for five minutes."

"...short story."

the event was organized to help local families before winter.

volunteers packed food boxes.

wrapped children's books.

sorted winter coats.

the atmosphere was busy, but warm.

the kind of place where strangers naturally started helping each other.

jay adjusted another stack of supplies.

someone reached over at the same time.

their hands bumped.

"sorry!"

the familiar voice made him look up.

it was her.

she laughed.

"twice already."

"...twice?"

"first the sticker."

she pointed toward his name tag.

"now this."

jay looked down.

the flower was still there.

"...i forgot about it."

her smile somehow grew.

"you kept it."

"...it would've been wasteful to throw it away."

she nodded very seriously.

"exactly."

then whispered,

"also, it looks cute."

before jay could respond, someone called her name.

"eunchae!"

"coming!"

she looked back at him.

"see you around."

and disappeared into the crowd.

jay watched her leave.

only for a second.

then went back to work.

"...hyung."

he closed his eyes.

sunoo.

"what?"

"you watched her walk away."

"i looked."

"you watched."

"there's a difference."

"not from where i was standing."

jay sighed.

"carry your boxes."

"yes, sir."

an hour later, jay saw her again.

this time she was sitting on the floor surrounded by children.

one little boy was crying quietly.

his shoelace had snapped.

before any of the adults could react, eunchae was already kneeling beside him.

"that's a pretty serious problem."

the little boy nodded dramatically.

"my shoe is broken."

"hmm..."

she tapped her chin.

"good thing i'm an expert."

jay watched as she pulled a spare pair of shoelaces from her oversized tote bag.

"...you carry shoelaces?"

the volunteer beside him asked.

"you'd be surprised what kindergarten teachers carry."

another volunteer laughed.

"last week she had dinosaur bandages."

jay looked over again.

eunchae had somehow turned replacing a shoelace into a magic trick.

the little boy was laughing now.

completely forgetting he'd been crying only moments earlier.

when she finished tying the shoe, she gently tapped the boy's nose.

"all fixed."

the little boy hugged her without warning.

she hugged him back just as naturally.

something warm settled quietly in jay's chest.

"jongseong?"

he blinked.

the coordinator handed him another box.

"could you take these to room three?"

"of course."

he picked up the box.

walked toward room three.

opened the door.

eunchae looked up from arranging books.

"oh!"

she smiled.

"flower sticker."

"...my name is jay."

"i know."

she giggled.

"but flower sticker is funnier."

jay had absolutely no response to that.

she stood up.

walked over.

and effortlessly took half the books from his box.

"thank you."

"...i'm helping."

"i know."

they worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

or at least,

comfortable for jay.

apparently not for eunchae.

"do you volunteer often?"

"when i can."

"that's nice."

"i teach kindergarten nearby."

jay looked over.

"really?"

she nodded proudly.

"my students made all the thank-you cards."

she pointed toward a colorful display near the wall.

every card was covered in uneven handwriting.

crooked hearts.

stick figures.

glitter.

jay walked closer.

one card read:

thank you for helping people!!

you are cool!!

another simply said:

i like turtles.

"...this one seems unrelated."

eunchae laughed.

"his heart was in the right place."

without realizing it;

jay smiled too.

she noticed immediately.

"...there it is."

he looked confused.

"what?"

"you smiled."

"...did i?"

"mhm."

she folded another blanket.

"you should do it more often."

jay looked down at the stack of books in front of him.

trying very hard to ignore the strange warmth creeping into his ears.

"...i smile."

"not much."

"...fair."

later that afternoon, the volunteers finally took a break.

paper cups of coffee were passed around.

people sat wherever they could find space.

jay settled onto a bench outside the community center.

finally enjoying five minutes of quiet.

or so he thought.

"found you."

he looked up.

eunchae stood there holding two paper bags from the bakery across the street.

"i brought snacks."

"...for me?"

"well..."

she tilted her head.

"i accidentally bought too many."

jay glanced inside the bag.

there were exactly two madeleines.

two drinks.

two napkins.

"...accidentally?"

"...maybe intentionally."

he couldn't help it.

he laughed.

softly.

the kind of laugh that escaped before he could stop it.

eunchae beamed.

like she'd accomplished something important.

"there you are."

"...what?"

"your second smile today."

jay shook his head.

"are you keeping count?"

"of course."

she sat beside him.

"good things should be counted."

for some reason,

he didn't think that was a strange thing to say.

not when it came from her.

they ate in companionable silence.

every now and then, eunchae pointed something out.

a bird hopping across the sidewalk.

a cloud shaped like a rabbit.

a little girl proudly showing her father a drawing she'd made.

jay found himself looking wherever she pointed.

seeing things he normally would've walked straight past.

"...you notice everything."

he said quietly.

eunchae smiled into her cup of tea.

"someone should."

jay looked at her for a moment.

longer than he probably should have.

then, before he could stop himself,

he wondered what other little things she'd notice.

and why,

after only one afternoon,

he suddenly hoped he'd get the chance to find out.

the charity event lasted three days.

jay saw her on all three.

which, according to jake, was "either a coincidence or fate."

jay chose not to entertain either possibility.

on the second morning, he arrived twenty minutes early.

as usual.

the community center was still quiet.

only a handful of volunteers had arrived.

he set down a box of supplies.

looked around.

and found himself wondering—

where was eunchae?

"...you're looking for someone."

jay nearly dropped the clipboard in his hands.

sunghoon stood beside him with a completely neutral expression.

"i'm looking for the coordinator."

"right."

"i am."

"if you say so."

before jay could defend himself, the front doors opened.

"good morning!"

there she was.

wrapped in a cream-colored cardigan despite the chilly weather.

a tote bag hanging from one shoulder.

a paper cup balanced carefully in one hand.

and somehow smiling despite it being barely eight in the morning.

she waved the second she noticed him.

"flower sticker!"

jay sighed.

"...good morning."

she walked over.

"i brought cookies."

"you always bring food."

"people work better when they're fed."

"...that's actually true."

"i know."

she looked entirely too pleased with herself.

she opened the container.

inside were neatly baked butter cookies shaped like tiny stars.

"i made these last night."

jay picked one up.

took a bite.

paused.

"well?"

"...they're really good."

her shoulders relaxed immediately.

like she'd genuinely been worried he wouldn't like them.

"thank goodness."

"you thought i'd lie?"

"no."

she smiled softly.

"you don't seem like someone who lies."

jay didn't know why that sentence stayed with him for the rest of the day.

but it did.

around lunchtime, volunteers began delivering food boxes to nearby families.

jay and eunchae ended up paired together.

"you have a driver's license, right?"

the coordinator asked.

jay nodded.

"perfect."

she turned toward eunchae.

"can you go with him?"

"of course!"

the drive was surprisingly quiet.

not awkward.

just...

comfortable.

eunchae looked out the window.

"hmm."

"what?"

"i've decided something."

"...that's concerning."

she laughed.

"you're funnier than people think."

jay almost missed the next turn.

"...i'm funny?"

"mhm."

"nobody has ever said that to me."

"well, i'm saying it."

"...thank you?"

"you're welcome."

another few minutes passed.

then,

"can i ask you something?"

jay nodded.

"why does everyone think you're intimidating?"

he blinked.

"people think that?"

she looked at him.

then burst into laughter.

"you genuinely don't know?"

"...no."

"jay."

"what?"

"when you're concentrating, you look like you're about to fire someone."

"...i don't even have employees."

"exactly."

she laughed so hard she had to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes.

jay couldn't stop the smile that appeared.

"...there's number three."

he looked over.

"what?"

"smile."

"...you're still counting?"

"obviously."

the deliveries took most of the afternoon.

between stops, they talked.

really talked.

about childhood.

favorite foods.

movies.

travel.

music.

jay learned that eunchae had wanted to become a teacher ever since she was ten years old.

because one teacher had made school feel like a safe place.

"i wanted to do that for someone else."

she admitted quietly.

jay glanced at her.

"you probably already have."

she smiled.

small this time.

different from her usual bright one.

"i hope so."

when they finished the last delivery, the sun had already started setting.

the coordinator called.

"good work!"

"thanks."

eunchae answered.

"you two can head home after dropping the van back."

"got it."

they parked outside the community center.

most volunteers had already left.

the building was almost empty.

as they walked toward the entrance, a little voice called out.

"teacher!"

both of them turned.

a little girl from earlier came running over.

pink backpack bouncing behind her.

"hi, soyeon."

eunchae crouched down until they were eye level.

"i drew you something."

the girl proudly held out a piece of folded paper.

eunchae accepted it with both hands.

like she'd just been handed something priceless.

"can i look?"

the little girl nodded enthusiastically.

inside was a drawing.

stick figures.

a huge yellow sun.

flowers.

and three smiling people holding hands.

one figure wore a dress.

one wore a blue sweater.

the third had dark hair and was noticeably taller.

eunchae smiled.

"is this me?"

"yes!"

"and who's this?"

she pointed to the taller figure.

"flower sticker uncle."

silence.

jay blinked.

"...flower sticker uncle?"

the little girl nodded very confidently.

