Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Haechan didn’t know who he was kissing. All he knew was that the man was very skillful, and very strong. Strong enough to hold him up for who knew how long they’d been making out. 

“Hey! Watch it!”

“What the fuck?”

“Get a fucking room, jeez!”

They were deaf to the protestations of the people around them. Haechan was mildly aware that he was being carried away from the crowd. But his train of thought frazzled to nothing but a haze of desire as his back hit the wall and a tongue swirled around his mouth tasting like cranberries. Jesus, he hadn’t expected this.

It was a normal Friday night out with friends. Only, he had something big to celebrate tonight.

“To Haechan being on Dazed Korea!” Renjun had cheered, raising his shot glass.

“To finally making it big!” Doyoung said.

They all clinked their glasses before downing the shots. Haechan wasn’t exactly a toquilla guy, but this was huge. For a ballet dancer like him, finally breaking through, finally catching the eye of the public and making people fall in love with ballet dancing - how many dancers got asked to do an interview and a photoshoot? How many dancers were invited to perform as a soloist in front of the nation’s leaders?

“When’s the interview again?” Jeno asked.

“Monday morning,” Haechan said.

“That’s a relief,” Jaemin said, picking up his second shot. “At least you won’t be hungover when they ask you about who you’re dating.”

Jaemin was one of the only friends who wasn’t a ballerino. He was a journalist, and he knew exactly the kinda bullshit magazine interviewers wanted to know to make the article seem juicier for the audience. He had even given Haechan a rundown of a possible format that Dazed Korea might follow, to help him prepare and not embarrass himself.

“I’m not dating anyone though,” Haechan shrugged.

“Yes, and you will tell them that if you want, but make sure to circle back to the main topic,” Jaemin said. “For instance, if they ask if you’re dating someone, you’ll say something like ‘oh ballet takes up most of my time, eight-ten hours of practice each day. I hardly get the time to date. But I don’t mind, ballet is my life’ - something along these lines.”

“Well, you certainly know how to make a story, Na Jaemin!” Chenle laughed.

“Says the PR rat,” Jaemin scoffed. “You make stories for a living!”

Chenle was the other friend who wasn’t a ballerino. He worked for one of the big entertainment companies that sponsored idols and he had enough secrets at the tip of his tongue to ruin most of the idols whose image he protected. Haechan felt glad that he’d chosen ballet instead of becoming an idol like his mom wanted. Hearing the stories Chenle told them, Haechan had no interest in being part of a world full of scripted lies, fake personalities, and make-belief fame that crumpled down at the slightest rumors. Not to mention the unuttered homophobia.

“Well, here’s to me bringing ballet to the forefront!” Haechan laughed, downing another shot.

It happened a few weeks ago. Haechan had always loved music, and if his mom had gotten her way with him, he’d be singing ballads on stages. Fortunately, that hadn’t happened. But his love for music had led him to experiment dance routines that the masters at the Imperial Ballet Academy in Seoul would definitely frown at. It didn’t stop him from filming ballet dance covers to popular hit songs and uploading them on his YouTube channel though. He’d done dance covers to songs by Justin Bieber, Beyoncé, Michael Jackson, and many more. 

It was the dance cover to Exo’s 'Been Through' that made him viral. And once people found out that he was a ballet dancer dancing to modern songs by famous artists like Exo, everything blew up. Almost all his videos now had millions of views. He had a whooping 998 thousand subscribers! It was ridiculous.

“I’m really grateful to you guys though, really,” Haechan said, the alcohol taking a hold of his smiles. “If it weren’t for you guys–”

“That’s what friends are for, dumbass!” Renjun said, pulling him in for a side hug.

“Well, you still owe me dinner at Raintree BBQ,” Jaemin reminded him cheerfully.

Haechan’s fame was a joint effort. Doyoung, Renjun, and Jeno always helped him with the choreographies. Jaemin filmed the videos and edited them. Chenle took care of the channel’s content management. Haechan was really lucky to have such good friends, and he planned to acknowledge each and every one of them at the interview. He owed them for his rise to fame, however small that fame may be.

“If the interview goes well, I’ll buy dinner at Raintree for all of you,” Haechan smiled big and carefree.

“Here’s to hoping you don’t fuck up,” Doyoung raised his vodka on the rocks. 

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the song they were playing at the club, but Haechan was soon walking over to the crowded dance floor on wobbly feet. He had never been here before, it was a bit exclusive for his taste. Doyoung said they shouldn’t hold back on celebrations since this was a special occasion. He was getting offers for more and more dramas, and this place was apparently a regular for the upper class celebrities. Haechan still couldn’t think of himself as one of the people he saw on TV, but hey, at least the drinks were top notch. And the music choices were immaculate.

Haechan knew he was more than a bit tipsy, at that point of feeling everything slow down. Which made the music sound even better, the bass reverberating with his pulse. It made his body sway on its own accord. He let go of himself, arms up over his head, fully letting the beat and the crowd sway him this way and that. Maybe that was why he hadn’t noticed the solid body dancing with him, behind him, for who knew how long.

It was the scent of crushed mint and lemongrass that gave the person away, cutting through the stench of alcohol and sweat and too expensive colognes. Haechan didn’t know if he was the one who had pulled in a stranger or if the stranger had been the one to pull him in, but their dance had turned sensual at some point and Haechan had no problems with that. He could feel the coolness of a leather jacket against his back. He was only wearing a thin white t-shirt, sleeves rolled up, tucked into camo pants. It did nothing to stop the warmth of a hand splayed on his stomach from seeping in, making him shiver in the stifling heat of the dance floor.

He didn’t know when his left hand had moved backwards, fingers tangling into slightly rough hair, his right hand over the stranger's at his torso, fingers intertwining. It took him embarrassingly long to realize he was basically grinding against the stranger. He was thinking of stopping, detangling himself from this man whom he didn’t even know, when he felt warm breaths on his neck. Then lips, placed lightly, giving him a feather-light kiss between his neck and shoulder. He couldn’t help the gasp, his head involuntarily falling back, giving the stranger more access which was fully appreciated as Haechan felt more kisses against his neck, near his throat.

With the start of a new song, Haechan felt his dance partner grab his waist and turn him around. He complied obediently, coming face to face with a pair of sparkling dark eyes, a pierced brow, prominent cheekbones, and short blond hair. He didn’t know who this man was, but god, he was handsome. The sharp lines of his face, full lips, broad shoulders, the hand splayed at the small of Haechan’s back pulling him towards this man, everything was a turn on.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the handsome face of the stranger that was a little too close, a little convenient, Haechan didn’t know, he just knew what his impulses wanted. He went in for a kiss, a light brush of lips, a fearful few seconds of waiting to see if the stranger would pull away or not. Definitely not. Right when Haechan was thinking of pulling away, the man chased after him, locking their lips in a deeper kiss.

It was true that Haechan practiced ballet for eight to ten hours a day since he'd been thirteen, sometimes more. He'd started later compared to others, that was why he had to work extra hard to get into the IBA. And even after getting in, he’d never had a chance to relax. Jaemin had been right, he had no time for dating. But it didn’t mean he had never kissed anyone. Hell, Haechan had had more than a handful of one-night-stands. He was well acquainted with these drunken kisses in darkened clubs with loud music making his heart pound. Except, he was pretty sure his heart was pounding for entirely different reasons now. 

They were still dancing, still swaying with the music against each other. Haechan had his arms around the stranger’s neck, the man had his hands on Haechan’s waist. They held each other close as the kisses turned deeper. Haechan felt the stranger lightly bite into his bottom lip, he returned the favor by running his tongue against the stranger’s open mouth.

He didn’t know when they’d started moving away from the dance floor. One moment they were swaying with the crowd, the next, they were colliding against bodies. At some point, the stranger had picked him up, wrapping Haechan’s legs against his waist, holding him up by the holds on his thighs. It was a turn on, to say the least. Which would explain why he was gripping handfuls of dyed blond hair, pulling the man in for open-mouthed kisses.

Haechan knew at the back of his head that he should at least get a name before going further. But one carefully controlled grind of the stranger’s hips against his and he was ready to forget every thought except that sensation in his gut. The hand gripping his ass did nothing but escalate the situation, making him moan involuntarily into the stranger’s mouth. Another sway of hips and Haechan was ready to pull the stranger into one of the bathrooms for a quickie.

The man had other plans though. He slowly kissed his way down Haechan’s jaw, moved to his neck, lightly biting and making Haechan gasp aloud. 

“God, I love the sounds you make,” the stranger whispered right into Haechan’s ear.

Haechan wondered for the second time how this was even real. Especially when he felt the man release him, putting him back on his feet and giving him another mind-numbing kiss, before slowly dropping down on his knees.

“Oh,” Haechan said stupidly, realizing what was happening. “Oh, god!”

His brain was lagging too much to catch up to the fact that the man kneeling in front of him had his face pressed against his crotch, breathing in. Haechan braced himself against the wall behind him, hands itching to tangle into the blond hair. The stranger had long, pretty fingers, Haechan noticed unintentionally. Well manicured. It was all that kept him from freaking out about the man working to free his belt.

“Hold this,” the man said, pulling up Haechan’s t-shirt and gesturing for him to keep it away from interrupting the man’s actions. Haechan could do nothing but obey.

At the first touch of the stranger’s tongue on his dick, Haechan clamped a hand over his own mouth to keep from making obscene sounds. This was still a club, a public place. Sure, they were at a small alcove, people weren’t near them, and the music was too loud for anyone to hear him properly. But it still put him on edge. He hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. All his hookups had been private. This felt too out in the open, too public. And it only heightened the feeling of having his dick in someone’s mouth where literally anybody could walk in on them.

Oh god, did Haechan have a kink like this?

Haechan felt his head fall back against the wall, pulse racing against his neck. His thighs quivered with pleasure under the grip of the stranger. He couldn’t help but grab a fistful of blond hair, his other hand in a fist in his mouth that did nothing to stop the broken moans from escaping his lips. He had never done something like this while being this drunk. Maybe that was why his heart felt ready to leap out of his chest. Or maybe it was the stranger’s large, sparkling eyes looking up at him, cheeks hollow, sucking the life out of him through his dick. Haechan didn’t know. All he knew was that he was very quickly approaching climax and all he could do was let out a surprised moan before releasing himself inside the stranger’s mouth. The stranger didn’t let him go until he came down from the high of climax, swallowing him up before standing up again.

Haechan was barely aware of the man helping him fix his clothes again, too occupied by the kiss that tasted like cranberries and himself. It was so filthy yet hot that he felt his hands fist into the leather jacket, pulling the stranger closer and swaying his hips forward. It got him a surprise groan, clearly the man was hard and too strung up to say no to Haechan’s advances. And Haechan was more than willing to return the favor.

“Mark? Mark! Where you run off, you dumbass?” A voice yelled pretty close to where they stood.

Haechan felt the stranger freeze against him. For a second he thought something was wrong, like, really really wrong. He wouldn’t be surprised if the guy who just gave him such a damn good head turned out to be a closeted bigot, or worse, a homophobe. There were too many of those around. Maybe the guy had been drunk enough to forget his bearings for a while and suddenly remembered his act at the slightest threat of being found out by someone.

“Mark! Where the fuck are you? Jesus!” The voice yelled again, this time a little further. 

“I have to go,” the stranger whispered, closing his eyes for a bit.

They stood nose to nose. And for all that Haechan knew, the guy in front of him didn’t seem like a bigot. Definitely not a homophobe judging by the way he smirked subtly. He felt the stranger’s fingertips trace his jaw lightly, making him shiver, before he was pulled into another open-mouthed kiss that took his breath away.

The stranger was gone after a small peck on his cheek. Of all the things that had happened in the last hour, that unsettled Haechan the most. It felt intimate, a kiss to the cheek, that held real affection, that was something friends or lovers did. Not strangers. 

It took him a while to catch his breath before coming out of the small alcove. The club suddenly felt too loud, too crowded. The alcohol in his system was finally showing its side-effects. His head pounded with the loud beat, not in a good way. When he came back to the table where he’d been sitting, only Jeno and Jaemin remained.

“Hey, where’d you run off to?” Jaemin asked.

Haechan didn’t feel like elaborating everything that happened from dirty dancing to getting a blowjob by a stranger he didn’t even know the name of. “Where’s everyone else?” He asked instead.

“Chenle had to take care of another PR emergency,” Jeno said. 

“Doyoung went off to meet his secret boyfriend,” Jaemin shrugged. “Renjun is probably still dancing.”

“I’m gonna get another drink,” Jeno said while getting up from his seat. “You guys want anything.”

“That blue cocktail you just had,” Jaemin said. “Whatever that was.”

“Nothing, thanks,” Haechan shook his head mildly. “I’m gonna head home, get some rest.”

“You sure?” Jeno asked, surprised. “You have the whole weekend to recover before the interview. What happened to getting trashed until you passed out?”

“I’d rather not. Don’t really feel like it,” Haechan said. 

It was a shitty excuse. Not even an actual excuse. But after that turbulent sexual experience, getting even more drunk felt like the worse possible thing to do. His stomach was too full of that tingling feeling you got after an intense climax, almost as if his body was preparing to be even more sexually active. Fat chance that was gonna happen tonight.

“Well, as long as you had fun,” Jaemin said, smirking.

Haechan was too drunk to decipher whatever the fuck Jaemin meant. “I’m just gonna call a cab. See you later,” Haechan said before heading out.

Saturday afternoon, when Haechan finally woke up with a mild hangover and his bladder ready to burst, he found out what Jaemin had meant. In the bathroom mirror, in broad daylight, Haechan noticed his neck and shoulder peppered with marks. Hickeys. The stranger had given him hickeys. When? How? Haechan hadn’t even been aware of it? He had only registered kisses, maybe one or two instances where the man had bitten him, very lightly at that. Or, had it been his drunk brain which had failed to register the full extent of last night’s fling?

Haechan felt hot, color rising to his cheeks as he inspected the purple bruises, remembering everything from the dance to the kisses, to the man kneeling between his legs. 