"teacher smiles more when he's here."

eunchae froze.

jay froze.

the little girl looked between them.

completely unaware of the emotional damage she'd just caused.

"mom says smiling means people are happy."

"bye!"

she waved.

then ran off before either of them could respond.

for a long moment

neither of them spoke.

eunchae carefully folded the drawing.

slipped it into her tote bag.

"...kids say whatever they're thinking."

she said quietly.

jay nodded.

"...i know."

another pause.

"...have i really been smiling more?"

she looked up at him.

his expression softer than she'd ever seen before.

"yeah."

"..."

"you have."

jay didn't know what to say.

because she was right.

he had been smiling more.

laughing more.

looking forward to mornings more.

and somehow,

all of those changes had started around the same time one overly friendly kindergarten teacher had handed him a flower sticker.

as they reached the parking lot, eunchae stopped walking.

"wait."

jay turned.

she reached into her tote bag.

searched for a moment.

then held something out.

another sticker.

this one was a tiny smiling sunflower.

"...encouragement?"

jay guessed.

she grinned.

"just because."

he accepted it carefully.

looked down at the sunflower.

then back at her.

"thank you."

"you'll keep this one too?"

he nodded.

without hesitation.

"yeah."

her smile grew impossibly brighter.

for reasons he couldn't quite explain,

that answer felt important.

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 𝟣𝟢𝟧𝟦 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔: 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗏𝖺𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗌𝗈𝖽𝖾. 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖿𝖿, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖤𝖭𝖧𝖸𝖯𝖤𝖭 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

( 𝗜𝗗𝗢𝗟 𝗔𝗨 ) 𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝗋𝗂𝗄𝗂 𝗑 𝗈𝖼 | 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 + 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅 𝗑 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅

𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦: jungwon, sunghoon, sunoo, jake, heeseung, ni-ki, jay

the first time kang minseo argued with nishimura riki, she accidentally called him annoying on live television.

in her defense,

he had started it.

the variety show's newest concept paired idols with young creatives for a week-long team challenge.

writers.

designers.

editors.

photographers.

and apparently one university film student who had somehow convinced herself this would look good on her résumé.

that student was kang minseo.

everything had been going surprisingly well.

until the teams were announced.

"team three," the pd called.

"nishimura riki."

riki raised a hand.

"and kang minseo."

minseo smiled politely.

riki smiled politely.

they shook hands.

the cameras zoomed in.

everything looked perfectly pleasant.

for exactly twelve seconds.

their first challenge was simple.

build a short promotional video.

they had three hours.

one camera.

and completely opposite ideas.

"we should film outside."

riki shook his head.

"too bright."

"it's literally sunny."

"exactly."

"..."

"..."

"that's your argument?"

"yes."

minseo crossed her arms.

"well, it's a bad one."

"well, your idea is worse."

"you haven't even heard it."

"i don't need to."

the cameraman quietly zoomed in.

because this was already more entertaining than production had expected.

they were still arguing an hour later.

"you're impossible."

"you're stubborn."

"you're controlling."

"you're loud."

"you're dramatic."

"you're slow."

minseo stopped walking.

"...slow?"

riki blinked.

"...i panicked."

she laughed.

only for a second.

then immediately covered it with a cough.

"did you just laugh?"

"no."

"you definitely did."

"keep walking."

they somehow finished the challenge.

their video won first place.

they both thought the other had good ideas, bur neither of them wanted to admit it.

backstage, jake watched them leave.

then looked at sunoo.

"they're going to fall in love."

sunoo nodded.

"absolutely."

two weeks later, minseo was invited back.

not because production needed her.

because viewers loved the arguments.

comments flooded every episode.

"they fight like an old married couple"

"why are they always together"

"they're definitely pretending to hate each other"

"someone tell them to kiss already"

minseo refused to read the comments.

riki absolutely read every single one.

"look."

he held his phone out.

"they think we're dating."

minseo didn't even glance over.

"that's because they're weird."

"they made an edit."

"they need hobbies."

"it has two million views."

"..."

"...people have far too much free time."

the next challenge involved cooking.

which immediately became everyone's problem.

"don't cut it like that."

"i know how to cut vegetables."

"clearly you don't."

"i literally cook."

"then why are you holding the knife backwards?"

"..."

"..."

"...mind your business."

he reached over.

"give me the knife."

"no."

"you're going to lose a finger."

"i'm not."

"you almost did."

"that was one time."

"that was thirty seconds ago."

the editor nearly cried.

there was simply too much good footage.

by the end of filming, nobody called them by their names anymore.

it was always,

"where's riki?"

"with minseo."

"where's minseo?"

"probably arguing with riki."

they denied everything.

constantly.

loudly.

"we're not friends."

"absolutely not."

"i only talk to him because i have to."

"she annoys me."

"he annoys me more."

everyone nodded.

completely unconvinced.

one afternoon, filming wrapped early.

for the first time in weeks.

staff began packing up.

people slowly left the studio.

minseo looked around.

"...it's quiet."

"finally."

riki stretched his arms above his head.

"no cameras."

"no producers."

"no one telling us to smile."

they stood there for a moment.

neither moving.

then riki frowned.

"you're going the wrong way."

"what?"

"the subway is this way."

minseo blinked.

"how do you know how i go home?"

silence.

riki looked away.

far too quickly.

"...you always go that direction."

"you noticed?"

"..."

"..."

"...i notice things."

before she could answer,

a producer walked past.

looked at the two of them standing together.

and sighed dramatically.

"seriously."

they both turned.

"what?"

the producer smiled.

"you know filming ended twenty minutes ago, right?"

"...yes?"

"then why are you two still together?"

minseo looked at riki.

riki looked at minseo.

neither of them had an answer.

because the producer was right.

there weren't any cameras anymore.

there wasn't a challenge.

there wasn't a reason to still be standing there.

and yet,

neither of them had been in a hurry to leave.

"see?"

the producer laughed.

"that's exactly what i mean."

he walked away before either of them could respond.

riki rubbed the back of his neck.

"...people are weird."

minseo nodded.

"...really weird."

another pause.

"are you hungry?"

the question slipped out before she could think.

riki looked surprised.

"i thought you hated me."

"i do."

"then why are you asking?"

she shrugged.

"i can hate you over dinner."

he stared at her.

then laughed.

"fine."

he adjusted his backpack.

"but you're paying."

"absolutely not."

they continued arguing all the way to the restaurant.

neither of them noticed they were walking side by side.

everyone else did.

they ended up at a tiny ramyeon place two streets away from the studio.

not because either of them suggested it.

because they'd both stopped walking at the exact same restaurant.

looked at the sign.

looked at each other.

and silently agreed.

"this isn't a date."

minseo said it before they even sat down.

riki looked up from the menu.

"...i wasn't going to call it one."

"good."

"because i value my life."

"smart."

the owner smiled as they walked in.

"table for two?"

before either of them could answer, she continued.

"you two are very cute together."

minseo blinked.

riki blinked.

"we're not"

"absolutely not"

they spoke at exactly the same time.

the owner laughed.

"that's what they all say."

riki buried his face in the menu.

"this keeps happening."

minseo sighed.

"it's becoming a problem."

they ordered.

well.

they tried to.

"i'll have the spicy ramyeon."

the waiter nodded.

"and for your boyfriend?"

riki immediately looked up.

"i'm not-"

"he'll have the soy sauce one."

minseo smiled politely.

"..."

"..."

riki stared.

"you did that on purpose."

"did what?"

"you let him think we're dating."

"correcting him would've taken longer."

"you're unbelievable."

"thank you."

when the food arrived, neither spoke for a minute.

mostly because they were hungry.

riki glanced across the table.

"you actually eat really slowly."

minseo looked offended.

"i'm enjoying my meal."

"you're interviewing it."

"food deserves respect."

"it's noodles."

"exactly."

he laughed.

quietly this time.

minseo noticed.

she'd seen him laugh plenty of times while filming.

big laughs.

camera laughs.

the kind editors loved.

this one was different.

smaller.

warmer.

it made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

she looked away first.

"...what?"

riki asked.

"nothing."

"you were staring."

"i wasn't."

"you were."

"prove it."

"emotionally, i can."

"..."

"..."

"...i hate that you've started saying that."

"it's a good argument."

they finished eating.

when the bill arrived, both reached for it.

"i'll pay."

riki said it casually.

"absolutely not."

"you invited me."

"you accepted."

"you're a student."

"you're younger than me."

"...that's unrelated."

"it's related now."

the cashier watched the argument with obvious amusement.

finally, she sighed.

"you know what?"

they both looked over.

"i'll split it."

"..."

"..."

"i've never seen a couple argue over who gets to pay."

they froze.

again.

the cashier smiled.

"you two are adorable."

minseo opened her mouth.

closed it.

looked at riki.

"...just split it."

riki nodded immediately.

"please."

outside, the rain had started again.

soft this time.

barely more than a drizzle.

minseo stopped under the restaurant awning.

"...great."

"you forgot your umbrella?"

"..."

"...don't say it."

riki tried.

he genuinely tried not to smile.

he failed.

"that's ironic."

"don't."

"after everything you've put me through..."

"riki."

"...you need an umbrella."

she groaned.

"you're never letting this go."

"never."

he reached into his backpack.

pulled out a folded black umbrella.

opened it.

then held it toward her.

"come on."

minseo looked at him.

then at the umbrella.

"...you're trusting me?"

"i wrote my name on this one too."

she laughed.

the sound came out before she could stop it.

bright.

genuine.

riki looked strangely pleased with himself.

"there it is."

"what?"

"you laughed."

"..."

"...you're annoying."

"i know."

they stepped under the umbrella together.

it was immediately obvious the umbrella wasn't quite big enough.

their shoulders bumped.

"move."

"you move."

"you're hogging the umbrella."

"you're taller."

"exactly."

"that's not how umbrellas work."

"it should be."

they continued bickering all the way to the subway station.

when they finally reached the entrance, minseo stepped back.

"well."

"well."

another pause.

"thanks for dinner."

"you paid for half."

"still."

riki nodded.

"thanks for... not hating me over dinner."

she smiled.

small.

almost impossible to notice.

"anytime."

the subway arrived.

the doors opened.

minseo stepped inside.

then turned around.

"goodnight, riki."

it was the first time she'd ever called him by his name.

not nishimura.

not hey.

not drama queen.

riki.

the doors closed before she saw the smile that spread across his face.

he stood on the platform long after the train disappeared.

his phone buzzed.

sunoo

did you two finally admit you're dating?

riki immediately typed back.

riki

we're not dating.

three dots appeared.

sunoo

then why have you been at dinner with her for two hours?

riki stared at the message.

then slowly looked back at the empty subway tracks.

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟪 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔: 𝗌𝗂𝗑 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝗈, 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈. 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖿𝖿 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇’𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗌, 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒.

( 𝗜𝗗𝗢𝗟 𝗔𝗨 ) 𝗅𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗑 𝗈𝖼 | 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 + 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦: jungwon, sunghoon, sunoo, jake, heeseung, ni-ki, jay

lee heeseung did not believe in love at first sight.

he believed in attraction.

he believed in crushes.

he believed in finding someone interesting and slowly getting to know them.

love at first sight felt dramatic.

unrealistic.

the kind of thing that happened in movies where people stared at each other across crowded rooms while orchestral music played in the background.

real life wasn't like that.

or at least, that was what he thought.

until the airport.

heeseung had been exhausted.

the kind of exhausted that settled into your bones.

the kind that made every sound too loud and every light too bright.

their flight had been delayed.

security had taken forever.

his phone battery was nearly dead.

all he wanted was coffee and a nap.

instead, he found himself sitting near a gate waiting for another announcement.

around him, people rushed in every direction.

families.

business travelers.

students.

tourists.

everyone moving.

everyone busy.

heeseung barely looked up from his phone.

until he heard laughter.

soft laughter.

not loud.

not attention-seeking.

just warm.

without meaning to, he glanced over.

and saw her.

she was sitting beside an elderly woman.

the woman looked frustrated.

her phone charger tangled around her bag.

something clearly wasn't working.

the girl beside her was helping.

patiently.

carefully.

smiling the entire time.

heeseung watched as she untangled the cord.

showed the woman where to plug it in.

then clapped quietly when the battery icon appeared.

the woman immediately looked relieved.

the girl looked even happier.

like helping had somehow improved her own day too.

that should have been it.

a random moment.

a random stranger.

nothing important.

except heeseung kept looking back.

not staring.

just...

checking.

every few minutes.

she eventually stood.

adjusted the tote bag hanging from her shoulder.

bowed politely to the woman.

then walked away.

heeseung watched her disappear into the crowd.

and for some reason,

something in his chest felt strangely empty afterward.

"hyung."

heeseung blinked.

jake was staring at him.

"what?"

"you've been looking in the same direction for ten minutes."

"...have i?"

"yes."

sunghoon glanced up from his phone.

"that's concerning."

heeseung immediately looked away.

"i wasn't looking at anything."

"right."

"i wasn't."

"okay."

"stop saying okay like that."

the weird part started afterward.

because she didn't leave his mind.

at all.

it wasn't constant.

just random.

unexpected.

a coffee shop would remind him of her.

someone helping a stranger would remind him of her.

a tote bag.

a certain laugh.

a certain smile.

every now and then she'd simply appear in his thoughts.

like a bookmark he couldn't remove.

three weeks later, he still remembered exactly what she looked like.

which was absurd.

he knew that.

"you're thinking about airport girl again."

heeseung nearly dropped his drink.

sunoo looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"what airport girl?"

"the airport girl."

"there is no airport girl."

sunoo nodded slowly.

"interesting."

"what?"

"because i never said airport."

silence.

absolute silence.

from across the room, ni-ki screamed.

"THERE'S AN AIRPORT GIRL?"

heeseung immediately regretted everything.

six months later, he still hadn't seen her again.

which should have made things easier.

instead, it somehow made things worse.

because now she existed in that dangerous category of person:

someone he could never actually know.

someone whose story had never continued.

someone who remained unfinished.

then one tuesday morning, his life became significantly more complicated.

the filming location was already busy when enhypen arrived.

staff members moved equipment.

producers shouted instructions.

cameras rolled across the floor.

the usual chaos.

heeseung barely paid attention.

until he heard a voice.

"excuse me, sorry."

something about it felt familiar.

not familiar enough.

just enough to make him look up.

and immediately forget how to breathe.

there she was.

standing beside a stack of equipment.

holding a clipboard.

dark hair pulled back.

oversized sweater sleeves covering part of her hands.

the same girl.

the airport girl.

the girl who had somehow occupied six months of his brain without permission.

heeseung froze.

completely.

utterly.

hopelessly.

frozen.

"hyung?"

jake looked concerned.

"why do you look like that?"

heeseung pointed.

slowly.

wordlessly.

jake followed his gaze.

looked at the girl.

looked back at him.

looked at the girl again.

then his eyes widened.

dramatically.

dangerously.

"OH."

heeseung wanted to disappear.

immediately.

"that's airport girl."

"be quiet."

"that's actually airport girl."

"jake."

"THAT'S HER."

"jake."

"YOU FOUND HER."

unfortunately, sunoo heard.

which meant everyone heard.

which meant within thirty seconds, all six members knew.

"that's insane."

"it's actually her?"

"six months?"

"you've liked her for six months?"

"you don't even know her name."

heeseung covered his face.

because they were all correct.

and somehow that made everything worse.

meanwhile, across the room, yoo jiwon was completely unaware she had accidentally become the main character of someone else's emotional crisis.

"jiwon?"

she looked up.

a producer handed her another clipboard.

"can you give this to the artists?"

"of course."

she smiled.

took the paperwork.

and started walking.

toward them.

heeseung's soul immediately left his body.

"good luck, hyung."

"don't embarrass yourself."

"actually, please do."

"it'll be funny."

heeseung hated all of them.

jiwon stopped in front of the group.

completely calm.

completely normal.

completely unaware she was about to alter the trajectory of his entire day.

"hello," she said politely.

and smiled.

the same smile.

the exact same smile.

heeseung was finished.

completely finished.

"these are today's filming schedules."

she handed over the papers.

one by one.

professional.

efficient.

kind.

then she reached him.

"here you go."

their fingers brushed briefly.

completely by accident.

nothing dramatic.

nothing important.

just a second.

less than a second.

jiwon smiled.

"nice to meet you."

and somehow that was worse.

because for her,

it was the first meeting.

for him,

it felt like finally finding the ending to a story he'd been carrying around for six months.

"nice to meet you too," he managed.

somehow.

barely.

jiwon nodded politely.

then walked away.

just like she had in the airport.

leaving him staring after her.

again.

except this time,

she wasn't disappearing forever.

for the rest of the day, heeseung learned two things.

the first was that yoo jiwon was real.

the second was that reality was not helping his situation.

at all.

she was everywhere.

not intentionally.

she was just doing her job.

walking between sets.

checking schedules.

helping staff members.

carrying clipboards.

appearing at exactly the wrong moments for his heart.

the problem was that now he knew her name.

and somehow that made everything worse.

because "airport girl" had been a concept.

a memory.

a story.

but yoo jiwon?

yoo jiwon existed.

she laughed.

she talked.

she moved through the world.

and every time he saw her, she became a little more real.

"hyung."

heeseung immediately knew he wasn't going to like whatever came next.

sunoo was smiling.

that alone was a warning sign.

"what?"

"you've been watching her."

"i have not."

"you absolutely have."

"i'm literally sitting down."

"and somehow you're still watching her."

heeseung hated that this was difficult to argue against.

across the room, jiwon was helping move equipment.

nothing exciting.

nothing dramatic.

just work.

heeseung looked away.

immediately.

sunoo nodded.

"interesting."

"stop saying that."

"you're suffering."

"i'm not."

"you're suffering."

heeseung was suffering.

the worst part was that jiwon seemed completely comfortable around everyone.

staff loved her.

other assistants loved her.

producers loved her.

within hours he understood why.

she remembered names.

all of them.

at one point, a camera operator accidentally dropped something.

before anyone else could react, jiwon was already helping him pick everything up.

not because she had to.

not because anyone asked.

she simply did.

heeseung watched from across the set.