God, what a night! Haechan just hoped the hickeys would disappear before Monday. His Dazed Korea interview required a photoshoot as well, and he’d rather not deal with the make-up artists having to put extra concealer on him to cover the marks. He’d die of embarrassment if that happened.

Little did he know, he would have more things to worry about than hickeys at his first magazine shoot. And he couldn’t mask it all with concealer.

Chapter Text

Haechan was mildly panicking. 

No, that was a lie. Haechan was full-on panicking with a capital P. He barely got sleep, woke up at 5 in the morning, and started dancing to relax. It helped only a little. Because now his mind just didn’t have energy to think and overthink all the scenarios of things going wrong at the interview, but he was tired and sleep deprived nonetheless.

The last time this had happened was during his entrance exam for the Imperial Ballet Academy (IBA), he’d nearly pissed himself and twisted an ankle doing simple turns. Thankfully his determination to get in had prevented his worst nightmares from coming true. But that had been because he’d already known what to expect. He’d known about the spins and jumps they were going to want to see, he’d known exactly what reward he would get if he succeeded - admission in South Korea’s most esteemed ballet school. 

With this interview, however, Haechan didn’t know shit. Dazed Korea had emailed him a set of questions they’d be asking during the interview which were simple enough. He’d gone through all of them last night with Jaemin and Chenle. But the magazine staff had also mentioned that the editor might ask some impromptu questions as well, and that was what Haechan was scared of. He didn’t know how to prepare for that. 

“Just be yourself,” Jaemin and Chenle had both encouraged him. 

“What if they don't like me being myself?” Haechan had asked in a panic. 

“What, you want to craft a fake self to appeal to the general audience now?” Chenle had mocked. “You won’t be able to keep up the act, you’re too much of a real person. It takes years for idols to craft an image and lie about it until even they start to believe the stories I create about them. You can’t do it just like that, and I’d rather you didn’t.”

Haechan would rather he didn’t either, he couldn’t be anyone else even if he tried. He could lie, sure, but to lie about himself would be a huge mistake. For one, he liked how he was. And also, his lies would be shattered as soon as someone peeked beneath the surface, they wouldn’t hold. He could say he loved coffee, but bring him a Starbucks drink and he’d start retching. 

“Relax, you’ll do fine,” Jaemin had said. “People love your bloopers videos as much as they love the performances. They like you, Haechan. And Dazed Korea wouldn’t dare mess up your image, it’ll be bad for them too. What you should be focusing on is hiding those lovely marks on your neck.”

Even through the webcam, nothing could escape Jaemin’s notice. A true journalist indeed.

“Hyuck, you sly bastard!” Chenle had nearly sang with too much excitement. “Who’s the lucky guy? When did this happen anyway?!”

“We’re not talking about it,” Haechan had said. 

Because there was nothing to talk about. He’d been drunk and stupid and so out of it that he hadn’t even thought to get a name, let alone a number. Lucky Guy was a stranger with an eyebrow piercing and pretty eyes, that was it. He doubted he’d recognize the man if he ever saw him again, and that was a sad thought. He’d really like to meet him again. Only to ask him his name if nothing else. 

Right now, Haechan had bigger problems. Jaemin had been right, Haechan needed to focus on hiding the hickeys. Because those had persisted, even after two days of Haechan constantly touching and massaging the spots. They did become lighter, a light touch of concealer corrections and nobody would know any better, but Haechan still worried. What if the stylists and makeup artists at the magazine shoot wanted him to remove his makeup to get a natural shot? 

His first magazine shoot and he’d be pictured with a splatter of hickeys. Great. Nothing more natural and ‘himself’ than that. His friends would be proud. 

Haechan took a cab and arrived at the site long before he was supposed to. He wished he’d had more than a banana for breakfast, especially since he’d skipped dinner to make sure his face didn’t look puffy in the morning. His mother would bite his head off if she found out, but the truth was that Haechan couldn’t stomach anything more right now. Banana was healthy, lots of Potassium. He just hoped that would give him enough energy to last till lunch, especially if he had to perform for the shoot. 

The email had also suggested him to bring his dancing gear, tights and pads, just in case the photographer wanted to take some artistic shots or if they wanted to film a performance for the magazine’s YouTube content. He’d packed his things in his gym bag and waited until he was sure at least some of the magazine staff were already there. 

The shoot was supposed to happen in an elaborate traditional Korean house, or a Hanok house. Elaborate wood furnishings and traditional Korean architecture. It must’ve cost a lot to rent this place, Haechan couldn’t help but feel nervous. He didn't want to make an ass of himself in front of people who had gone to the trouble of spending so much money just to get his photos and his answers to mildly interesting questions.

Once Haechan gave his name and identity, he was directly shown into the room where the stylists and makeup artists had set up station. There were too many clothes of too many styles, more than a few booths set up. Maybe Haechan wasn't the only one being photographed and interviewed today? Jaemin had given him a brief idea about how these things usually went, the magazine people would try to get as much content as possible in the shortest time. They probably rented the place for just a day, or maybe a few hours, so they wanted to make the most of this opportunity. 

“How about this? This look good?” the makeup artist asked, holding out her fist beside his face. 

It was then Haechan understood what Chenle had been talking about. Because the mixture of foundation on the back of the woman’s hand was at least three shades lighter than Haechan’s natural skin tone. And to think he’d been worried that these people would want him to remove the mild touch-up he’d done to hide the marks on his neck!

“No,” Haechan said nervously. “I’d like to go natural, if it’s okay?”

The woman just stared at him through the mirror for a while. She probably hadn’t expected that. Well, unfortunate for her, but Haechan would be damned before letting people whitewash him. 

The makeup artist went away for a while before coming back with another person, a woman in a casual suit with a pretty bob and a wide smile. 

“Hi! I’m Wendy, nice to meet you,” the suited woman said, extending her hand for a shake. “Ningning here was telling me about you not wanting to put makeup on…?”

“Oh, it’s not that,” Haechan said quickly, instinctively not wanting to displease Wendy. “I don’t mind makeup, I just don’t want...that. That’s a lot lighter than my skin tone.”

“Well, with all the dynamic lighting and considering how the editors touch-up the final photos, it’s easier to just apply a lighter complexion. It’ll make you look better.”

“I’d rather not,” Haechan said firmly with a smile. 

“If you’re sure?” Wendy asked again, waiting for him to change his mind. 

“I’m sure.”

“Well, then. Ningning, do what he’s comfortable with,” Wendy said, offering Haechan a wide smile before leaving. “I’ll see you at the shoot!”

“What about your moles?” Ningning asked. “Can I at least correct them?”

“No?” Haechan said sarcastically. 

“You’re definitely new to this.”

“Why? Do people usually let you turn them into whitewashed ghosts?”

“People, especially idols, would let me do anything to them as long as I make them look pretty,” Ningning said, getting started with his eye makeup. “The fans love unblemished white skin.”

“Well, I like to think my fans don’t care about the color of my skin,” Haechan muttered. “Or my moles.”

“If only everyone thought like that,” Ningning snorted.

By the time Haechan was dressed and ready in his ballet clothes, it was past ten in the morning, and his stomach was all but growling. Thankfully, there were too many people doing too many things and making too much noise for anyone to notice. The whole house was bustling with staff, they’d set up whole rooms with lights and huge umbrellas where the photos were likely gonna be taken.

“You didn’t have anything colorful?” The stylist asked. 

Haechan’s standard ballet uniform was stretchy tights, sleeveless muscle tees, and his well-worn ballet slippers. He mostly practiced bare-chested, but that seemed a bit too revealing to be in a magazine. He’d opted for all black since that was his favorite color, and he mostly only had black clothes. Plus, he’d thought that black would seem elegant, chic, worthy of being in a magazine. He only shrugged as the stylist, a forty-something year old woman, frowned at him. 

“Well, how about we throw in something less...dark?”

She shuffled through the racks of clothes, furs and jackets, pulling out items that looked hella uncomfortable. He was used to wearing clothes that were comfortable, mostly inexpensive, mostly sporty because he needed to be able to dance in them. The clothes hanging on the rack was anything but. Too elaborate, designer items that seemed highly inappropriate and more or less useless.

“I can’t dance wearing those,” Haechan said, wincing at a neon green jacket and a matching pair of shorts the stylist was holding up.

In the end, he had to settle for a white T-shirt, similar to the black one he’d been wearing, except with sleeves. The sleeves were rolled up but not quite so much that his underarm hair would be revealed. Haechan tried not to show that he was bothered, because it wasn’t unnatural or embarrassing to have body hair. But he was kinda pissed. How did famous people do this shit on a regular basis? He’d gone through a few of Dazed Korea issues of the past few months, just to get an idea of what to expect. If he’d known that his favorite movie stars and models had gone through these things, he wouldn’t have liked the photos all that much. Knowing what went on behind the scenes gave him a whole new perspective on fame and publicity, and it wasn’t nice. 

“How about this, around your waist?” The stylist held a faded purple chiffon scarf. “It’ll accentuate your beautiful figure more. Can you dance with this on?”

He could, if it was pinned properly. But he didn’t want to wear that. Because his eyes had caught a similar scarf with a rainbow print that he’d rather put on than the purple drab. 

“How about this one?” Haechan picked the scarf out, the colors shimmered when he noticed the whole piece was littered with colored sequins in a rainbow pattern. “You said you wanted something colorful. I’ll wear this.”

It was a personal fuck you to the stylist and all the homophobic asses out there. To the world, Haechan was just a talented ballet dancer with a huge following. He wasn’t out to the world and he didn’t find it necessary to point it out either. It was his business, why should he be obligated to tell anyone else about his preferences? He didn’t owe anyone that. And, he was somewhat irritated at the notion that once he did come out to the public, all anyone would think was ‘oh he does ballet, of course he’s gay’, that bothered him on so many levels. 

It wasn’t necessarily some well-guarded secret, though. He didn’t mind people knowing. In fact, he’d jokingly let slip too many hints on his channel, on the bloopers and behind-the-scenes videos that anyone with a brain would be able to figure him out. But he’d never been all that in-you-face straightforward. Now though, he was being featured on a popular magazine. He kinda wanted to be a bit more than subtle. Plus, Chenle and Jaemin did tell him to be himself. 

The stylist, to Haechan’s surprise, looked overjoyed. She even took extra care while pinning the colorful scarf to the t-shirt instead of his tights, worrying that the pins might rip the stretchy fabric. Haechan was grateful, because he knew how hard it was to save up for them. He had to pick up extra work at his part time job just to be able to afford an endless supply of tights. Those things got destroyed too easily and too quickly, and not in the fun way either.

Haechan didn’t like the photographer. Not because the guy was rude or anything, but because he was of no help. This was Haechan’s first time being in a magazine. This wasn’t like being on a poster or a brochure for IBA, nothing like posing for performance flyers during his evaluations at the Academy. He couldn’t just smile and give a thumbs-up and be done with it. From the pictures he’d seen of models, he knew the way he needed to pose, how his gaze should be and where he was supposed to look, but he still needed someone to tell him if he was doing things right. The photographer just kept flashing the camera this way and that as Haechan posed awkwardly, trying his best to look cool. On top of that, when the man did open his mouth, it was only to say–

“Maybe you should lose the shoes,” he said. “Bare feet would look more masculine.”

Haechan wanted to hit the man. If Renjun was in his place, he definitely would’ve thrown a few punches by now, maybe even walked out, calling the whole thing off, fuck the magazine. To think that these people were still stuck with the idea of masculine and feminine…Haechan sighed. He needed to power through and get it over with as quickly as possible. His empty stomach wasn’t helping his mood, if he started bitching, he’d have to say goodbye to fame for good. Who’d want to work with him if word got out that he treated people badly? The only articles about him would be slander pieces.

Haechan sighed and untied his ballet shoes. His feet weren’t his best features, of course, but he didn’t have an issue showing them. A ballet dancer’s feet were always scabbed and injured one way or another. He had put on fresh band-aids on his toes to hide the worst of it. It looked normal to him, any other dancer wouldn’t even bat an eye. His teachers at the Academy would say small injuries were a necessity for a good dancer. It didn’t even hurt, he could complete a full set with 32 spins right now if he wanted. But of course, everyone on set, especially the stylist started fretting.

“These are normal for a ballet dancer,” Haechan tried to explain, but the woman wouldn’t have any of it.

“At least let me make them elegant,” she insisted and didn’t take no for an answer.

Haechan ended up getting the band-aids hidden by white tape to match his t-shirt. And while she was at it, she even forced him to wear accessories, silver chains of different styles, too many rings on too many fingers, even a few fake earrings clipped on the shells of his ears. They changed his hairstyle too, Ningning threatening to dye or cut it if he didn’t cooperate.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like how he looked by the end of it. He did. He looked good and he had to admit it. He knew that if Ningning had her way with him, she might’ve made him look even better. But this was new to him, he wasn’t used to someone else altering him so much that he barely recognized himself. It didn’t feel real. And that unsettled him, because the whole point of agreeing to do this magazine coverage was to help him be out there, reach more audience, be portrayed for his authentic self. His authentic self didn’t have piercings and permed hair, maybe not even such a masculine vibe as the photographer wanted to capture.

Maybe this was what it meant to be in the spotlight? When it wasn’t you who was shining light on yourself, when you were getting exposure through other means, like a coverage on a popular magazine, maybe you needed to let go of your control over a lot of things. Haechan didn’t like it, but he forced himself to adapt. He wanted this, didn’t he? The rewards would be worth it, right? He could do this.

For the next hour, he pretended to know exactly what he was doing. With only Wendy cheering him on from the sidelines, Haechan didn’t try to copy the models he saw on magazine covers, he danced. That was what he knew best, and ballet, after all, was an art form. Self-expression in the form of carefully practiced movements. He basically treated the photoshoot as his warmup session, then he treated it as a class by Master Byun, carrying out the seven movements one after another - the plier (bending), etendre (stretching), relever (rising), sauter (jumping), tourner (turning), glisser (gliding), and elancer (darting). He moved constantly from 1st position to 5th after each rotation.