"oh no."

jake appeared beside him.

heeseung nearly jumped.

"what?"

"you have the face again."

"what face?"

"the face where you realize she's actually as nice as you imagined."

silence.

"...go away."

jake laughed so hard he almost walked into a light stand.

the next week was worse.

because now they worked together regularly.

not directly.

just enough.

enough for small conversations.

"good morning."

"good morning."

"thank you."

"of course."

"how was filming?"

"good."

"that's great."

tiny conversations.

harmless conversations.

the kind normal people wouldn't spend hours thinking about afterward.

heeseung spent hours thinking about them afterward.

one afternoon, filming ran late.

everyone was tired.

everyone was hungry.

everyone wanted to go home.

jiwon walked into the waiting area carrying a tray of coffees.

"for staff," she announced.

immediately people started thanking her.

she handed drinks out one by one.

checking names.

making sure everyone got the right order.

heeseung watched her move around the room.

then immediately scolded himself.

then continued watching.

she stopped in front of him.

"americano?"

he blinked.

"for me?"

jiwon looked confused.

"yes?"

"you remembered my order?"

the second the words left his mouth, he realized how ridiculous they sounded.

jiwon blinked.

"you order the same thing every day."

"...right."

"was i supposed to forget?"

heeseung immediately looked down at the coffee.

because no.

she wasn't supposed to forget.

but he was beginning to realize that when chaewon remembered things, it affected him far more than it should.

"thank you."

her smile appeared.

small.

warm.

"you're welcome."

then she moved on.

heeseung stared at the coffee for approximately thirty seconds.

sunghoon looked over.

"what happened?"

heeseung pointed at the cup.

"...she remembered my order."

sunghoon stared.

then stared some more.

then slowly looked toward the ceiling.

"oh, you're gone."

"what?"

"you're actually gone."

heeseung didn't appreciate how accurate that statement was.

two weeks later, something terrible happened.

he made her laugh.

a real laugh.

not a polite one.

not a staff-member laugh.

not a "that was mildly amusing" laugh.

an actual laugh.

it happened completely by accident.

they were waiting for filming to resume.

everyone was scattered around the set.

jiwon was organizing paperwork.

heeseung was pretending to read something on his phone.

the paperwork slipped.

pages immediately exploded across the floor.

"oh no."

jiwon dropped to her knees.

heeseung moved automatically.

"i'll help."

"thank you."

for a few moments they gathered papers together.

then he noticed one page.

there was a doodle in the corner.

a very badly drawn cat.

he picked it up.

looked at it.

looked at her.

looked back at it.

"what is this?"

jiwon immediately froze.

"...nothing."

"this cat looks deeply concerned."

"he's trying his best."

"i don't think he is."

"that's rude."

heeseung held up the paper.

"look at his face."

jiwon finally looked.

and laughed.

a real one.

bright.

unexpected.

completely unfiltered.

heeseung's brain stopped functioning.

immediately.

because somehow

somehow, 

he had spent six months remembering her smile.

and had never once imagined her laugh correctly.

it was better.

significantly better.

"you're laughing at your own drawing."

"because you're bullying him."

"he deserves it."

"he's sensitive."

"he's paper."

that made her laugh again.

heeseung was finished.

completely.

irreversibly.

finished.

later that night, enhypen was eating dinner together.

heeseung was smiling at absolutely nothing.

sunoo noticed first.

which was unfortunate.

"he's smiling."

everyone looked up.

heeseung nearly choked.

"what?"

sunoo pointed.

"she laughed at something he said."

the table exploded.

"YOU MADE HER LAUGH?"

"NO WAY."

"HE'S NEVER RECOVERING."

"IT'S OVER FOR HIM."

"GUYS."

nobody listened.

because unfortunately,

they were right.

heeseung hadn't recovered.

and he was beginning to suspect he didn't want to.

especially not when every day he learned something new about her.

she liked mystery novels.

she always bought the same strawberry yogurt drink.

she hummed quietly while working.

she carried snacks in her bag for other people.

she forgot to bring snacks for herself.

and every time he discovered another small detail, the airport memory felt less important.

because six months ago, he had fallen for a moment.

now,

he was slowly falling for a person.

and somehow,

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 𝟣𝟪𝟨𝟩 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔: 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗃𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗄𝖾-𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗏𝖺𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗐𝗄𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾-𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗌, 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅.

( 𝗜𝗗𝗢𝗟 𝗔𝗨 ) 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝗈𝖼 | 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 + 𝖿𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀

𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦: jungwon, sunghoon, sunoo, jake, heeseung, ni-ki, jay

the first time han seoyeon met jake sim, she accidentally rejected him on national television.

in her defense, she didn't know she was supposed to flirt.

the production staff had explained the concept of the variety show three separate times.

fake dating.

lighthearted.

cute.

fun.

the kind of show where audiences picked favorite couples and edited heart effects into every interaction.

seoyeon understood all of that.

what nobody had explained was that she would be standing under studio lights at nine in the morning while jake sim smiled at her like a human golden retriever.

it was distracting.

not because he was handsome.

he was.

painfully.

but because he looked genuinely excited to be there.

which seemed suspicious.

"let's start with introductions," the pd said.

the cameras rolled.

jake turned toward her immediately.

"i'm jake."

"i know."

the entire studio went quiet.

jake blinked.

the pd blinked.

a camera operator made a choking sound.

seoyeon realized her mistake.

"...because everyone knows who you are," she added.

"right."

"you're famous."

"that would explain it."

a laugh escaped him.

the tension broke instantly.

somewhere behind the cameras, a producer sighed in relief.

later, while staff reset equipment, seoyeon found herself sitting alone with an iced coffee.

well.

alone for approximately twelve seconds.

then jake appeared.

"can i sit here?"

she glanced around the completely empty seating area.

"were you planning to sit on the floor if i said no?"

he looked thoughtful.

"maybe."

"that's concerning."

"i'm very adaptable."

he sat down anyway.

for a moment, neither spoke.

then jake pointed at her drink.

"that's your second coffee today."

seoyeon stared.

"how do you know that?"

he immediately looked guilty.

"i saw you carrying one earlier."

"you remembered that?"

"i remember lots of things."

the answer came naturally.

too naturally.

like he hadn't realized how it sounded.

seoyeon took a sip of coffee.

"that's either impressive or terrifying."

"i get both a lot."

filming continued.

and unfortunately, jake turned out to be exactly as friendly as everyone claimed.

worse, actually.

because seoyeon had assumed idol-friendly.

camera-friendly.

professional-friendly.

she hadn't expected real-friendly.

the kind that carried extra drinks because he wasn't sure if she'd already had lunch.

the kind that noticed when she looked cold and offered his jacket before she could refuse.

the kind that remembered she hated tomatoes after hearing it once.

it was irritating.

mostly because she kept noticing it.

by the third episode, viewers were obsessed.

the comments sections were full of things like:

they're so natural together

jake looks at her differently

wait why are they actually cute

seoyeon refused to read them.

jake absolutely read them.

because of course he did.

"someone made a compilation of us."

"why?"

"apparently i look at you a lot."

seoyeon glanced up from her book.

"do you?"

jake opened his mouth.

then closed it.

then looked suspiciously interested in the ceiling.

"...maybe."

the problem started around episode five.

before that, everything had been simple.

filming days.

scheduled interactions.

planned dates.

cameras.

staff.

scripts.

then one evening her phone buzzed.

jake

i found the coffee place you were talking about

seoyeon stared at the message.

a second one arrived.

jake

the croissants are actually worth the hype

she looked at the time.

11:47 p.m.

seoyeon

aren't you supposed to be sleeping

the typing bubble appeared instantly.

jake

aren't you

seoyeon

i asked first

jake

i don't think that's how conversations work

after that, texting became normal.

dangerously normal.

sometimes it was memes.

sometimes it was complaints about schedules.

sometimes it was photos.

a sunset.

a dog.

a strangely shaped cloud.

one memorable picture of a vending machine that had somehow trapped three separate drinks.

jake

i think it's evolving

seoyeon

leave before it becomes self aware

jake

good advice

he texted like...

jake.

which became a problem.

because the more she got to know him, the harder it became to separate the show from reality.

he wasn't performing most of the time.

at least not with her.

she started noticing little things.

the way he always checked if everyone had eaten.

the way he listened carefully when people talked.

the way he smiled differently when he forgot cameras existed.

small things.

dangerous things.

"you're staring."

seoyeon blinked.

jake was looking at her from across the restaurant table.

they were filming again.

camera crews surrounding them.

microphones hidden everywhere.

"i wasn't."

"you were."

"prove it."

"you looked away too fast."

"that's not proof."

"it's emotionally proof."

she sighed.

jake grinned.

the director nearly cried from happiness behind the monitor.

after filming wrapped, staff began packing equipment away.

the restaurant slowly emptied.

for once, neither of them stood up immediately.

jake was scrolling through something on his phone.

seoyeon was pretending not to watch him.