The room was large, lots of open space, lots of natural lighting. And by the looks of everyone around him, Haechan realized that these people had never had a ballerino at a photoshoot.

“Do you want me to do a routine?” Haechan asked Wendy, because she seemed to be the one in charge.

“Oh that would be brilliant!” Wendy said cheerfully.

He had brought his mixes, popular music tweaked here and there to fit perfectly with his own choreographies. He gave the staff his phone to play music of his choice. Lullaby by Woodz.

The routine for this song was originally a duet, Haechan had choreographed and performed it with Renjun before. Unfortunately he couldn’t bring Renjun here, but he did love the dance and the song, enough to make up the parts where they danced relying on each other. Plus, this routine had a lot of twirls and upward movements, perfect to do when wearing something like a skirt, or a scarf pinned at the waist.

Toe, toe, heel. Toe, toe, heel. Haechan moved with the rhythm of the guitar, spinning diagonally with one leg raised high above after every third set. He spun, keeping his hands in a claw form, making sure to loosen his fingers and wrist. Dynamic movements of the torso, while keeping his center grounded, clear body lines, most importantly, expressive expressions. The song was a confession, wanting to sing a lullaby to a loved one, hoping that everything will turn out alright. Doyoung had taught him how to use his whole body, even his facial expressions, to display the emotions of the singer without uttering a single word. Haechan made sure to follow each and every one of his advice.

The song was short, not too complicated. The jumps were supposed to be assisted, but since Renjun wasn’t here, Haechan had to settle for regular flips. He ended it with a combination of spins and a grand leap that was more of a show-off than skillful.

After he landed swiftly down, heel to knee, and bowed for a bit, mostly to catch his breath, he was surprised by the claps and cheers. He knew he’d be able to impress these people, but he hadn’t expected previous sentiments to flip so entirely. Even Ningning was near screaming like a fangirl, her resentment for not getting to do things her way all forgotten. Haechan laughed, half in embarrassment, half in relief. Finally, he felt more like himself. The clothes, the accessories, the makeup - none of it mattered really. As long as he was free to move how he wanted to, Haechan felt in control. 

That feeling, unfortunately, lasted for less than a minute. Because as soon as he was getting up, his eyes caught a familiar face in the crowd. He was wrong before, he’d recognize that face anywhere. The high cheekbones, the short blond hair, the pretty eyes. The eyebrow piercing was empty now, no metal ring there. But the broad shoulders were still the same in a tailored suit that fit the man perfectly. Haechan remembered all the butterflies that had run rampant in his belly Friday night at the club. Except this time, his stomach was empty, and his brain knew exactly which feelings and memories to dig up, because standing right there was the stranger he’d made out with.

Haechan noticed everything else too late. He was already tumbling forward when he realized that he’d stepped on the rainbow scarf in his haste to get up. The fabric tangled up between his feet, he heard the sound of it ripping, colorful sequins and beads flying everywhere. He barely had enough time to place his hands in front of him and preventing himself from kissing the fucking floor.

God fucking dammit! He had just succeeded in making himself look good, winning people over. But one look at a very familiar, very memorable face, and Haechan had turned into the clumsiest idiot ever. How much was this scarf? He didn’t even know if he could compensate the stylist for this mishap.

On top of everything, what the fuck was Lucky Guy doing here? Was Haechan hallucinating? Why else would he be seeing that man here? Why him of all people? Was this some sort of Freudian shit that Jeno was into - he’d probably say something like Haechan wanted approval and appreciation and his subconscious was making the one person he wanted to see the most appear and give him said appreciation and approval. Oh god, was Jeno’s mind-science shit finally getting to him? Was he really conjuring up Lucky Guy out of the blue now?

But why the suit?

When he was assisted by the staff into a sitting position, Haechan finally looked up. His breath caught in his throat. Because right there, closer than before, stood Lucky Guy, staring at him in surprise and maybe a little worried. People were talking to him, or more like, at him. Normal people couldn’t interact with your hallucinations, even Jeno couldn’t make shit up to explain that. Which meant this was really happening, Lucky guy was actually there. And Haechan had made a total ass out of himself. He wanted to really die of embarrassment now. Why didn’t the earth just swallow him whole?

Chapter Text

“–Haechan?”

“Huh, what?”

“Are you alright?” The editor, Miss Liah, asked. “We can stop for now if you want. The fall must’ve been–”

“No! No, that’s alright,” Haechan said quickly. “Just a little distracted…by the shutter sounds.”

It wasn’t a total lie. While he sat in a smaller room with the editor, going through the questions he’d been emailed, in the bigger room next to it the camera shutters went off in a continuous stream, the beep after each shot taken reminding him over and over again that he wasn’t the only one here for the August issue of Dazed Korea that was set to come out next month. It wasn’t exactly the shutter sounds that distracted him. It was the person who was being photographed now that was messing with his head. 

“We can move this interview to another room, away from all this buzz, if that’ll make you comfortable?” Miss Liah asked. 

“No, that’s quite alright,” Haechan said hurriedly. Why would he want to get away from here? 

Haechan could see a little of what was going on in the next room through the open door, slight glimpses of a figure in a blue suit sitting in a chair and posing with confidence and nonchalance. Of course that man would be good at this, he was probably used to it. Haechan should’ve known, with a face like that, of course Lucky Guy was some kind of celebrity. Haechan just lived under a rock and back at the club on Friday, he’d been too busy and stupid to put two and two together. Doyoung had taken them to that upscale club, so it was probably one of those places where his acting crowd frequented. Was Lucky Guy an actor then? 

After his embarrassing fall from grace, Haechan had apologized profusely to the stylist, Miss Jiang. Thankfully, the woman didn’t mind all that much about having that rainbow patterned designer scarf ripped to shreds, and everyone was still in a good mood after his performance, happy to get all that artistic flare on camera, that nobody gave him a hard time. As soon as he was assured that he wouldn’t be charged for anything, he excused himself and ran into the closest bathroom to ‘feel better’. His idea of feeling better was ranting to his friends in the group chat. 

“Lucky Guy is here!” Haechan texted because he didn’t want to disturb his friends with a call while they were working.

“What? Where?” Jaemin replied instantly. He was always seconds away from his phone, afraid of missing out on any news or tip that would help him make headlines. 

“Here! At the photoshoot/interview! I’M FREAKING OUT!”

“Calm the fuck down,” Renjun texted, probably taking a break from dance practice. “Explain in detail. What’s going on?”

“Stop trying to blow up my phone I’m trying to make a call,” Jeno texted, no regard for punctuation marks as usual. 

“What do you mean he’s there?” Jaemin asked. “He’s working for Dazed Korea?”

“He’s not a stalker is he?” Renjun asked. 

“He’s some kind of celebrity. Maybe. I don’t know! He’s here, he’s wearing an expensive suit and everyone’s treating him like he’s some big shot and I don’t know what the fuck to do!”

“Okay, wait. Calm down, breathe, please tell me you’re not freaking out right in front of him,” Jaemin texted. 

“No, I’m in the bathroom.”

“Good, at least you won’t embarrass yourself,” Renjun wrote. “Did he see you?”

Haechan debated whether he should tell his friends about the fall, how he’d already embarrassed himself as soon as he’d seen the blond man. For the sake of avoiding mindless arguing, he chose to keep mum about it for now. 

“Yeah he saw me. Recognized me too.”

“Well what did he say?”

“What do you mean what did he say?” Haechan furiously tapped a reply to Renjun’s text. “He said nothing! Neither of us said anything.”

“Go talk to him then!” Jaemin said. 

“There are too many people here. And we don’t know each other, how are we supposed to talk to each other?”

“Like normal people?” Jaemin added, sarcasm dripping through the screen. “Just walk up to him and say ‘hi, what’s up, remember me from Friday night?’”

“This is perfect! A perfect ‘Fancy meeting you here’ situation. You have to use this line!” Renjun wrote. 

“Stop fucking around. I’m really panicking here.”

“Look. You’re there for work. So is he. Why are you freaking out?” Jaemin said. 

Haechan had no idea why he was freaking out so bad, but he was. This wasn’t his first morning-after awkward encounter. Hell, this wasn’t even the morning-after! But he couldn’t even make himself look at those pretty eyes of Lucky Guy for too long.

“Jaemin’s right. Relax,” Renjun said. “So what if you guys made out? You’re both adults. If he pretends to not acknowledge it, act the same towards him.”

Sound advice. But all Haechan wanted was to call Doyoung and ask if he knew Lucky Guy. Maybe he could sneakily take a photo of the man and send it to the group chat for a better ID. Who knew? Maybe Jaemin would recognize the man, if he really was a famous celebrity. Jaemin seemed to know everyone famous. 

“What’s the guy’s name anyway?” Jaemin asked. 

It occurred to Haechan then that he still didn’t know Blondie’s name. Fucking hell, why was he acting like this? He was usually more confident sober than he was while drunk. But all his head could think about was what they’d been up to at the club and he felt lightheaded as if he was drunk again. 

Haechan decided to listen to his friends and calm down. Nothing was wrong here. He hadn’t done anything bad. He wasn’t too happy at the thought of getting momentarily involved with a celebrity, but that was all it had been - momentary involvement. Neither of them had to go through the embarrassment of thinking it was more than that.

It was ironic, because all he’d been thinking about these past two days, apart from worrying about the interview and his performance, was this man and their little high-intensity activities in the alcove. And now that he finally got his wish of meeting that guy again, he was hiding in a freaking bathroom. It didn’t get more pathetic than that. 

Well, here goes nothing, Haechan thought. He readied himself to face the world again. What was the worst that could happen? They’d acknowledge each other and talk, that wouldn’t be so bad. 

He regretted coming out as soon as his eyes laid on a bunch of people walking towards the bathroom, towards him. A bunch of people that didn’t matter because they were insignificant faces in the crowd, but not the face in the middle. Because it was Blondie, Lucky Guy with the pretty eyes, less dressed than before. He was walking and taking off the black pinstripe suit to exchange with a dark blue one, and Haechan was ashamed at himself for letting out the loud-ass gasp seeing that chest straining against the classic white shirt, which Haechan had apparently had against him just two nights ago. He was having a hard time remembering the facts with his brain barely functioning. 

He hastily pulled himself back inside the bathroom with a hand covering his mouth, closing the door a little too loudly, hoping to God that nobody had seen his face. He was about to panic-text his friends again when he noticed Jaemin’s unread messages.

“If you get too tongue tied, I can maybe call someone to see who’s being featured in next month’s issue besides you,” Jaemin had written a few minutes ago. “It’d be easier if you just pulled your head out of your ass and said hey. But since I am a very resourceful journalist with connections, I can find a name for you.”

“You mean you’re gonna snoop around because you wanna know if you can make a headline again?” Renjun wrote just then. 

“I’m feeling generous, take it or leave it. What say, Fullsun?” Jaemin asked. 

Jaemin was baiting him, but Haechan was already in too much distress to care about not seeming desperate.

“There’s a third guy, I think,” Haechan wrote, remembering the other person he’d noticed sitting in front of Ningning on his way to hide here. “Maybe a model, I dunno. Really tall. I think he’s also here for the photoshoot.”

“Interesting. Let me talk to some people, I’ll let you know.”

Haechan didn’t want to sit around waiting for Jaemin’s intel, because he knew his friend well enough to understand that Jaemin’s ‘I’ll let you know’ could occur at any time between only a few minutes to a couple of business days. He sighed. He knew he was being ridiculous, but for some reason, he was having a hard time dealing with this. Maybe it was because that guy was a celebrity? Haechan had steered clear of well-known personalities after that one bitter and fucked up incident with one of Doyoung’s former colleagues a few years back. Was this gonna be a repeat of last time? Haechan really hoped not. But hoping never got anyone anywhere, he was gonna have to make sure things didn’t turn out like before. And the best way to do that was to not let it go anywhere to begin with. Whatever happened at the club was gonna stay there, the end. 

“Haechan?” Wendy’s crooning voice came through the bathroom door, scaring the shit out of him. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Haechan said hastily, gathering himself and cracking the door open. “Sorry, just nerves. It’s my first time doing something like this.”

“Oh that’s quite alright,” Wendy smiled widely. “You did an amazing job with your dance! Everyone loved it! The editor wants to get started with your interview if you’re up for it? We’re on a tight schedule and all…”

“Of course, yeah, I feel better now,” Haechan nodded, stepping out of the bathroom and peeking around discreetly. “If I can just get some water?”

The editor hadn’t asked any impromptu questions, only the basics which Haechan already practiced his answers for. Only when it was over did he realize why. Apparently, there was going to be another session, after lunch…with the two other people who are also going to be interviewed individually first and then all of them would sit together at the end. 

“We did mention that our theme for the next month was ‘Rising Stars’,” Wendy explained as she led Haechan to the open area where lunch was set up. “Go ahead and help yourself. It’ll probably take a while before we’re done with Johnny’s photoshoot, so don’t worry about the next session. You did great.”

Was Johnny the Lucky Guy? He hadn’t seen him since sitting down for his interview. And the person getting his photos taken now was the tall guy. So maybe this was Johnny, which meant Haechan still didn’t know who the fuck he’d made out with. This felt like some cosmic joke. Was the universe trying to tell him something?

“Okay, but, why do we have to sit together?” Haechan asked, mostly out of curiosity, a little out of nervousness.

“Well, because you three caught the public eye, silly!” Wendy giggled. “You, more than the others, got viral almost overnight, sudden success and all that. Our magazine just wanted to get the first story out about you guys. You’re definitely gonna go to places, Miss Liah is never wrong about these things.” 

Haechan wished he had Wendy’s endless supply of cheer and glee. Or Miss Liah’s determined intuition. Unfortunately, he was too nervous to feel such joy or confidence. The only good things that happened today included his photos being already taken, his performance had been great, and Miss Jiang gave him permission to wear more comfortable clothes, he had gotten the lucky opportunity to pick from her rack of mostly uncomfortable items. He chose the first pair of soft pants his hands touched, and even the shirt she’d picked to match with it wasn’t so bad. Apart from that, Haechan didn’t know shit about where he was headed in the future.