"can i ask something?"

she looked up.

"depends."

"have you ever forgotten this was fake?"

the question landed softly.

dangerously.

jake's thumb stopped moving.

for the first time all day, he didn't have an immediate answer.

the restaurant suddenly felt quieter.

even though people were still moving around them.

he looked at her.

really looked at her.

and something shifted.

small.

almost invisible.

but there.

because the truth was,

he had forgotten.

more than once.

when she'd laughed at something stupid he said.

when she'd fallen asleep in the van after filming.

when she'd remembered his favorite drink without asking.

when she'd texted him good luck before a performance.

when she'd become the first person he wanted to tell things to.

he'd forgotten.

a lot.

jake looked down briefly.

then smiled.

small this time.

not camera-ready.

not variety-show perfect.

just real.

"yeah," he admitted quietly.

and for some reason,

seoyeon's heart skipped.

because she wasn't sure she'd wanted him to answer honestly.

this was a lie.

a very obvious lie.

the kind of lie that became apparent every time her phone buzzed and she immediately looked at it.

the kind of lie that made her notice every café they had visited during filming.

the kind of lie that had somehow resulted in her saving photos jake had sent months ago.

normal people didn't do that.

probably.

the show was between seasons.

jake was busy.

she was busy.

life continued.

which should have made things easier.

instead, it made everything strangely quiet.

because somehow, somewhere between scripted dates and late-night texts, jake had become part of her routine.

and now there was a gap where that routine used to be.

which was unfortunate.

because the universe apparently enjoyed embarrassing her.

"that's a concerning expression."

seoyeon froze.

she knew that voice.

immediately.

without turning around.

which was its own problem.

slowly, she looked over her shoulder.

jake stood a few feet away.

wearing a hoodie.

baseball cap.

glasses.

trying very hard to look anonymous.

he was failing.

mostly because he was smiling.

then seoyeon said:

"i thought you were in japan."

jake blinked.

"how do you know i was in japan?"

silence.

absolute silence.

seoyeon immediately regretted everything.

"the internet," she said.

too quickly.

far too quickly.

jake's smile widened.

dangerously.

"the internet."

"yes."

"interesting."

"don't start."

"i haven't started anything."

he absolutely had.

they ended up sitting together.

which felt suspiciously familiar.

the same way filming had started feeling familiar.

except there were no cameras now.

no staff.

no producers.

no schedule.

just the two of them.

which somehow felt more intimidating.

jake set his drink down.

then looked around.

dramatically.

"where's the camera crew?"

seoyeon snorted.

actually snorted.

which immediately made jake look victorious.

"there it is."

"what?"

"the laugh."

"i hate you."

"no you don't."

the words came out casually.

playfully.

but something about them lingered.

neither commented on it.

a few minutes passed.

comfortable.

dangerously comfortable.

jake leaned back in his chair.

"this is weird."

seoyeon raised a brow.

"seeing me?"

"seeing you without a production schedule."

that was fair.

she understood exactly what he meant.

during filming, there had always been a reason.

a structure.

an excuse.

now there wasn't.

and yet,

they were still here.

jake glanced at her drink.

then immediately smiled.

"you still order the same thing."

seoyeon narrowed her eyes.

"you noticed that?"

"of course i did."

he looked genuinely confused.

like there had never been another possibility.

"you always get the same drink."

a pause.

then:

"you always stir it twice before drinking."

another pause.

"and you always read the back of the cup even though it's the same every time."

seoyeon stared.

jake froze.

slowly.

very slowly.

realization dawned.

"that sounded creepy."

"a little."

"a medium amount?"

"a medium amount."

he buried his face in his hands.

"i didn't mean it like that."

"i know."

"i'm not secretly tracking your beverage habits."

"good."

"i just pay attention."

his voice softened on the last sentence.

without meaning to.

without planning to.

it simply happened.

for a moment, neither spoke.

outside, people walked past the windows.

cars moved.

life continued.

inside, everything felt strangely still.

jake looked at her.

really looked at her.

and suddenly understood something that had been bothering him for weeks.

he had missed this.

not the show.

not the filming.

not the publicity.

this.

the easy conversation.

the way she looked amused before she smiled.

the way she never treated him differently.

the way being around her felt like taking a deep breath.

he had missed her.

a lot.

seoyeon looked up.

"depends."

"you always say that."

"it's a good system."

jake laughed.

then became unexpectedly serious.

"if the show never came back..."

she blinked.

he continued.

carefully.

"would we still do this?"

the question settled between them.

quietly.

he wasn't asking about filming.

they both knew that.

seoyeon looked down at her cup.

then back at him.

jake suddenly felt nervous.

which was ridiculous.

he performed in front of stadiums.

he talked to thousands of people.

he did interviews constantly.

yet somehow this felt harder.

finally, seoyeon spoke.

"jake."

his heart did something concerning.

because she rarely used his name like that.

"yeah?"

she tilted her head slightly.

the smallest smile appearing.

soft.

warm.

real.

"we're literally doing this right now."

silence.

then jake started laughing.

the kind that made him lean forward.

the kind he couldn't stop.

because she was right.

of course she was right.

they were already here.

already choosing each other.

without cameras.

without contracts.

without pretending.

when he finally stopped laughing, he looked at her again.

still smiling.

still there.

and for the first time since filming ended,

everything felt a little less uncertain.

because maybe the important part had never been the show.

maybe it had been the fact that, even after it ended,

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 𝟣𝟦𝟫𝟪 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔: 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗈𝗈, 𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀’𝗌 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍, 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀’𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗐𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇.

( 𝗜𝗗𝗢𝗟 𝗔𝗨 ) 𝗄𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗈𝗈 𝗑 𝗈𝖼 | 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 + 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽

𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦: jungwon, sunghoon, sunoo, jake, heeseung, ni-ki, jay

the first time sunoo stayed over, it was supposed to be simple.

just dinner.

just schedules aligning for once.

just heeseung insisting he didn’t need to rush back to the dorm because “you’re already here, just eat properly before you leave.”

sunoo had agreed too quickly.

he always did that at heeseung’s house. agreed first, thought later.

that was how he ended up sitting at the dining table, sleeves pushed up slightly, listening to the quiet clink of plates being set down.

lee haewon moved around the kitchen like she had done it a thousand times without needing to think about it.

which she had.

it was her home.

sunoo was just a guest.

“you don’t have to help,” she said without looking at him when he stood up automatically.

“i’m not helping,” he said politely. then, after a pause, added, “i’m just… existing nearby.”

heeseung made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sigh from the living room.

“that’s the most sunoo answer ever.”

haewon finally glanced over her shoulder.

not really at him.

just briefly, like confirming he was still there and not causing trouble.

“plates are on the left,” she said.

then turned back to the stove.

that was it.

no fuss. no extra attention.

sunoo sat back down.

for some reason, that felt easier.

“i have a call,” he said, already halfway standing. “sunoo, you’re sleeping here, right?”

sunoo blinked. “oh, i can head back-”

“you’re sleeping here,” heeseung repeated, like it wasn’t even a question anymore. “it’s late.”

then he was gone.

the apartment shifted slightly after that. quieter in a different way.

haewon started collecting plates.

sunoo hesitated, then stood to help.

this time she didn’t stop him.

they worked in silence for a few seconds.

comfortable. not forced.

just two people moving around the same space without stepping on each other.

then she spoke.

“you eat late a lot.”

sunoo paused slightly. “is that… a problem?”

“no,” she said simply. “just something i noticed.”

that was her thing, he realized.

she noticed things.

but didn’t make them bigger than they were.

he nodded once.

“work schedules,” he said.

“mm.”

no follow-up question.

no curiosity pretending to be polite.

just acknowledgement.

sunoo wasn’t sure why that felt like relief.

later, when the dishes were done, heeseung still hadn’t come back.

haewon set a glass of water down in front of him without asking.

then another for herself.

she sat across from him.

not diagonally. not too close. not too far.

just… across.

sunoo wrapped his fingers around the glass.

“thank you,” he said.

she nodded slightly. “you said that already.”

“i know,” he admitted. “i just… think i should say it properly.”

“you are saying it properly.”

that was it.

again.

he studied her briefly when she wasn’t looking directly at him.

she wasn’t like most people around him.

most people either:

tried too hard

or didn’t try at all

haewon did neither.

she just treated him like a normal variable in her space.

like sunoo wasn’t a concept.

just… a person sitting at her kitchen table.

she leaned back slightly in her chair.

“sometimes.”

“doesn’t it get tiring?”

she tilted her head a little.

“what part?”

he hesitated.

then gestured vaguely. “everything.”

haewon looked at him for a moment longer this time.

properly.

like she was actually considering the question instead of brushing past it.

“yes,” she said finally. “but it’s quiet.”

that answer didn’t fully explain anything.

and somehow explained too much.

sunoo nodded slowly.

he didn’t ask anything else.

he didn’t want to make the quiet heavier.

not dramatically.

not intentionally.

just… repetition.

sunoo came back.

again.

and again.

he told himself it was because of heeseung.

because schedules overlapped.

because it was easier.

because it was closer.

all technically true.

none of them fully honest.

not for her specifically.

just… for everyone.

he set them on the counter like it didn’t matter.

haewon glanced at them once.

“you didn’t have to bring that.”

“i know,” he said quickly. then added, “i mean, i wanted to.”

she hummed.

that was all.

but later, when he thought she wasn’t looking, she opened the bag and quietly rearranged it so it wouldn’t fall over.

sunoo noticed.

he didn’t say anything.

just smiled to himself a little where she couldn’t see.

haewon always drank tea at night.

she always turned off lights in the same order.

she always paused for half a second before sitting down, like she was checking the room first.

and she always noticed when he didn’t finish his food.

“you’re not eating that?” she asked one night.

sunoo looked down at his plate. “oh, i was going to.”

“you’re not going to.”

he blinked.

“…no?”

she reached over, took it, and placed it in a container without further discussion.

he watched her do it.

“you’re very efficient,” he said.

“you’re very slow,” she replied.

he laughed.

it slipped out before he could stop it.

real laughter.

not the controlled kind.

he froze slightly after it happened.

like he wasn’t expecting to hear himself do that here.

haewon didn’t react.

just closed the container.

“you should eat properly next time,” she said.

sunoo nodded.

but his mind was still on the fact that he had laughed without thinking about how it sounded.

of course he did.

he always did.

“you’ve been coming over a lot,” he said one afternoon, stretching out on the sofa.

sunoo paused mid-step. “is that… a problem?”

“no,” heeseung said easily. then added, slower, “you just seem… comfortable.”

sunoo blinked.

“i’m always comfortable here.”

heeseung looked at him for a second too long.

then smiled slightly.

“sure,” he said. “if you say so.”

sunoo didn’t like that tone.

he didn’t know why.

that was the strange part.

she just… accepted it.

like it was part of the house now.

like he was another object that occasionally appeared in the kitchen at night.

but over time, the “object” started speaking more.

and staying longer.

and showing up when he didn’t strictly need to.

heeseung was out.

haewon was in the kitchen, drying her hands when she spoke without turning around.

“you’re here late.”

sunoo leaned lightly against the doorway.

“schedule ended early.”

“mm.”

pause.

then, after a moment:

“you always come here when it rains.”

sunoo went still.

“…do i?”

“yes.”

he thought about denying it.

couldn’t find a reason to.

so he just said, “it’s quieter here.”

haewon finally turned slightly.

not fully.

just enough.

“your dorm isn’t quiet?”

sunoo hesitated.

then smiled a little, but it didn’t fully reach his eyes.

“it is,” he said. “just… not like this.”

haewon nodded once.

like that made sense.

like she didn’t need more explanation than that.

rain filled it.

soft, steady, uninterrupted.

sunoo stepped further inside without thinking.

haewon didn’t move.

didn’t question it.

just resumed what she was doing.

“you’re always calm,” he said quietly.

she paused.

“am i?”

“yeah.”

she thought about it for a second.

then said, “i just don’t see the point in being loud about things that don’t change.”

sunoo looked at her.

that sentence stayed.

longer than it should’ve.

he didn’t realize when it shifted.

not really.

it wasn’t a moment.

it was accumulation.

haewon handing him water without asking.

haewon noticing when he was tired.

haewon not treating him like something fragile or special.

just… consistent.

and consistency, sunoo realized, was dangerous.

because it started to feel like something he could rely on.

the night he almost stayed too late, heeseung wasn’t home again.

sunoo stood by the door longer than usual.

haewon was cleaning the counter.

“i should go,” he said automatically.

“you always say that late,” she replied.

he paused.

“do i?”

“yes.”

he smiled faintly. “habit.”

she glanced at him briefly.

“you don’t have to leave immediately.”

it wasn’t an invitation.

not really.

just a statement.

but it stopped him anyway.

sunoo looked at the door.

then back at her.

then stayed.

just a little longer.

no confession.

no sudden realization spoken out loud.

just the sound of rain outside.

and two people in a kitchen that slowly stopped feeling like it belonged to only one of them.

sunoo eventually leaned back against the counter.

haewon didn’t comment.

didn’t ask.

didn’t change anything about the moment.

and somehow, that was exactly why he didn’t want to leave yet.

because for once,

he wasn’t being looked at like sunoo the idol.

or sunoo the guest.

just sunoo.

sitting in a kitchen.

like he belonged there for reasons he didn’t fully understand yet.

and for the first time,

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 𝟤𝟤𝟤𝟥 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔: 𝗄𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗐𝗄𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍, 𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋𝗌, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗍.

( 𝗜𝗗𝗢𝗟 𝗔𝗨 ) 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝗈𝖼 | 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 + 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗑𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗒

𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦: jungwon, sunghoon, sunoo, jake, heeseung, ni-ki, jay

the elevator stopped at the worst possible time.

not that there’s ever a good time for an elevator to stop, but sunghoon would argue that just after a live broadcast recording, when his hair was still perfectly styled and his manager was already yelling into a phone outside, was especially unlucky.

the doors didn’t open.

they just… stalled.

a faint flicker of light passed overhead.

then silence.

he exhaled slowly, adjusting the cap pulled low over his face.

next to him, kang haein glanced at the control panel.

then at the doors.

then at him.

“this feels illegal,” she said.

sunghoon blinked. “illegal?”

“like elevators shouldn’t be allowed to just… stop existing in the middle of moving.”

there was no panic in her voice. no rising pitch. just a flat, thoughtful observation, like she was commenting on weather.

sunghoon wasn’t used to that.

he glanced at her briefly.

she didn’t look at him like most people did when they recognized him. no shock. no excitement. no sudden overreaction.

just calm.

like he was another person stuck in metal box with her.

his manager’s voice crackled faintly through the emergency speaker.

“sunghoon? can you hear me? we’re working on it—”

“we can hear you,” haein said, leaning slightly toward the panel.

sunghoon hesitated. then added, “it’s fine.”

a pause.

“it is not fine,” his manager replied immediately.

haein tilted her head. “it’s slightly fine.”

sunghoon looked at her.

that made her glance at him for the first time properly.

“…slightly fine?” he repeated.

“we’re not falling,” she said. “we’re just trapped. those are different categories.”

he almost smiled at that.

it wasn’t uncomfortable silence.

just… present.

the kind of silence that didn’t demand to be filled.

sunghoon wasn’t sure what to do with that.

usually, silence meant something was wrong. or that he was supposed to perform. smile. react. fill space.

here, it just existed.

haein leaned lightly against the wall, scrolling through her phone like this was a mildly inconvenient bus ride.

sunghoon shifted his weight.

“how long do you think it’ll take?” he asked.

she didn’t look up. “depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether the building maintenance team is efficient or spiritually aligned with chaos today.”

he stared at her.

“…that’s not a real measurement system.”

“it is in my experience.”

he let out a quiet breath that might’ve been a laugh if it had gone a little further.

she noticed.

not the sound exactly, but the change.

her eyes flicked up briefly.

then back to her phone.

“you laugh quietly,” she said.

sunghoon paused. “is that… bad?”

“no,” she said. “it’s just accurate.”

that should’ve been nothing.

maybe twenty.

maybe more.

time felt strange in a box that didn’t move.

sunghoon eventually sat down against the wall, careful not to crease anything.

haein glanced down at him.

then, after a second, she slid down as well, sitting across from him with her knees slightly bent.

still not looking flustered.

still not reacting like this was unusual.

“you’re very calm,” he said before he could stop himself.

she hummed faintly. “am i?”

“most people would be… stressed.”

“i am aware of the situation,” she said. “i just don’t see the benefit of panicking about it while we’re still inside it.”

he nodded slowly.

that made sense.

in a way that didn’t make sense for how easily she said it.

a pause.

“do you get stuck in elevators often?” she asked.

he blinked. “no.”

“shame. you’re quite good at it.”

he huffed a short breath. “thank you?”

“you’re welcome.”

he was aware of that.

idol. stranger. enclosed space. no escape.

and yet…

it wasn’t.

because she didn’t treat him like a situation.

just a person.

he wasn’t sure when that last happened.

his phone buzzed again.

he ignored it.

haein noticed.

“work?” she asked.

“something like that.”

she nodded like that was enough information.

no follow-up questions.

no curiosity disguised as politeness.

just acceptance.

that, somehow, made his chest feel lighter.

both of them looked up instinctively.

“that sounded promising,” haein said.

“or catastrophic,” he replied.

“optimism is a choice.”

“so is pessimism.”

she tilted her head slightly. “you’re surprisingly philosophical for someone stuck in an elevator.”

“i think it’s the situation.”

“no,” she said after a beat. “i think it’s you.”

that made him look at her again.

properly this time.

she wasn’t smiling.

not teasing.

just stating it like fact.

sunghoon didn’t know what to say to that.

so he didn’t.

this one softer than before.

less careful.

more natural.

haein shifted slightly, pulling one knee closer.

“can i ask something?” she said suddenly.

he nodded.

“does it get tiring?”

sunghoon paused. “what does?”

she glanced at him briefly, then away again.