Hunger won out and he started picking up whatever food that looked at least a little bit healthy. He didn’t want to mess up his diet, it made his body feel heavy and his movements became lazy. But since he’d skipped both dinner and breakfast, he let himself indulge a little in the fruit tarts and strawberry shortcakes.

“Hi,” a familiar said.

Haechan nearly dropped his tiny plate overflowing with food. He quickly glanced to his side, registering Blondie standing right beside him, and whipped his head around, looking at anything but the guy he’d kissed. What was he gonna do now? He couldn’t run away, that would be rude. And he didn’t wanna run away either. Wait, did the guy just say ‘hi’ to him?

“Hi, hi, hey,” Haechan babbled nervously, bobbing his head to the side and back again. Jaemin would be disappointed if he knew how embarrassing Haechan was at this moment.

“Listen, I’m–” the man beside him stopped abruptly, as if trying to pick and choose the right words. Was he nervous? “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be here–that you’re–”

“You need a plate!” Haechan interrupted him suddenly.

“What?” Confusion was a cute look on Blondie.

“Here’s a table full of food,” Haechan pointed out the obvious like an idiot. “It’ll seem weird if you’re just standing in front of it.”

Haechan regretted sneaking a sideways glance, because Blondie was staring at him, trying very hard to not smile, and failing. Haechan’s face heated with embarrassment. He heard a slip of giggles that the man tried to hide with a cough. He moved two steps away to grab himself a plate and had the audacity to raise it up to show Haechan.

“Plate,” Blondie said, not even trying to hide his smirk anymore. He extended a hand towards Haechan for a shake. “I didn’t get properly introduced to you…before.”

Haechan had a plate precariously holding an assortment of desserts in his left hand, his right hand had bits of crust and lemon marmalade stuck in his fingers from the tart he’d eaten. He couldn’t shake the man’s hand, but he needed to do something. He just didn’t know what devil compelled him to do a full-on bow.

Jesus, why didn’t God just strike him down with lightning? Oh wait, that was Zeus…Fucking hell, why was he like this?

“I didn’t know you’d be here either,” Haechan said quickly, stepping away and turning half-away from the man to hide his red face. “I’m Haechan. I didn’t get your name?”

“You–you don’t know who I am?” Blondie looked more surprised than confused this time.

Oh god, did that mean this man was really really famous? Like, more than Doyoung asshole ex-coworker? Why did Haechan always have to end up with these guys?

“You’re a famous…actor?” Haechan asked quietly.

The guy burst out laughing. Haechan just stared because what the fuck? No man should be given so many things. First, his appearance, then his…dancing skills, let’s call it that for now, and now even his laugh? Everything made Haechan like the guy more, he was attracted and he felt consciously attracted. This was dangerous.

“So you’re not famous?” Haechan said, more to distract himself.

“I–uh, yes, I guess,” the man said, still smiling, eyes sparkling. “I am. Just, haven’t had to tell people who I am for a while.”

Cocky much?

“Are you Johnny?” Haechan asked. 

“No,” Blondie said, biting his lip and trying to not laugh again.

“I’m Johnny!” Someone else said in a comical tone.

Haechan looked up in time to see the very tall man come up behind Mark and grab him by the shoulder in a very familiar gesture. Were they friends? Judging by the laugh they shared, it seemed like it. Haechan felt a little pathetic with his plate of lunch, he couldn’t even give Lucky Boy a handshake, and Johnny was there hanging off his shoulder like an older brother.

But then again, Haechan had had his tongue down Blondie’s throat. And the man had had his mouth around–

Haechan bowed a swift 90 degree while facing Johnny. He’d done the same with Lucky Guy, and his hands were still dirty or occupied for a handshake, so it’d seem weird if he didn’t show Johnny the same courtesy. When he straightened himself, both Johnny and Blondie were looking at him weirdly. Of course, now they both thought Haechan was pathetic, just what he needed.

“Well, I’m just gonna…go?” Haechan said slowly, not quite sure where his arms gestured. He just felt like he needed to remove himself before he did something even more embarrassing. 

He ended up sitting next to Ningning the makeup artist and Miss Jiang the stylist.

“What, club celebrity didn’t embrace you with open arms?” Ningning mocked.

“No! That’s not it!” Haechan didn’t know who he was defending, he just didn’t want to admit defeat to Ningning. “They seem like they’re already friends so I thought it best to leave them alone.”

“Uh huh,” Ningning scoffed, not believing Haechan at all. “You know this whole shoot is about you three, right?”

“Whatever,” Haechan shrugged.

“Well, I’m not surprised though,” Ningning said. “They’re from the same company, even though Johnny isn’t working to be an idol anymore. I’m glad he terminated his contract, man is too talented. But you know what they say about SM. They act like they’re elite shit. They wouldn’t even let me work on Mark, sent their own hairstylist and makeup artist.”

“Stylists too,” Miss Jiang added with a scowl. “They always bring their own clothes and stylists, as if I don’t have perfectly fine pieces in my collection. Snobs.”

SM? No. No way. SM was where Chenle worked. He was probably busy with work, that was why he hadn’t been active in the groupchat, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. But Chenle would definitely know both of the guys Haechan had to share the spotlight with today. Especially Mark since he was still under contract with SM–

Haechan choked on a piece of fruitcake.

“You alright?” Ningning said worriedly, quickly shoving an opened bottle of water towards him.

Miss Jiang tried to calm him down by patting his back, which didn’t help. Because the shirt she had picked for him had an open back. Miss Jiang’s leathery hands and cold rings only made Haechan squirm.

But holy fuck, he finally had a name.

“Who’s Mark?” Haechan asked quietly once he was sure he wasn’t going to die.

“What do you mean?” Ningning looked at him like he’d lost his wits. “He’s standing right there!”

“No!” Haechan said in a hushed voice, quickly grabbing a hold of her raised arm that was gesturing where Mark, the Blondie, the Lucky Guy, stood with Johnny. “I meant, who is he?”

“What? You don’t know who Mark Lee is?” Ningning laughed out loud. Then she stopped abruptly, realizing that it wasn’t a joke. “Oh, you’re serious. You really don’t know?”

During the entirety of the lunch break, Haechan found out exactly who Mark Lee was. He was glad neither Chenle nor Doyoung had been active during his freak-out earlier in the morning. Because now he just wanted to bury it all, forget anything ever happened and never bring up Lucky Guy a.k.a Mark fucking Lee ever again. He didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

Chapter Text

Sitting for an interview alone with Miss Liah and two cameras was one thing. Sitting with Johnny and Mark on both sides and having a dozen staff gawking at them behind the cameras while Miss Liah impromptu questions was an entirely different experience. One that gave him more anxiety than his first Swan Lake Deconstructed performance.

“Johnny, we know that you and Mark have been friends for a long time,” Miss Liah was saying. “But is this the first time you’re meeting or getting to know about Haechan? Or did you know him before?”

“No, honestly, this is the first time,” Johnny said with a charismatic smile. “But I wish I knew before. He seems like a great guy! And I was actually going through some of his videos during lunch with Mark, Haechan is really talented. We were blown away by some of his performances!”

Haechan didn’t know if he was blushing because of Johnny’s compliments or because of the fact that Mark had been watching his performances during lunch. Did he think the same as Johnny?

“What about you, Mark?” The editor asked.

“Yeah, I mean, Johnny and I still hang out sometimes when we’re both free. But this is the first time I’m meeting Haechan. He really is very talented,” Mark said, the lies casually rolling off his tongue.

Haechan felt a little disoriented. The way these two men held on to their charming and cheerful personas and pretended to tell the truth in front of so many people, on camera, was kind of scary. Haechan didn’t know what, if anything, they were saying was true. It was somewhat uncomfortable, and the only thing keeping him going was Wendy’s advice of always keeping a smile on his face. 

Jaemin and Chenle had warned him yesterday about making sure to give off positive vibes, not to say something that would be negatively used against him.

“You can’t really be 100 percent sure, some people will use even the most useless piece of information to make up shit and come after you,” Chenle had said. “But what you can do is be as likable as possible.”

“You’re already like that,” Jaemin had said. “Just don’t say anything too offensive or cringey.”

“Yes! Keep the cringe on the down-low!”

“I’m not cringey!” Haechan had protested.

And then he’d gone and bowed to Mark and Johnny. Haechan honestly had no excuse.

“And Haechan? Is this your first time getting to know these people?” Miss Jiang asked. “I overheard some of the staff saying you weren’t aware of who Mark Lee is!”

Haechan wanted to hide in that bathroom again. He was sure it wasn’t Ningning or Miss Jiang who had let that slip, because they were the ones who’d warned him about other people gossiping. But the fact that something like this would spread so quickly and become a topic of discussion, of interest enough that even the editor of Dazed Korea would want to ask on an official interview that was being recorded unsettled him. Jaemin had been right, these people wanted to spice up the interview, they were looking for anything that would generate more public interest, and what better way to do that than to stir up useless drama?

“You heard right,” Haechan said. The only thing nobody here expected him to do was own up to his own actions or appearance or words and that was the best way to handle things. “I was actually talking to some of the staff members at lunch about it, I didn’t know either of these guys, to be honest, and I felt really bad. But the truth is, I’m almost always out of the loop unless it is related to ballet. I’m also really bad at keeping up with celebrity culture.”

“But it’s Mark Lee! You must’ve heard of him before,” Miss Liah said, still fishing for something. “He’s been on the K-pop scene with his group MDC for almost eight years, everyone knows him. Even more so now that he’s finally making a solo comeback.”

“Like I said, I’m very bad at keeping up with popular things, celebrities,” Haechan forced a brighter smile, pretending to be adorably unaware. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard his music even.”

“You have, actually,” Mark said.

What? Haechan whipped his head to the side before he could stop himself because that was news to him! He couldn’t remember any songs by the artist Mark Lee or a boy group named MDC. And he usually remembers the music he liked. What was Mark playing at?

“You did a cover dance to one of our songs,” Mark explained. “With a friend.”

“Oh yeah! We saw that. ‘Sun and Moon’, right?” Johnny nodded, looking at Mark. Then he looked at the cameras, “It was really beautiful, you guys should all watch it!”

Haechan remembered ‘Sun and Moon’, only because he had been forced by Renjun to do it after a very bad time in Haechan’s life. They’d actually put more than their usual effort for that performance, customized costumes to fit the theme, adding elements of lyrical contemporary into their choreo, even filming twice, once during the day and once at night, because Jaemin wanted to do fancy edits. It had helped Haechan get over a bad breakup and he’d been grateful. 

But that performance video had been released nearly two years ago. It would’ve been buried under at least 50 other videos on their channel, not counting the bloopers and short reels. He doubted Mark and Johnny had gone through all that content during lunch, they couldn’t have, it’d take more than an hour or two. Did that mean they searched for it? One or more specific videos, dances to songs by Mark’s group? Just to bring it up during the interview?

“That was a few years ago, if I remember correctly,” Haechan smiled at Miss Liah. “I actually didn’t know whose song it was. My friend Renjun picked it and wanted to do a cover. He’s usually the one who picks the songs.”

“Ah, yes,” Miss Liah said, not sounding as excited as before. Probably disappointed that there wasn’t anything more to it. “You did mention the contributions of your friends. It’s similar to what Johnny said about his staff helping him make vlogs, and Mark has his teammates, of course.”

“Yeah, like I was saying before, it’s a group effort,” Johnny slid in smoothly. “People only think it’s just me since I’m the only one in front of the camera. But it’s not. A lot of the staff are my friends, they’ve become my family almost…”

Haechan stopped listening. He was trying not to think about his bare knees almost touching Mark’s leg as they sat pretty close together. Before sitting down for this session, the magazine crew wanted to take more pictures. Of all three of them together. Of course Haechan wasn’t prepared for that, but he had to comply.

For the ten minutes he had to pose in different postures wearing that cursed open-back shirt, Haechan could barely breathe. Because even though Johnny was nice enough to throw a hand over his shoulder in a friendly gesture, Mark had thought it perfectly fine to touch his bare skin, keeping his hand at the small of Haechan’s back the entire time. Haechan had even felt fingertips drumming against his spine at one instance, but he was willing to believe that had been his imagination. He wanted to give himself a treat just for holding up a smiling, cute, and charming façade all through that photoshoot.

Wasn’t Mark afraid? 

There were at least twenty people there with them, with half a dozen staff members swooping in like hawks between shots to fix their clothes and hair and makeup. What if any of them saw Mark’s hand on him? Wouldn’t rumors be flying around faster than air? Mark being a K-pop idol, he would be the worst of because netizens loved thinking they owned idols. Chenle had ranted to them more than a few times about cleaning up after idols, trying to make up lies to help them keep a clean image so the fans would love them. Without the support of the public, an idol wouldn’t survive in the K-pop scene. And that support was glass thin and so fragile that even a groundless rumor could ruin things beyond repair. Wasn’t Mark afraid someone would start up rumors about him with Haechan? After all, the K-pop scene wasn’t known to be all that tolerant.  

If only they knew what their favorite idol had been up to just last Friday!

The later outfits hadn’t been as bad, thank god. Haechan had purposely asked for non-revealing outfits and Miss Jiang was willing to humor him. He had accepted a pair of shorts because it came with a full-sleeved shirt with a high collar with frills. He’d thought that nobody was going to touch his legs below the knees anyway, he’d be safe. Apparently not. He hadn’t accounted for having to sit next to Mark. 

Mark sat like he wanted to take up as much space as Johnny, even though Johnny had a whole foot and at least twenty pounds of muscle on him. When Haechan was told to sit in the middle, because he was the shortest and it’d look like they were all friends since it was common knowledge Mark and Johnny were, he had to make himself as small as possible. Which went against his principle of always being comfortable. He wasn’t comfortable. He had to squeeze his ass as if he was in fifth position the whole time just so he wouldn’t be in direct contact with Mark’s body. Mark, for his part, decided to sit with his legs wide apart, as if waiting for someone to fall on his lap. Haechan had a rising suspicion that Mark was doing it on purpose. 

He knew he was definitely being stared at, he could feel Mark throwing glances at him, and Haechan wanted to smack him for being stupid. They were being recorded. Why was Mark looking at him like that?

“–Haechan?”

“Yes?”

He had completely missed what Miss Liah had said. Again. Fucking hell, he needed to get his head out of his ass.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Haechan said, his ears heating up in embarrassment.

“I was asking you about your future projects,” the editor said.

Haechan didn’t know about his future projects. Fame hadn’t exactly been a goal for him. He had a job - a ballet dancer at the IBA. He was sometimes hired as a lead or main dancer for theater performances, or for original productions by the Academy. Since he’d already graduated from the Academy with very decent recommendations, he worked as a part time instructor there along with Renjun and Jeno, teaching younger kids in the IBA pre-graduate program. It didn’t pay all that much, but he loved it.

His main source of regular income, he wasn’t embarrassed to admit, had been his job at a bakery. He’d been hired a week after getting into IBA and had been working there since. It had been hard work, getting up every day at the crack of dawn and racing to the store, starting each day with an array of baked goods he had to make from scratch and then hoping to god that he’d made enough by 8 am to not miss his classes. He didn’t have classes in the morning anymore, and with his YouTube channel blowing up, he didn’t have to take everyday shifts at the bakery anymore either. But he hadn’t been fired yet, apparently Mr. Oh and his customers really liked Haechan’s sweetbreads and cream tarts to this day.

There was no need for Haechan to think about the future with all this going on. He liked teaching at the Academy. He liked working on theater projects. He liked going to the bakery 3 or 4 times a week. And he liked making ballet cover dances with his friends. His life was going good. Why did he need to have future projects, as if there should constantly be a goal in front of him, dangling like a carrot, urging him to achieve bigger and better things? He didn’t want that. He was pretty happy with how things were now. 

But he couldn’t exactly say that to these people with Mark and Johnny being more famous than him and still moving forward to achieve more fame and fortune and followers. This whole article was named ‘Rising Stars’, for crying out loud, not a star risen and stationed there.

“I don’t really want to spoil the surprises too soon,” Haechan said tactically, trying to pretend like the rest of them. Lying. 

“Ah, that’s exciting! Keeping people waiting in eagerness,” Miss Liah laughed conspiratorially. Then she addressed all three of them. “Is there anything you’d like to say to your fans?” 

Haechan had to go through the embarrassment of watching Johnny and Mark talk directly to the camera, acting a little cute and surprisingly more sincere than they’d been with the editor. Haechan didn’t know what to say, so he settled for how he talked on his own channel.

“Hey guys, I’m very thankful for your love and support, I can’t explain how much it means. You guys literally brought me here, my friends and I are all very grateful. Stay safe, keep dancing, and I’ll see you again!”

He probably shouldn’t have ended it like it was another behind-the-scenes episode, but it was done. He would’ve acted goofy and cheeky if it were for his own channel, but here, with all these people, and Mark sitting too close with his stupidly addicting lemongrass and mint perfume, Haechan didn’t dare.

It took them until late afternoon to wrap everything up. Haechan received some gifts from Dazed Korea, a basket of muffins and trinkets wrapped in floral wrapper, and a small bouquet of flowers too. He didn’t have a manager like Mark and Johnny, they had come to the shoot with their own staff. Haechan had come alone, so he had to carry his gifts alone. Thankfully, he had the foresight to call in a cab early on. He didn’t have to wait and have people glance at him with pity.

Only after getting home did he dreadfully check his phone. Some divine entity was on his side because neither Doyoung nor Chenle had seen his freak-out texts. And Jaemin’s texts weren’t conclusive.

“Any news?” Renjun had sent about an hour ago. “Haechan? Jaemin? Come on, I’m dying of curiosity.”

“He’s just being dramatic guys,” Jeno had texted. “He’s just lying on the ground he’s fine.”

“Shut up,” Renjun had replied to him, even though they were probably in the same room.

“So I checked,” Jaemin had finally texted half an hour ago. “But my contact refused to share info. Apparently Dazed Korea is thinking of keeping mum about this because they’re featuring new artists. I told her I already know about Haechan, but still no luck.”

“Haechan, you can literally just ask who the other people are!” Renjun had written.

“Didn’t you hear any names? I mean, come on, their names must’ve at least come up!”

Haechan sat down on his bed biting his nails. He knew now about Mark and Johnny. But the problem was, Mark worked for Chenle’s company, and Johnny used to work there. Even though revealing Johnny’s identity wouldn’t be a big deal, telling them about Mark would be. Because he had stupidly told them about making out with Blondie, and told them about the other very tall guy. They wouldn’t mistakenly think he’d made out with Johnny. And that was a problem, because Chenle would have his head once he found out Haechan had made out with one of Chenle’s celebrities.

They all knew what shit Chenle had to deal with trying to hide exactly these kinds of things about SM idols from the tabloids. Haechan couldn’t do this to Chenle, he couldn’t be the reason his friend had to lie to the media about Mark being accused of false rumors.

And then there was Jaemin, a reporter, who wrote exactly about these kinds of things. If he found out the truth, his first headline would be something like ‘K-pop Idol with a Talented Mouth!’ or whatever.

In both scenarios, Mark would suffer. His fame and fanbase might just turn against him. 

If Haechan had known better, he wouldn’t have gone through with any of it. He wouldn’t have kissed Mark. He wouldn’t even have danced with the man, even though it hadn’t been a conscious decision on his part in the first place. Mark had been the one to come up behind him as far as he could remember. They’d both been drunk and a little out of it. It was clear that Mark hadn’t known who Haechan was at the time. But he’d probably thought Haechan had known him, that was why he’d been so surprised today when Haechan told him that he didn’t know Mark.

But that would mean Mark didn’t fear being found out. Was it some sort of open secret?

Haechan had to stop himself from looking up Mark Lee on the internet. Because it didn’t matter if Mark was out and accepted or whatever. Famous people were all the same, and nothing good ever came out from being involved with them. And Haechan couldn’t cause trouble for Chenle or Jaemin. And he definitely didn’t need Doyoung lecturing him. Haechan did know better now.

Well, mostly.

He had no excuse for listening to MDC songs while he made himself dinner. Maybe it was to find good music for their next cover dance? Yeah, why not go with that? Renjun really was the only one picking out the songs for them to cover for a while now. Haechan should contribute too.

He felt pathetic trying to convince himself that he wasn’t actively trying to pick out Mark’s voice from the rest of his group mates’.

He dared another glance at his socials before going to bed. None of his friends were active, thank god. He could sleep on his secrets for one more night.

Haechan only had his YouTube channel and his Instagram. His YouTube wasn’t entirely his, since his friends had access, and Jaemin and Chenle liked handling things like uploads and content management. His Instagram was completely his own though. It wasn’t even linked to his YouTube channel. Mostly because he hadn’t wanted to rearrange his entire album to fit Chenle’s idea of the perfect ballet dancer. Haechan didn’t want his friend to do PR for his IG handle. There were too many personal memories there, friends as well as family, some photos that weren’t for the public because they were too close to his heart, he didn’t want to have to change all that to make everything seem artistic and ‘for the public’, he liked things messy there.

It didn’t stop people from searching him up and sending him DMs though. Chenle had warned him to not check those, it was best to not get directly involved with fans since his Instagram was still a personal account. But out of curiosity Haechan couldn’t help reading those. He never accepted any, hell, he’d set restrictions so that nobody would be able to see whether he checked his texts or not, even banning problematic accounts from texting him altogether. But he still had to regularly deal with at least two dozen or so texts. 

He skimmed through them, all of them from fake accounts with weird names that sometimes made him laugh. He had once jokingly said that his left side was best in a bloopers video, pointing to his ass, two days later, he’d gotten a text from ‘haechansleftasscheek’ and laughed for a minute straight before falling off his chair.

One text now caught his eyes. It was too suspicious. ‘MarkedTwilight’ read the profile name. Suspicious because Twilight had been the name of the club Doyoung had taken them to for celebration. The club where Haechan had met Mark. Haechan clicked on the message request with his pulse jumping at his throat. It couldn’t be…could it? 

“You really don’t know me?” The text read. It’d been sent hours ago, while he’d still been at the Hanok house. “I mean, I’m not trying to sound egotistical. But like, MDC is pretty popular, even people who don’t like me know me.”

“Are you stupid?” Haechan typed and pressed send before he could stop himself.

The text was instantly seen and only then did he realize what an idiot he was being. This might not actually be Mark. This could be any number of people from the photoshoot today who had heard about him not knowing Mark, pretending to be Mark and trying to get dirt on Haechan. Just those three words that he sent just now could be taken out of context and used to spread rumors about him being rude. Jesus, why was this so paranoia inducing? Fame, or the fear of notoriety, was giving him more anxiety than when he had to worry about not being able to pay his bills.

But, nobody knew about Twilight, right? Nobody at the photoshoot could possibly know about it. Neither of them had even uttered the name, so there was no fear of being overheard. Then…?

“Hi,” a new text came in mockingly.

“Prove yourself,” Haechan wrote, lying down. 

He went to the profile just to see the actual account. It was a fake, or at least, a shell account. No photos, no posts, the app had tagged it as ‘New to Instagram’. Did Mark really just create a whole-ass shell account just to send him a text? Well, Haechan understood it, to some extent. Mark probably had an actual account with a huge following if his fame was truly that great. He couldn’t very well risk sending Haechan a text from that account. 

But how had he found Haechan anyway? Haechan’s profile name was a sprinkle of numbers and letters, his name without the vowels and his birthday. Mark would have to know that. Mark would have to go through at least a few of the very first vlogs to figure it out.

“How am I supposed to prove myself?” Read a new text.

“Tell me something nobody else would know,” Haechan wrote. Then he tried to figure what that could be, because he and Mark hadn’t interacted with each other all that much.

“I love the sounds you make.”

“God fucking dammit!” Haechan cursed aloud as his phone slipped from his grip and smacked him on the nose.

He definitely remembered the words, spoken in his ears like a secret Friday night. Nobody else would know this. Right? Haechan couldn’t let go of the doubt, the paranoia was hard to wipe out entirely.

“I’ve heard that one before, it doesn’t prove anything,” Haechan wrote.

No response came from the other end for a while. Haechan sat in his bed, biting the corner of his thumb nervously. He couldn’t even lie down now, let alone sleep. Was this really Mark? Why was Mark texting him like this? Well, of course, because they didn’t have each other’s numbers. And he was sure Mark wouldn’t risk texting or talking to Haechan on the phone. But, why contact him at all? Especially now? Why keep at it?

A picture came up in the texts. It was definitely Mark. But a very different Mark. Mark with his hair frizzled and all over the place, wearing a pair of thick framed round glasses, one eyebrow raised high in a questioning glare, one hand holding his chin. The picture was dark, possibly because there was no light turned on in the room, but it was definitely Mark.

Haechan stared for far longer than he wanted to admit. Which was probably why another photo came through. This one was much the same, except Mark’s hand was in a gesture as if he was asking Haechan what more he wanted as proof. Another photo came, this time Mark was pointing a finger directly at the camera. Directly at Haechan. Haechan couldn’t help but laugh at Mark’s weird expressions.

“Photos can be found on the internet,” Haechan wrote. “You’re pretty famous after all.”

“There’s really no convincing you, is there?” Mark wrote. “Fine, tell me to do a gesture, be creative, I’ll prove my identity.”

Haechan wrote whatever came to mind. “Put two fingers up your nose, look at the tip of your nose until you go cross-eyes, put your tongue out on one side and show your teeth.”

A photo came. Haechan didn’t know if he should laugh or not, he was stunned.

“It’s not easy to do all that from a front angle,” Mark wrote afterward. His photo was taken from the side. “Do you believe me now?”

“This could ruin your idol image,” Haechan wrote.

“I trust you.”

“I could be a fake account! I could be after your fame!” Haechan typed furiously. He didn’t understand how someone like Mark could be this careless. No wonder Chenle always had a hard time cleaning up after SM idols. “How could you be sure I was me? You can’t even see my profile, all my posts are restricted! What if I was a fan account?”

“You have fan accounts?”

It took Haechan a few seconds to realize Mark was being sarcastic. When he didn’t respond Mark kept texting.

“Sorry, that was…anyway. It was a bit funny though, you have to admit,” Mark wrote. “And I saw your videos. I was pretty sure about your account. And…”

Haechan waited. And…what?

“I seem to be very impulsive when it comes to you.”

Haechan stared at the words. It was a loaded statement. It didn’t just mean now, it covered Friday too. He’d been impulsive even then, knowing that he was a well-known idol, doing what he’d done, thinking Haechan knew him, and he’d still gone through with it anyway.

“I really didn’t know you,” Haechan wrote. “But you thought I did. Weren’t you afraid of it getting out? I’m not too familiar with idol culture, but I’m pretty sure it’s not exactly all that non-hetero.”

“Like I said, I get impulsive when it’s you,” Mark wrote. “And it was Twilight, it’s a rule that nobody talks about what goes on there. Didn’t you know that?”

Haechan hadn’t known that. But now that he thought about it, it made sense. Of course it was a place like that. Why else would Doyoung take them there? Why else would he speak so highly of an ordinary club? Because it wasn’t ordinary. Because it was probably the place where he regularly met with his secret boyfriend without getting in trouble, without anyone knowing.

No wonder Mark hadn’t thought twice about going down on him, he had the luxury of being impulsive there.

But that meant nothing, Haechan reminded himself. He was supposed to leave it behind. He didn’t know what Mark wanted, what he planned to gain through this conversation. But Haechan didn’t need to know, he just had to make sure Mark knew that it wasn’t gonna go anywhere. He needed to nip things at the bud, leave no chances of anything like what had happened between them days ago. Or today, when Mark had purposely let his hand linger, sat a little too close, reached out. This couldn’t go on, it wouldn’t work out anyway. Haechan knew that very well from past experience. He was about to type a whole paragraph about it all Mark sent him a text.