“being… you.”

there was no pity in her voice.

just curiosity.

honest and blunt in a way that didn’t feel invasive.

he looked down at his hands for a moment.

he didn’t answer immediately.

because he didn’t know how.

finally, he said, “yes.”

simple.

truthful.

no decoration.

haein nodded once, like she’d expected that.

“figured.”

that was it.

no sympathy.

no discomfort.

no attempt to fix it.

just acknowledgement.

for some reason, that was worse and better at the same time.

the elevator jolted suddenly.

both of them steadied instinctively.

his hand reached the rail.

hers did too.

for a second, their hands were near each other.

not touching.

just close enough to notice.

the lights flickered again.

then steadied.

haein exhaled softly. “still alive. good sign.”

sunghoon let out a quiet breath of amusement.

“you say that like it’s a daily check.”

“it is. metaphorically.”

he nodded slowly.

then, without thinking, said, “you’re not like most people.”

haein looked at him properly now.

“is that good or bad?”

he hesitated.

then answered honestly.

“good.”

a pause.

“you’re not like most idols either,” she replied.

that made him still.

she added, almost as an afterthought, “you’re quieter than i expected.”

he gave a small, almost helpless shrug.

“i’m usually not stuck in elevators.”

“fair.”

then the faint sound of tools.

progress.

haein leaned her head back against the wall.

“we might get out soon,” she said.

sunghoon nodded.

he wasn’t sure why that felt slightly… disappointing.

he shouldn’t have thought that.

but he did.

the elevator shuddered once more.

then, slowly, began to move.

a small motion.

then more steady.

lights stabilized fully.

the emergency speaker crackled.

“we’ve got it moving again, stand by.”

haein glanced at him.

“well,” she said, “that was almost memorable.”

sunghoon huffed a soft laugh. “almost?”

“elevators have competition,” she said. “life is full of them.”

the doors slid open.

bright hallway light spilled in.

noise returned all at once.

people.

movement.

normality.

sunghoon stood.

so did she.

for a moment, neither stepped out.

just a pause.

a threshold.

then haein walked forward first.

calm as ever.

no hesitation.

no looking back.

sunghoon followed a second later.

outside, everything returned too quickly.

voices. staff. managers. instructions.

but just before she turned away fully, haein glanced at him once more.

brief.

neutral.

“try not to get stuck again,” she said.

he almost smiled.

“i’ll try.”

a beat.

then she added, “you handled it fine.”

and walked away.

just like that.

no lingering.

no dramatics.

no attempt to make it more than it was.

sunghoon watched her go for a second longer than necessary.

then looked down at his hands again.

the elevator was just an elevator again.

but something about it didn’t feel like just a moment anymore.

it felt like the beginning of something that hadn’t introduced itself properly yet.

not consciously, at least.

it was just one of those strange, contained moments life occasionally dropped into her schedule and then quietly sealed away.

back to work.

back to deadlines.

back to normal silence.

sunghoon, she assumed, would do the same.

people like him probably had a thousand moments like that. just… different boxes. different ceilings.

she was wrong.

it happened again two weeks later.

not the elevator.

not exactly.

this time, it was the building lobby.

haein had just finished picking up a delivery package when she heard her name called—lightly, uncertainly, like someone testing whether they were allowed to say it.

“uh… excuse me.”

she turned.

sunghoon stood a few steps away.

no stage outfit.

no bright lights.

just a dark coat, mask slightly lowered, hands loosely holding a phone he wasn’t looking at anymore.

he looked like someone trying very hard to exist quietly in public.

for a second, neither of them moved.

then haein said, “you’re not stuck this time.”

it came out flat.

observational.

like she was noting weather again.

something in his shoulders loosened slightly at that.

“…no,” he said. “i’m not.”

pause.

“good,” she added. “elevators are statistically exhausting.”

that got it.

a small exhale from him. almost a laugh.

he adjusted his grip on the phone.

“i wasn’t sure you’d remember me,” he said.

haein blinked once.

“you were in an elevator with me for twenty-three minutes.”

“it was twenty-seven.”

“you timed it?”

“…maybe.”

she nodded slowly. “that tracks.”

silence.

not uncomfortable.

just… restarting.

then back at her.

like he was deciding something small but important.

“i was nearby,” he said finally. “schedule ended early.”

“mm.”

“i didn’t… plan to come here.”

“you’re explaining a lot for someone who didn’t plan anything,” she said.

he paused.

then, quietly, “i do that.”

haein looked at him properly now.

not like an idol.

not like an incident.

just like a person standing in a lobby trying not to make it weird.

“…why?” she asked.

he hesitated.

then shrugged slightly.

“it feels easier when things are clear.”

haein nodded once.

“understandable.”

another pause.

then, unexpectedly:

“are you busy?”

sunghoon said it like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

haein looked down at her bag.

then back at him.

“not urgently.”

he nodded.

then, after a beat:

“there’s a café across the street. it’s quiet.”

she considered that.

not him.

the suggestion.

then said, “is it quiet because no one goes there or because it’s actually quiet?”

“…both.”

“that’s rare.”

“it is.”

haein adjusted her grip on the package.

“fine,” she said. “i need caffeine anyway.”

sunghoon blinked slightly.

like that wasn’t the answer he expected.

“okay,” he said.

then added, almost automatically, “okay.”

not aesthetic in a curated way.

just… overlooked.

warm lighting. slightly scratched tables. a window that let in too much grey daylight.

exactly the kind of place haein liked without ever saying it out loud.

they sat near the back.

not facing each other at first.

side by side, like two people who hadn’t decided what direction this was supposed to take.

sunghoon took his mask off once they were seated.

no one reacted.

no one looked twice.

haein noticed that he noticed that.

he exhaled slowly, like his body was adjusting to something unfamiliar.

“this place is nice,” she said.

“yeah,” he agreed. “it’s… normal.”

she glanced at him. “that sounds like a compliment coming from you.”

“it is.”

a pause.

then, softer:

“most places aren’t.”

haein didn’t ask what he meant by that.

she just nodded.

“then this one wins.”

that made him look at her.

properly again.

like he was checking if she meant it.

she did.

someone laughed near the window.

life continued around them without interruption.

sunghoon stirred his drink slowly.

then said, “i didn’t expect you to say yes.”

haein raised a brow slightly. “to coffee?”

“to… this.”

he didn’t clarify.

he didn’t need to.

she understood anyway.

she leaned back slightly in her chair.

“you didn’t seem dangerous,” she said.

he almost choked on his drink.

“that’s… reassuring.”

“it’s efficient,” she corrected.

he let out a small laugh this time.

not quiet.

not controlled.

just real.

he looked slightly surprised it happened.

there was a pause after that.

a comfortable one again.

different from the elevator.

less trapped.

more chosen.

sunghoon glanced at her hands resting on the table.

“you’re still calm,” he said.

haein tilted her head slightly. “should i not be?”

“most people… change a bit after meeting me.”

“how?”

he hesitated.

then shrugged.

“louder. more careful. more aware.”

haein hummed softly.

“sounds tiring.”

that landed somewhere deeper than either of them commented on.

when they left the café, the sky had shifted slightly darker.

not night yet.

just the in-between.

sunghoon stopped at the door.

“i’ll probably be in the area again,” he said.

then immediately looked like he regretted saying it out loud.

haein adjusted her bag strap.

“okay,” she said.

pause.

then added, as if it was the most natural thing in the world:

“don’t get stuck anywhere this time.”

he smiled.

small.

real.

“i’ll try not to.”

she nodded once.

then walked away first again.

just like before.

not because anything dramatic had happened.

but because nothing had.

and yet,

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 𝟤𝟢𝟢𝟫 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔: 𝗌𝖾𝗈 𝗒𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍-𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇, 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍, 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿-𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖺.

( 𝗜𝗗𝗢𝗟 𝗔𝗨 ) 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝗈𝖼 | 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 + 𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋

𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦: jungwon, sunghoon, sunoo, jake, heeseung, ni-ki, jay

the first time seo yuna met her neighbor, he was wearing cat pajamas.

not cute cat pajamas.

embarrassing cat pajamas.

the kind covered in tiny cartoon cats wearing sunglasses.

yuna had just moved into her apartment and was struggling to drag a suitcase through the hallway when the elevator opened.

there stood a boy holding a trash bag.

they stared at each other.

his eyes widened.

her eyes narrowed.

"you know your trash bag is leaking, right?" she asked.

he immediately looked down.

"oh."

something dripped onto his pajama pants.

his expression shifted from confusion to horror.

the elevator doors closed.

yuna continued toward her apartment.

behind her, she heard him mutter a very distressed

"oh no."

the yang jungwon.

the idol.

the celebrity.

the person whose face was currently staring at her from a convenience store advertisement.

yuna paused.

looked at the advertisement.

looked at her neighbor's door.

looked back at the advertisement.

then shrugged and continued walking.

three days later, she found him sitting on the floor outside his apartment.

"locked out?" she asked.

jungwon sighed.

"locked out."

"you don't have a spare key?"

"i did."

"what happened to it?"

"i locked it inside."

yuna stared at him.

he stared back.

"that's impressive."

"thank you."