“Well, I gotta go to bed, got recording early in the morning. Good night, Haechan. Sweet dreams.”

Just like that, Haechan couldn’t do it. He couldn’t write his paragraph, he didn’t want to. When was the last time someone completely at random wished him sweet dreams?

Chapter Text

Haechan hated putting things off. Because whenever he did that, sooner or later it all caught up to him, like now, and he had to scramble out of bed at four in the freaking morning.

Working at the bakery was not his favorite, but it was healing. He liked baking. And the job had saved him, literally. During the four years he studied at the Academy, he didn’t need to pay for tuition, thank god. But everything else had to come out of his own pocket. Living, food, clothes, ballet shoes, band aids and doctor’s appointments for every time he sprained an ankle. He used to share a tiny two bedroom flat with Jeno, Doyoung, and Renjun at the time, which helped a little, but it was still too much expense for his parents, especially since they had to pay for Haechan’s younger siblings’ schooling too.

Getting a job wasn’t easy when you had to be present in classes from 8 am to 5 pm, and then became too tired to even move. Plus, he couldn’t just work at nights either, because most nights were spent sitting at rehearsals for Academy productions, everyone wanted to get casted, and there never seemed to be a shortage of accidents. Getting picked as a replacement could get you into the spotlight quicker than 4 years of training could, nobody wanted to give it up. 

The only time Haechan had to spare was at the crack of dawn, before classes started, after mostly enough time to sleep and rest. He’d gotten lucky too, seeing the poster for ‘Help Wanted!’ as soon as it was put up, and the fact that his mom had taught him everything about cooking and baking. One careful batch of cream puffs later, he was hired by Junmyeon at his Love Bakery. The timing was perfect too. All Haechan had to do was be at the store by 5 am, bake 18 batches of at least 5 types of desserts and 7 types of breads, and finish before 8 am. The IBA was merely 5 minutes away from the bakery, so that worked out well too. 

“Haechan! I was expecting you yesterday,” Junmyeon said when Haechan walked into the store a little before 5.

It never surprised Haechan now that Junmyeon was always there earlier than him. But that was because Junmyeon lived on the floor above, and this was his precious store, he loved cleaning up everything and making sure things were in order before opening the shop. There were two other employees who worked for the man, but Haechan hardly ever saw them, they were servers, coming in long after Haechan was finished.

“I had the interview yesterday, remember?” Haechan said, putting on an apron and getting to work. “Honestly, old man, how do you keep running this store with a memory like that?”

“Hey! Who you calling an old man, you punk? I’m barely ten years older than you!”

It was good to know things didn’t change. Haechan liked their dynamic, bickering and jabbing fun at each other. Junmyeon was a great boss. He couldn’t bake for shit, but he had a big heart. And even though he didn’t quite approve of Haechan’s lifestyle, constantly pushing himself to the breaking point, Junmyeon always encouraged him, with little treats like a free box of macarons or a share of tips and early bonuses. It was probably why, even now after graduation and becoming mildly famous because of his YouTube channel, Haechan didn’t want to quit.

“And you still can’t operate your own ovens,” Haechan mocked.

“Well, I have you,” Junmyeon said. “What do you think I pay you for?”

“My charming personality?”

“You have one?”

Haechan couldn’t help but laugh. Junmyeon had a weird sense of humor and so did Haechan. It worked between them.

“I’m a half famous ballerino and I’m making cinnamon rolls,” Haechan said, rolling out the freshly kneaded dough and sprinkling a generous amount of cinnamon on it. “What would my instructors say if they saw me now?”

“What does it matter what old men in tights say?”

Haechan snorted. Junmyeon was right, what did it matter what his teachers said? The ballet world had become too competitive, simply doing the moves wasn't enough anymore. A clean split in the air didn’t get you an applause anymore, you had to go further, bend yourself backwards until you could do what nobody else could and then you’d get some compliments. It wasn’t about the art form or the dances anymore, technicalities, hyper-flexibility - these were the things that were sought after now. And Haechan had seen too many of his seniors break themselves trying to meet such unnatural demand for talent. Doyoung was a prime example.

Doyoung had been two years Haechan’s senior at the Academy, and he’d been an amazing dancer. But everyone in his class had been an amazing dancer, it didn’t get him a better grade or a better roll in a theater performance. It wasn’t enough being an amazing dancer to get the spotlight he deserved. So of course Doyoung pushed himself harder. Haechan would never forget the day of Doyoung’s Nutcracker performance. He hadn’t been casted as Nutcracker, no, he’d been one of the minor characters, one among a set of three. And he needed to shine brighter, critics were present. Doyoung’s leaps that day were magnificent, Haechan had stared mesmerized in the crowd watching him soar, almost suspended in air. But one miscalculated landing had sent Doyoung sprawling.

Haechan had gone to the hospital with Doyoung and their friends. He’d seen the pain and the horrors of what ballet could do to a dancer’s body if you pushed too hard. It was probably on that day, while sitting at the waiting room as Doyoung had gone through an operation, that they’d all decided never to go that far.

“Your body is the most important thing,” Renjun had said. “We have to remember this, alright?”

Haechan and Jeno had nodded in a daze. It didn’t matter how many times their instructor told them to push harder after that, they had set their own limits and they’d abided by them. 

Doyoung hadn’t danced after that. It took him half a year to be able to walk properly. Afterward, he tried for a role in a drama and got it and never looked back. Of course he still loved ballet, he loved directing choreographies for Haechan’s channel, but he didn’t dance. Which was just as well because Doyoung was now a full-time actor and Haechan couldn’t be happier for the guy.

“Do you need me to prepare batter and dough for the cupcakes and cream puffs?” Haechan asked.

“No, Kun said he’ll come by later, he’ll do whatever he wants.”

Kun had been Haechan’s substitute at first, when Haechan couldn’t prepare enough things all at once. Kun was a student at the university and he had plenty of free time in the afternoon to come by and bake fresh batches of sweets and breads. Now that Haechan couldn’t come in everyday at dawn, Kun probably took up this shift as well. Haechan was just glad Junmyeon didn’t try making anything on his own.

Haechan didn’t have 8 am classes anymore, but he did have rehearsals for a show he’d put off because of his interview. He had to run back to the Academy to make sure he was there on time. This was exactly why he didn’t like it when things caught up to him. 

“You’re late,” Jeno said.

“Oh fuck off, I had work,” Haechan said in between breaths.

“At least you’re earlier than Renjun,” Jeno said.

Haechan had run like his life depended on it just to get here before Renjun. The man was shorter than all of them, but he had the worst temper. Only once had Haechan been late to a practice before and never again. Renjun could make people cry. Especially when it was something important to him. And this show, this original theater production was really really important to Renjun because he’d been casted as the main character.

“So, how’d the interview go?” Jeno asked as they stretched and warmed up.

Haechan was dreading this. He was hoping they could get directly started on practice instead of bringing up the Dazed Korea interview and Mark. But of course, with his friends being nosy as fuck, and him basically screaming and panicking yesterday on the group chat, interest was bound to peak.

“It was good,” Haechan shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “Better than I’d hoped.”

“And what about that guy?”

“What guy?” Renjun asked, choosing to walk into the room at that moment.

Haechan decided to focus too intently on his quads, stretching this way and that, pretending not to hear anyone. He hadn’t decided what to tell them yet. Because he knew what they’d say. And Haechan would probably agree. But the fact was, he didn’t want to agree. 

When Doyoung landed his second role in a young adult drama, he’d become friends with his colleagues, so much so that they’d all hung out together a few times. Karina, Jaehyun, Taeyong were all really nice, they were still friends with Haechan and the rest. But then there had been Eunseok, charming and handsome Eunseok, who had instantly melted Haechan’s heart and hung out with him more than the others. Falling in love with that guy had been easy and inevitable. And everybody approved, Haechan’s friends really liked him too. It almost felt perfect. 

Almost.

Three months into the relationship, Haechan started to realize something was wrong. They only hung out when other friends, specifically Doyoung was with them. Eunseok had this terrible way of making Haechan feel guilty about wanting to spend time together by bringing up his career, his need to memorize lines and go through scripts for work. When it was obvious that Eunseok was doing it on purpose, going out drinking with Doyoung and their colleagues and not telling Haechan, on Haechan’s fucking birthday, not even sending him a happy birthday text even when Doyoung did, Haechan had to bring it up.

“It was a work thing!” Eunseok had said. “You can’t expect me to leave everything to be with you, Haechan! I have my own career. This is my first role, I need to make sure I’m a good colleague, not just a good actor. Staff were there too! You can ask Doyoung.”

Haechan had asked Doyoung, and Doyoung had given him a very honest account of how Eunseok was trying to come onto him and making it seem like he’d been too drunk and careless. Doyoung had been brutal, but Haechan needed that, he needed the cold-hard truth to confront Eunseok.

“You don’t want to date me,” Haechan had said. “You don’t even like me. You want to date Doyoung. That’s why you pretend to like me, so you can hang out with us when Doyoung does. That’s why you don’t even remember my birthday.”

“Shit, look, Haechan, you know that’s not right! Of course I like you. I’ve just been really stressed out lately and…”

Eunseok really wasn’t a good actor. He’d been anything but convincing with his lackluster apology, pretending to be remorseful and pathetic. But it had worked. It had worked because Haechan had been stupidly in love and he had wanted to believe Eunseok and it had been his birthday for crying out loud.

Of course, things didn’t work out. It only got worse with time. Their last argument was the worst. Haechan’s friends had to sit Haechan down to point out everything that was wrong with the relationship, and when Haechan decided to finally talk to Eunseok, the man didn’t even bother defending himself.

“I’m becoming popular, Haechan,” Eunseok had said. “You know, my agency told me not to get into any dating scandals? They told me to keep a clean record!”

“Then why didn’t you just break up with me?” Haechan had asked. “Why act like we’re together when you don’t even wanna be seen with me alone in public?”

“Because I didn’t wanna hurt you!”

Haechan had wanted to punch him right then. Knock his teeth in. Put a dent on his perfect face so that he’d be fired from the drama. But of course, Haechan couldn’t do that. He wasn’t an evil person.

“So what? You would’ve kept on pretending to date me if I hadn’t confronted you?” Haechan had asked instead.

“Can you really imagine what the media would do to me if they found out I was dating a guy?” Eunseok had said instead. “We’re good together, Haechan. But we can’t just be together. You can’t ask me to put my career in jeopardy like that!”

It had always been about his career. His image. His everything. 

“You should’ve thought about that before trying to kiss Doyoung,” Haechan had said, not even angry anymore. “You sometimes forget that Jaemin is an actual reporter. One word to him and this career of yours is gone.”

Eunseok had been scared then. He’d never paid attention to anyone but Doyoung while all them hung out together, of course he didn’t remember Jaemin or what Jaemin could do to ruin him. Even a false report would be enough to cast a doubtful light on a new actor. Rising star, my ass, Haechan had thought. Eunseok wouldn’t ever get casted if a news article told everyone how Eunseok had nearly molested Kim Doyoung, who had already become a well-loved actor.

“Relax, I won’t say anything,” Haechan had said. “If you promise something.”

“What do you want?” Eunseok’s whole demeanor had changed then. He no longer needed to act the part of a boyfriend, an apologetic lover who’d never wanted to hurt Haechan. He was now the real Eunseok, ready to do almost anything to save his own skin and get what he wanted. 

“Don’t ever talk to me, or call me, or pretend like you know me. Don’t even utter my name. You’re good at acting, so act like this had never happened. Delete all the posts, all those photos where you hung out with ‘Doyoung and his friends’ on Instagram, delete all the texts too,” Haechan had said. “And do the same for Doyoung. No more contact with him, no more pretending that you want to be his friend.”

“You can’t ask me to do that! We work together–”

“Jaemin is Doyoung’s friend too,” Haechan had said calmly. “I don’t care that you work together. You ever make Doyoung uncomfortable again and I will have your face all over the tabloids with personal accounts of how you liked to sexually harass your ‘friends’ and colleagues.”

Haechan had vowed to never date anyone famous after that. Or even look at anyone famous with a romantic interest. Mark had just somehow slipped past his guard.

“So what happened?” Renjun asked now. “Did you really not get any names? Come on, someone had to call them up for something! What about the interview? Didn’t they sit for it too? You must’ve heard something!”

“Let’s just forget about it,” Haechan said. He could feel his friends stare at him. “I mean, if he’s being interviewed by Dazed Korea, he must be someone famous, right? So like, why bother?”

Nobody could argue with him on that. After all the drama with Eunseok, of course nobody wanted a repeat.

“I mean, sure,” Renjun shrugged. “I still wanna know who he was though.”

“Who is who?” Someone asked, walking in. Winter. She’d agreed to help Haechan practice too, mostly because they’d be acting as partners. “Who are you talking about?”

“No one,” Haechan said. “Let’s just get started. I can’t believe I have to learn everything in one day!”

“You can thank Jungseob for twisting his ankle yesterday,” Winter said, stretching. “The idiot decided playing soccer was the best thing to do one day before the show!”

“So. Tell me about yourself!”   

Haechan stared at the text. He’d thought that if he didn’t say anything more, if he didn’t show any more interest, Mark would stop texting him too. Because there was no reason for either of them to continue this. But for some reason, not replying to Mark’s late night texts hadn’t discouraged him. On the contrary, Mark had taken it upon himself to find out everything he could about Haechan straight from the horse’s mouth through a fake Instagram account because why not?

“There’s not much about you on the internet,” Mark had written. “Your videos are pretty cool, but you don’t talk much about your personal life.”

“What do you do for fun?”

“How long have you been dancing ballet?”

“Do you do videos on YouTube full time now?”

“What are you doing right now?”

Haechan nearly choked on the tuna salad he had ordered. He’d thought to check some of the comments on his latest video to cheer himself up during lunch break. How he’d ended up on Instagram, checking Mark’s texts, was beyond him. How he’d thought he could keep a straight face when Mark was involved and his friends were right there was beyond him too.