"i wasn't complimenting you."

that was the beginning.

not a dramatic first meeting.

not fate.

just two neighbors who kept running into each other.

literally, sometimes.

"why do you have so much milk?" she asked.

he looked down.

there were eight cartons.

"...it was on sale."

"you live alone."

"i know."

"you physically cannot drink that much milk."

"i'll try."

"you'll die."

"i'll die saving money."

for some reason, that conversation turned into them carrying groceries together.

which somehow turned into talking.

which somehow turned into friendship.

yuna learned that jungwon was terrible at cooking.

absolutely terrible.

a few moments later, her phone buzzed.

neighbor hypothetically, how bad is it if smoke is coming out of a pan?

yuna immediately replied.

how much smoke?

a picture arrived.

the pan was black.

the kitchen looked apocalyptic.

jungwon.

yes?

open your windows.

five minutes later, she was standing in his kitchen.

"how did you burn instant noodles?"

"they said three minutes."

"yes."

"i forgot."

"for how long?"

"...twenty."

yuna stared.

jungwon looked genuinely ashamed.

she laughed so hard she nearly fell over.

and for the first time since she'd moved in, she saw him laugh too.

not the polished smile she recognized from television.

a real one.

bright and warm and slightly embarrassed.

the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

something about it stayed with her long after she returned home.

their friendship settled into a routine.

a comfortable one.

the best kind.

sometimes he brought her convenience store snacks after late schedules.

they signed for each other's packages.

watered each other's plants.

shared elevator rides.

shared rooftops.

shared ordinary moments.

one rainy evening, yuna found a cardboard box outside the building.

inside sat a tiny orange cat.

wet.

miserable.

angry.

very loud.

"oh, you poor thing."

the cat hissed.

yuna blinked.

"that's fair."

the next morning she found a bowl of cat food beside the box.

the morning after that, there was a blanket.

the morning after that, a small toy mouse.

yuna immediately knew who was responsible.

that night she knocked on jungwon's door.

he opened it.

"what?"

"the cat."

"what cat?"

"the cat you've been secretly spoiling."

"i don't know what you're talking about."

"the toy mouse literally has a receipt from the convenience store downstairs."

"..."

"..."

"...maybe i know a cat."

yuna walked outside carrying cat treats.

the orange cat immediately ignored her.

ran straight past.

and launched itself into jungwon's arms.

"what?"

the cat purred.

"what?!"

jungwon looked extremely pleased with himself.

"looks like he prefers me."

"you bribed him."

"i would never."

"you absolutely would."

the cat ended up belonging to both of them.

and vice versa.

she didn't notice it happening.

not at first.

the way she automatically looked toward his door when she came home.

the way she bought two drinks instead of one.

the way she saved funny stories to tell him later.

maybe because it felt natural.

like it had always been that way.

the city glittered beneath them.

the orange cat, now named tangerine after a heated debate, slept between them.

yuna was writing in a small notebook.

jungwon glanced over.

"what are you doing?"

she immediately covered the page.

"nothing."

"you're writing."

"no i'm not."

"yuna."

"no."

"yuna."

"no."

three minutes later, he had the notebook.

because despite being an idol, jungwon apparently had the maturity of a twelve-year-old when it came to curiosity.

his eyes scanned the page.

then another.

and another.

his expression softened.

"what is this?"

yuna suddenly looked shy.

which almost never happened.

"it's stupid."

"it's not."

the notebook was filled with tiny moments.

little things.

nothing important.

or maybe everything important.

the old woman on the third floor gave me candy.

found five dollars in my winter coat.

tangerine finally let me pet him.

the sunset looked pink today.

jungwon burned pasta again.

jungwon laughed.

"i can't believe that's in here."

"you did burn pasta."

"i was improving."

"you started a grease fire."

"it was one time."

"it was three."

but he kept reading.

page after page.

and gradually, he noticed something.

his name appeared often.

very often.

jungwon helped carry my groceries.

jungwon remembered my favorite drink.

watched a movie with jungwon.

jungwon laughed so hard he snorted.

something warm settled in his chest.

a feeling he couldn't quite name.

"can i ask something?" he said quietly.

yuna nodded.

"why do you write these down?"

she looked out across the city.

"i don't know."

a small smile appeared.

"i think people spend too much time waiting for big happy moments."

she tapped the notebook.

"so i collect the small ones."

jungwon didn't know why that answer affected him so much.

at least, jungwon tried to convince himself they were.

the problem was that every time he saw something funny, his first thought was:

yuna would laugh at this.

a weird-looking cloud.

a cat sleeping in a café window.

a street sign that had been translated terribly.

his phone gallery was becoming concerning.

on day four, sunoo noticed.

unfortunately.

"why do you have seventeen photos of random cats?"

jungwon nearly dropped his phone.

"i don't."

"you literally do."

sunoo snatched the phone before jungwon could stop him.

his eyes widened.

then he looked up.

slowly.

dangerously.

"guys."

that one word was enough.

within seconds, the rest of enhypen appeared.

"what's happening?" jake asked.

"why are we gathering?" heeseung added.

sunghoon looked half asleep.

ni-ki looked excited despite having no information.

jay looked concerned.

which was somehow worse.

sunoo held up the phone.

"i have evidence."

jungwon immediately regretted everything.

"evidence of what?" jake asked.

sunoo swiped through the photos.

cat.

cat.

cat.

coffee cup.

cat.

sunset.

cat.

a picture of a convenience store snack.

cat.

"..."

"..."

"..."

jay blinked.

"are you secretly becoming a cat?"

"no."

"then why are there so many cat pictures?"

jungwon opened his mouth.

closed it.

opened it again.

"i just like cats."

the room exploded.

"no way."

"he likes someone."

"HE LIKES SOMEONE."

"our leader is finished."

"I DON'T LIKE ANYONE."

nobody listened.

sunghoon finally glanced up from his phone.

"is it your neighbor?"

silence.

absolute silence.

jungwon froze.

the members froze.

then everybody started screaming.

"it's the neighbor."

"I KNEW IT. "

"i actually knew it."

"that's so cute."

jungwon covered his face.

"how did you even know?"

sunghoon shrugged.

"because every time someone mentions home, you smile."

the room immediately became quieter.

for a moment nobody teased him.

then ni-ki ruined it.

"oh my god, he's down bad."

his phone buzzed.

yuna

tangerine stole someone's sandwich today.

a photo appeared.

the orange cat looked entirely unapologetic.

jungwon laughed.

almost immediately another message arrived.

yuna

also, the old lady on the third floor asked when you're coming back.

i think she misses having someone to boss around.

jungwon smiled.

then typed:

tell her i'll be back soon.

his thumb hovered over the screen.

for a second, he considered typing something else.

something honest.

something dangerous.

i miss you.

instead, he deleted it.

jungwon

tell tangerine i miss him too.

the reply came instantly.

yuna

sure. definitely the cat.

jungwon stared at the message.

she hated that she noticed.

she hated that she missed him.

one evening she found herself standing in front of his apartment.

just staring at the door.

the realization hit her slowly.

then all at once.

"oh."

unfortunately, that realization arrived at exactly the same time jungwon's did.

which meant both of them spent the next several days being completely normal.

by completely normal, of course, they meant panicking internally.

when jungwon finally returned, yuna opened her door and found him standing in the hallway.

suitcase in hand.

looking tired.

looking happy to be home.

for a moment neither moved.

then yuna smiled.

"welcome back."

and something inside jungwon immediately settled.

like a missing puzzle piece clicking into place.

that night they watched a movie together.

halfway through, yuna fell asleep.

as usual.

jungwon glanced over.

her head tilted awkwardly against the couch.

a blanket slipping from her shoulders.

the notebook resting beside her.

the notebook.

the little collection of happy moments.

without thinking, he picked it up.

not to read.

just to move it.

a loose paper slipped out.

jungwon caught it before it hit the floor.

his eyes landed on the handwriting.

things that make me happiest lately.

there was a list underneath.

tangerine.

sunny mornings.

fresh bread.

finishing books.

late-night conversations.

jungwon.

jungwon stared.

then read it again.

just to make sure.

his heart did something very unhelpful.

the next morning, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

or her.

yuna opened it.

"hey."

"hey."

silence.

"you look nervous."

"i am."

"why?"

"i think i need to tell you something."

yuna immediately became nervous too.

"oh."

"oh."

neither knew what to do.

finally jungwon laughed.

a little helplessly.

a little fondly.

then he looked at her.

really looked at her.

and said,

"i think you're my favorite part of coming home."

everything went quiet.

the hallway.

the building.

the world.

just for a second.

then yuna smiled.

slowly.

softly.

beautifully.

"good."

jungwon blinked.

"good?"

she laughed.

the kind of laugh that always made him smile too.

"because you're mine."

for once in his life, yang jungwon had absolutely nothing clever to say.

from the third floor, a door opened.

an elderly neighbor peeked into the hallway.

took one look at them.

and sighed dramatically.

"finally."

the door closed again.

yuna burst out laughing.

jungwon buried his face in his hands.

and somewhere outside, tangerine meowed in approval.