“You alright?” Renjun asked, worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Did someone say something bad in the comments again?” Jeno asked, bringing up YouTube on his own phone to check.

“Why would it matter what people said in the comments?” Winter said, her round cheeks full of club sandwich. “As long as they comment, your videos get higher reach, right?”

“Haechan’s still a bit unused to bad comments,” Jeno explained.

“Must be nice to be guy,” Winter sighed mockingly. “I posted one photo with a pair of shorts on, doing an upright split, and people didn’t shy away from letting me know about their thoughts. You’d be horrified at some of the things they said.”

“People are disgusting!” Renjun said, angrily biting into his own sandwich.

“Did you take your photo down?” Haechan asked out of curiosity.

“Of course not. I reported all of those accounts.”

Haechan laughed, he liked Winter. Everybody mistook her chubby cheeks and cute bob for her being too shy and cute. But very few people knew that she had a black belt and knew how to use a katana. She could be very scary when she wanted to be, but she mostly kept her temper a secret. 

“Nobody needs to know that I can break their nose,” Winter had once said. “They just need to think I’m pretty and that I’m a talented dancer.”

She really was a talented dancer. Haechan wanted to do a dance cover with her, had asked her too many times already. Winter had always refused. Haechan didn’t know why, maybe if he kept pestering her, she’d agree at some point.

“I don’t see anything bad,” Jeno said. “They’re actually still pretty hyped. We should do another Exo song for our next cover, I like their music.”

Haechan wanted to agree, but then another text from Mark buzzed and he lost his train of thought.

“Are you free tonight?”

Haechan excused himself to go to the bathroom. He needed to calm down before replying, mostly because he didn’t know what to say to Mark. He didn’t want to be rude. But he also didn’t want Mark to get the wrong idea about this whole thing.

“Why are you texting me?” Haechan wrote.

“Because I want to talk to you?”

Why?! 

Haechan wanted to scream. So what if they’d hooked up at some club one night? It didn’t mean anything big, not really. It wasn’t enough for Mark to be acting like he was interested in Haechan. In fact, Haechan would rather if Mark didn’t show any interest at all. Because Haechan had a sneaking suspicion that if Mark continued like this, he’d cave, he’d make the same mistakes as before, because truth be told, he kinda liked Mark. Yes, alright, maybe Haechan had stayed up late trying to know more about Mark from fan made videos and online articles. Fine, he admitted it. It wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but he’d done it. And now he knew about Mark being a sweet Canadian boy who’d worked to become an idol since he was 15 and who loved watermelon and couldn’t eat ice-cream without it almost being dropped and who giggled like crazy when he was with Johnny. And dammit, Haechan had felt a little giddy and happy watching those videos.

This was dangerous.

“Didn’t you say you had recording or whatever?” Haechan wrote. “Aren’t you busy?”

“I did, I’m done recording. I’m having lunch now, not busy. Are you busy?”

Eunseok had never cared if Haechan had been busy or not, he’d never really texted Haechan much at all. He couldn’t help but involuntarily compare, even though Eunseok had been in a relationship with him and Mark was in no such position right now. Why was he comparing?

“I’m not busy, lunch break. But I will be soon.”

“Oh! Are you working on another dance cover?”

“No,” Haechan wrote. And then, for some reason, he typed more. “I was casted for a role last minute. A sort of theater performance. It’s tonight, so I have to learn the entire direction, like, the script, before evening.”

“That sounds pretty stressful,” Mark wrote. “Isn’t it difficult to learn an entire performance in less than a day? I once had to learn two whole dance routines in one day, and I kept messing it up until the last moment, my head felt like exploding trying to associate different moves with the different songs. How are you holding up?”

Dammit if it didn’t make Haechan’s heart flutter a little. Nobody ever worried about him. His friends all knew the struggles of ballet and last minute performance rehearsals, so he never got any sympathy from them. Jaemin and Chenle were always encouraging, but they didn’t really know exactly how physically difficult and challenging this was. But Mark knew. He was an idol, a dancer and a singer and a rapper. A performer. Haechan didn’t know how difficult it was to sing and dance at the same time, but Mark knew how difficult it was to push your body till your last remaining strength. He could relate because he knew the struggles. And that acknowledgement made Haechan want to rant out his frustrations a little. If only to get a bit more sympathy.

“I’m fine. My feet hurt a bit, but it’s nothing new,” Haechan wrote. He wanted to smack himself afterwards. “It’ll be over tonight so it’s not a big deal.”

“What’s the performance about?” Mark asked after a pause.

“It’s called ‘The Seraphim’. From what Renjun told me, it’s about angels, one of them falling down or coming down to earth and everyone on earth falling in love with him. Then the other angels come down to take him up to the heavens again. It’s all very dramatic.”

“Are you playing the angel who comes down to earth?”

“No. That’s Renjun. I’m only playing one of the mortals on earth.”

“Renjun’s your friend, right? I think I saw him in a few of your videos.”

Just how many of his videos had Mark watched? Haechan wanted to ask, but stopped himself. He didn’t need to know that, it was better if he didn’t know that. Because then it would mean that Mark was interested, that Mark voluntarily clicked on his videos to watch them, that he had even liked those videos. Haechan didn’t need to know that. Nope.

“I have dress rehearsals after lunch,” Haechan wrote. “I have to go.”

“Wait!” Mark sent, stopping Haechan from clicking out of the app. “Where will you perform?”

“The White Hall Theater. Why?”

“Nothing. Just curious. I didn’t know where ballet performances are held. I just saw them on YouTube. I didn’t know there were theaters.”

“There are a few, and it’s normal. It’s not specifically for ballet. Classical music concerts and performances are held here too.”

“Alright then, good luck! Do your best!”

Haechan turned off his phone as soon as he realized he was smiling. No, he didn’t need to smile at Mark’s cheesy texts giving him motivation. He needed to be worried about dress rehearsals and the actual performance later in the evening.

The performance went well, better than Haechan had expected actually. He didn’t forget his role and Winter had given him perfect hints before every lift and twirl. They all worked well together. And the star of the show, Renjun, mesmerized everyone. He really was perfect for the role of an angel making everyone on heaven and earth falling in love with him. The guy had even dyed his hair silver to pull of his role like a professional, it suited him. The huge bouquets of tulips and yellow roses he received were well deserved.

“These are for you,” one of the backstage staff said after closing curtains, handing Haechan a huge bouquet of red roses.

“What?” Haechan asked, dumbfounded, even as he reached out to take the flowers.

“Oh my god!” Winter shrieked in giddy joy. “Who are you dating and where can I get one of them?”

“What? You’re dating?” Jeno asked, puzzled.

“No! No, I’m not dating anyone,” Haechan said quickly, eyeing Jeno meaningfully. 

“Well, then who’s your secret admirer? Let me see!” Winter said, diving in to find a greeting card or a note.

Haechan was almost afraid. He didn’t like surprises like this, because too many times it was some creepy person stalking a dancer and acting like their significant other, when in reality, they weren’t even friends. He didn’t wanna deal with a creep like that. He’d rather not be stalked and obsessed over. Having a YouTube channel was stressful enough with all the comments that seemed a little too intimate coming from strangers on the internet. Having someone send him flowers in real life? Haechan tried not to think bad thoughts.

“It doesn’t have a name,” Winter said, holding up a small note.

“What does it say?” Jeno asked.

“‘You looked like one of the angels.’ Huh?” Winter looked confused for a second before she understood what it meant and started swooning. “Awww!!!! Someone really likes you, Hyuckie!”

“No, shut up,” Haechan grumbled, snatching the note and hobbling with his bouquet of roses towards the dressing room before Renjun noticed him.

It didn’t mean what he thought it meant, Haechan chanted in his head. It didn’t mean that. Please, no. When he finally set the flowers down, he opened the note to read the words for himself. It did say what Winter had read. And it was handwritten. Scrawled messily as if in haste.

Haechan pulled out his phone hurriedly, checking his texts. He needed to be sure. There were no new messages, but his heart hammered as he opened up his inbox.

“Did you send them?” Haechan sent to Mark. He wasn’t sure, so he chose not to mention the flowers. What if Mark didn’t send them? Haechan didn’t want to make an ass of himself by guessing wrong.

“Send what?” Mark replied.

Okay, so Mark hadn’t sent them. Great. Well, no, not great. Now it meant some creep had sent the roses and Haechan had to throw them away. But, like, what had he been thinking? The note was vague and not conclusive at all. Someone probably saw him in the role of a mortal human and thought he looked pretty. Whatever. As long as it wasn’t from Mark. And that was crazy anyway. Why would Mark send him flowers? How would Mark even know where or when to send him flowers? With a handwritten note at that! Of course it wasn’t–

“You mean the flowers?” Mark’s new text popped up. “You got them? Oh thank god! They wouldn’t let outsiders backstage. I had to get someone else to deliver them. I’m glad you got them!”

Oh no. No, no, no.

“You were here?” Haechan typed, his hands shaking.

“Yeah. I was free, and I wanted to see you perform. Johnny was with me too, he was super excited to see an actual ballet production.”

“Did anybody see you?” Haechan asked.

“I don’t know. Probably not. We had our masks on and everything,” Mark wrote. “Why?”

“Because you’re famous!” Haechan typed furiously. “You can’t come here at one of my performances! What if people saw you? They’d start talking, making up rumors about you and me! I don’t think you want rumors about you and me floating around. Don’t you have an album coming up or something? And we just had the Dazed Korea photoshoot together. You can’t be seen near me, let alone with me. You shouldn’t be sending me flowers either!”

“You don’t like the flowers?” Mark wrote after a long pause.

“It’s not about the flowers!” Haechan sent. He tried to calm down because the dressing room was starting to fill up with people.

“Why are you so worried about rumors?” Mark wrote. “Are you afraid you’ll be called names? I didn’t think you’d be one to shy away from this what with all the hints from your videos.”

“Of course I’m not!” Haechan sighed. “Look, I’ve gone through this before. I’m not the one who’s gonna have a problem. But you will. You’re an idol. You have an image to uphold. One rumor and all this will be over. So let’s just pretend nothing ever happened in the first place.”

“No,” Mark sent simply. “You don’t know me.”

“That’s the point, Mark! We don’t know each other. Why are we still texting here? We shouldn’t be texting, and you shouldn’t be sending me flowers!”

“How else am I supposed to get to know you?”

“Why do you need to get to know me?”

“Because I like you.”

Haechan stared at his phone screen incredulously. This was absurd.

“You hardly know anything about me, Mark!”

“Then go out with me.”

“You alright?” A fellow dancer asked from the booth beside Haechan, looking up at him with a worried expression. “You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine,” Haechan said, blinking at his phone to see if the words were his imagination or not. Nope, they were still there.

“What are you talking about, Mark? It’s not possible. You’re a celebrity! Everyone would recognize you. Do you want to be all over the tabloids for dating rumors?”

“You worry too much,” Mark wrote, not the least bit worried while Haechan was sweating buckets. “So, how about it? A date? With me? Whatchu doing on the weekend?”

Haechan wanted to laugh, cry, scream, jump around all at once. He didn’t know what was happening. All he knew was that he needed a shower, and his feet hurt from standing in fifth position during the seraph dance, and he was too damn hungry to think straight. 

But the roses did look pretty. Smelled nice too.

Chapter Text

“Are roses your favorite? Should I bring more on our date?”

“For the tenth time, I haven’t agreed to the date!” 

Haechan sighed and stared at his phone. It was Friday already and Mark showed no signs of backing out of his crazy idea of going on a date. It was ridiculous, and incredibly dangerous. Someone was bound to recognize Mark and then it’d be a whole fiasco. Haechan remembered that one time he and Eunseok had gone out to dinner before meeting with the others for drinks. People had flocked to their table for autographs and selfies as soon as they realized it was Eunseok. 

Haechan would rather not have a repeat of such an incident. Exchanging texts with Mark already felt like he was making a mistake. He should’ve stopped already. But he was regularly finding out how persistent Mark can be.

“What’s your favorite ice cream?” Mark had asked a day ago. Then he’d gone on to bombard their chat with a dozen photos of ice creams and selfies of Mark having ice cream with people who Haechan now knew as MDC members.

“You should just give me your number,” Mark had texted yesterday.

“Absolutely not,” Haechan couldn’t help but reply instantly.

“Why not? It’ll be easier for me to call or text you!” Mark had written. “Plus, going back and forth between my actual account and this fake one is kinda troublesome.”

“Then stop texting me!” 

“Absolutely not.”

Haechan hadn’t liked his own words used against him, so he had punished Mark by ignoring his texts for the rest of the night. It had been a futile resistance, because Mark hadn’t been discouraged at all.

“Do you like public places? Or like crowded places?” Mark asked now.

“I don’t like any places! We’re not going on a date!”

“Would it make you feel better if we didn’t call it a date?”

“Don’t you have a job?” Haechan typed, frustrated. “I thought being an idol was really busy work.”

“I’m at dance practice. We’re taking a break. What are you doing?”

None of your business, Haechan thought, getting up from the floor and stretching. He was teaching a class of teenagers, young boys between the ages of 12 and 15. They could hardly do the basics right, but it was always fun teaching young kids, breaking their ideas of stereotypes in ballet, surprising them with how difficult ballet really was, how much muscle power they needed, and how cool Jeno looked with his muscular physique in a tutu. The tutu was a bit extra, but Jeno loved being dramatic with young boys just to mess with them.

Haechan put his phone on silent and ignored the new texts from Mark. 

It had been difficult enough to explain to his friends where the roses had come from and why he hadn’t thrown them away if it was from a stranger. Haechan had to make up flimsy excuses that even he hadn’t believed. Thankfully everyone had been too excited about their original production being a huge success to care much about his secret admirer.

It had been more difficult the next day when Renjun and Jaemin had come over to help him preserve the flowers.

“You can dry them,” Renjun had suggested, tying some of the roses in small bundles and hanging them upside down. “I also brought my tools. We can press the rest too, if you want.”

Haechan had given Renjun full reign, because he didn’t know shit about taking care of flowers. But watching them slowly die was painful. This was the first time someone had given him 50 roses, it felt special. Just because he didn’t know how to take care of them didn’t mean they couldn’t be preserved some other way. And Renjun loved doing this kind of thing, so Haechan had decided to make the most of it.

“You really don’t know who sent them?” Jaemin had asked with a mix of surprise and suspicion, helping Renjun prune the flowers.

Haechan had just shrugged, pretending to be busy cooking the kimchi stew for their dinner. He didn’t want his voice to give anything away, and he knew his face was warm with a blush. He was too easy for his friends to read, they’d know at the slightest hint that something was up. Haechan was just delaying the inevitable at this point.

“I still can’t get any news about who’s being featured for the August issue,” Jaemin had said. “It’s so weird. Maybe it had something to do with future schedules, I don’t know.”

Haechan had nearly burned his hands, too distracted and panicking because of Jaemin’s assumptions. Because Haechan had found out from Mark himself that Mark’s solo debut hadn’t been announced by his company yet. He was still working on the album, which was supposed to be released after the Dazed Korea issue. The magazine would be coming out one day after the official announcement by Mark’s company, that was why everything was being kept a secret now. But Haechan couldn’t explain that to Jaemin because then he’d have to admit that he knew Mark and then he’d have to explain everything else. It was a slippery slope and nothing about it was appealing.

“I can’t believe how uninterested you are,” Renjun had grumbled. “If I was in your place, I would’ve asked everyone out of curiosity! Hell, I would’ve asked the guy I made out with. How could you not?”

“You know how these famous people are,” Haechan had exaggerated his mocking tone. “They do stuff like that at clubs and then pretend not to know you. I just didn’t want to bother. It was a one-time thing anyway!”

His friends couldn’t argue with that, especially since they were all aware about what had gone down with Eunseok. Haechan did feel kinda bad that he was painting Mark in such a harsh light, especially since Mark had been anything but pretentious about the whole matter. But this was all Haechan could do to not make a fool of himself again. And who even knew how Mark Lee was as a person? For all he knew, Mark could be the same type of asshole as Eunseok. Maybe he’d show his true colors on the date when they were around people.

Which wasn’t going to happen because Haechan was not going to go on a date with Mark.

“I can’t believe you guys are doing another MDC song,” Jaemin smiled, getting ready with his cameras. “Chenle would be thrilled!”

“Where is Chenle anyway?” Yeri asked. “Isn’t he usually with you guys at the filming?”

“He’s in Jeju,” Renjun explained. “One of his idols is filming there, and apparently there’s already been two PR disasters. He didn’t wanna risk a third.”

“Must be nice working with idols,” Winter said dreamily. “They’re all so pretty and talented.”

Haechan wanted to argue but held his tongue. He’d rather not focus on idols at the moment.

It was Friday night and they’d been practicing for their new video. Haechan had picked the song this time, mostly because he couldn’t stop obsessing over one of the songs by Mark’s group. Daydream. It was one of their older songs, released a few years ago, but Haechan loved the melody, and the lyrics were good enough to portray in a dance. And since this time he’d somehow managed to convince Winter and Yeri to do a dance with him, Jeno, and Renjun, Haechan thought this song was the perfect choice.

The idea had come from their latest show, the Seraphim, everyone falling in love with an angel. Except here, for this video, it wouldn’t just be one person. There were five of them now, and the dance would rotate, focusing on each of them as the main character, the lover in a daydream that others would fawn over. First it’d be Winter, then Renjun, then Yeri and Jeno, and finally it’d end with Haechan.

This was the first time they’d be dancing with five people for the channel. Usually it was just Haechan with Renjun or Jeno or all three of them together. Haechan was nervous, but excited too. Their three-day practice had gone great, the song was beautiful, and Jaemin was all set with his professional cameras. 

They got into position with Winter in the middle of a circle. She’d start the dance and the camera would pan out to include the rest of them coming together, vying for Winter’s attention, trying to seduce her. 

The whole scene changed with the pre-chorus, Renjun suddenly becoming the center of attention after a slow interaction with Winter. The whole chorus was a mix of half-splits and full-turns, the four of them dancing around Renjun as he spun in the middle. The second verse came and Renjun seemed to have given his power of making everyone fall in love with him to Jeno.

They’d chosen to film the dance in one of the Academy’s spacious studios. Mirrored walls and polished wooden floor making it easier for them to dance compared to some of their other more daring locations. Filming outdoors had been their go-to before things blew up. Now, with millions of people watching and being aware of what they did, they couldn’t risk being recognized and mobbed trying to film a new video.

It had been Winter’s idea to wear colorful, oversized shirts. They matched, but they seemed different too, it went great with the theme. Renjun, of course, went with yellow, his favorite color. Winter wore a light blue shirt with black shorts over her ballet tights. Jeno wore a green shirt, cinched at the waist with a black corset, and Yeri chose a cropped red shirt with a matching red tutu. Haechan had no choice but to go with purple, the only color left in the rainbow he looked mildly good in. They did look dreamy with the yellow studio lights dimmed out. No doubt Jaemin would make sure to edit them to make things seem even more fancy.

After an hour and a half of filming between breaks and adding changes, they were finally done. It wouldn’t be up until the weekend was over, but at least they were done with the dance. It was enough reason for them to pack up and go out for drinks afterward.

“If this video reaches 1 million views within a week,” Winter said between drinks. “I will become a permanent member of this crew!”

“Wait, can you say that again? I need to get that on camera,” Haechan laughed, taking out his phone to record her drunken giggles.

He regretted it a moment later when he noticed more than 20 texts. All from Mark.

“When’s your birthday?” Mark had written hours ago. “I saw that video where you celebrated it with your friends, but you said the day the video came out wasn’t your actual birthday. So when is it?”

“Are you busy? You’re probably busy…”

“I can’t seem to put my phone down, is this weird? I’m not usually like this.”

“I’m eating barbecue with the members at this weird restaurant where there’s a half-naked guy cooking the meat for us. Have you ever been to a place like this?”

“What are you having for dinner? Enjoy your meal!”

“We’re on for tomorrow right? I’ll be waiting for you.”

Haechan switched off his phone. This felt weirdly intimate, the way Mark was so comfortably inserting himself into Haechan’s mind and heart, trying to get to know him, sharing about himself as well. What did Mark want? Did he want to get into acting? Did he want to be friends with Actor Kim Doyoung like Eunseok? Or was it because Mark wanted some kind of favor from Chenle? Haechan wasn’t special at all, so it had to be one of his friends why Mark was incessantly chasing after him. Right?

He knew he was being ridiculous. The fact that Mark wanted to go on a date with him alone the next day, openly, proved that he wasn’t like Eunseok. But that didn’t stop Haechan from thinking the worst. His life was going good now, he had well paying jobs, he had good friends, he was mildly famous and still had his freedom. Inserting Mark in his life would do nothing but complicate things, ruin his peace. 

Ignoring him was the best decision. His friends would agree if they found out.

But, no matter how hard he tried, when he’d finally arrived home tired and sleepy, his fingers involuntarily went to the app. He stopped himself last minute before clicking on the icon for Mark’s shell account in his DMs. This needed to stop. He should block Mark. But…well, Mark could just create another account, numerous other accounts, to text him again.

He settled for muting the conversation, falling back on his bed to sleep off his anxiety.

He was greeted with a text from Johnny Suh in the morning. The Johnny Suh, the guy Haechan had done the magazine shoot with. He had 59 text alerts on Instagram and only one was from Johnny.

“Hey, Haechan,” Johnny had written. “It’s me, Johnny. We met at the Dazed Korea interview? It’s alright if you don’t remember me. I just wanted you to know that I really like your content on your channel, you’re really talented. You probably don’t know, but I have a vlog show called JCC - Johnny’s Communication Center. I usually try different kinds of activities there. So I was just wondering if you wanted to do a collab work with me? I’d love to try ballet, nothing too complicated or fancy, just a beginner’s lesson maybe? I think we’d both benefit from a collab like this, and I’m looking forward to getting to know you and spending some time together as friends. Please let me know what you think, I’ll be waiting for your reply. Have a great day!”

A collaboration? Haechan had never really thought about it. It wasn’t a bad idea, and it could be fun too. He liked Johnny, as far as he could tell from his videos. And yes, he’d watched JCC episodes on Johnny’s channel, they were pretty cool, hilarious too the ones he’d done with Mark. They acted like actual siblings, Johnny cracking jokes and Mark giggling like a kid.

“What do you think?” Haechan asked, he’d decided to call Renjun and ask for his opinion.

“Well, are you sure it’s him?”

“Yeah, he sent the text from his actual verified account,” Haechan said. “And he sent me his number a few minutes ago. He seems really interested.”

“I guess it’ll be fun,” Renjun said. “Ask him about the details, what he wants to do, who gets the posting credits and all that.”

Haechan hadn’t even thought of those things. He was still getting the hang of having a YouTube channel and he’d never done any collaborations. He wished Chenle were available, Chenle would’ve known how to deal with this properly. But he was busy with his own job, Haechan didn’t want to bother him. So he ended up calling Johnny on the phone, it was better to do business on a call than on text.

“I’m really glad you reached out!” Johnny’s excited voice came from the other side of the phone. “This is gonna be a great experience.”

“Let’s just have fun,” Haechan said, Johnny’s cheerfulness was contagious.

“Can I bring my team?” Johnny asked. “They help me film, and they’re all very friendly. It won’t be awkward, I promise. You can bring your friends too, I know you usually film with your friends.”

“Alright, I don’t have any problems with that,” Haechan said.

They went over the details of where and when it’ll all take place. Both of them can film, upload two different perspectives in each of their channels.

“Are you free today?” Johnny asked suddenly. “I don’t mind doing the video on short notice if you’re okay with it. I know you must be busy on weekdays.”

“Not…today,” Haechan said slowly. “I need to talk to my friends, I’ll let you know soon. Is there any particular day which would be more convenient for you?”

“Any day is fine, don’t worry about me,” Johnny laughed. “Let me know when everything’s decided!”

Even though Haechan didn’t really have any plans for today, he was too strung up about Mark wanting to go on a date today. He wasn’t gonna go, obviously. And he also refused to check any of Mark’s texts, even though the notification now read 66 messages. Nope, Haechan wasn’t gonna change his mind. This needed to be nipped at the bud or else it’d come back to bite him in the ass like last time.

Haechan ended up going to the Love Bakery. Baking was healing for him and he was more than a little stressed out now. He could’ve just baked at home, he had a wide variety of products and equipment at hand. But he didn’t want to be alone. Being alone meant there was a chance he could relapse, check Mark’s 102 texts, go on that date. At least if he was at the bakery, he could distract himself with responsibility.

Junmyeon was, of course, overjoyed. It was rare to have Haechan at the shop past 8 in the morning. And he decided to take full advantage of the situation, encouraging Haechan to bake a few elaborate cakes.

So there Haechan was, working a shift on a Saturday, baking red velvet cakes and wondering whether Mark was waiting for him. He knew Mark had given a place and time in his texts, told Haechan where he’d wait for him. Was he going through with it? Clearly he should know by now that Haechan wasn’t gonna show. Maybe he gave up?

Thinking about it didn’t do any good. Haechan nearly burned the lemon flavored sponge cakes and over-whipped the buttercream for the chocolate ones. He focused on the tasks at hand, forcing thoughts of Mark out of his mind. 

It wasn’t everyday that he got to see the bakery’s customers or other staff. The environment was cheerful, the servers, Giselle and Jisung, were charming as much as, if not more than, Junmyeon. The customers were pretty nice too. It was like everyone knew that this was a happy place, the air filled with the sweet smell of caramel and vanilla, everyone smiling. Junmyeon worked on the coffee while Haechan baked his cakes, a special menu for this weekend, the servers bickering with each other but being all smiles and laughter with customers. 

Not a bad way to spend the weekend if Haechan thought about it. During his student days, he’d used all his weekends to catch up on sleep and heal his body, too exhausted to pick up an extra shift. Now though, he could do this every weekend if he wanted. Did he want it though? 

He knew his friends wouldn’t approve. Jeno had Jaemin, they spend weekends doing boyfriend shit, going shooting, riding bikes, and who knew what else. Doyoung had his secret boyfriend, who was probably famous. Renjun had Yangyang and a bunch of other friends, they regularly went for trips and camping almost every weekend. Only Chenle was usually stuck with his job, but he didn’t mind all that much because no matter how much he complained, he actually really liked being a PR guy. They all had something or someone they loved, people they could hang out with to destress. Haechan couldn’t imagine destressing each weekend by baking cakes for Junmyeon, it was bound to become a chore soon enough. His friends would rather that he went on blind dates, found someone he liked.

Ironic, because there was a perfectly fine guy wanting to date him, probably waiting at some café or square. 

Haechan sighed. If Mark wasn’t famous, he wouldn’t have wasted a second to think about it. He was cute and funny and from what Haechan knew from the internet, he was quite a catch. Hardworking, kind, talented, sweet. No wonder people liked him so much, he was one of the most popular idols in the industry, apparently nobody disliked him. And this was exactly why he couldn’t just give in to Mark. The more eyes Mark had on him, the more dangerous it was for Haechan’s heart. Because it was more likely to be problematic if they did start to date. More chances of rumors spreading, more threats from fans who wanted their favorite idol to be hetero and always available for their fantasies. More likely that Mark would change his mind about being open about things to the public later on when the rumors started to wane his fame.

Better to bake cakes. All he had to worry about here was getting the perfect batter consistency.

“God, I hate SM!” Chenle shouted, chugging down the soju.

“You should try a day at Dispatch,” Jaemin grumbled. “I can’t believe I had to work even during my weekend. It’s the fucking weekend!”

“People were staring at us,” Jeno laughed. “Nobody ever expected to see someone in bike riding gear and helmet sit on the grass near the Han river and work on his laptop like that.” 

They were all out at night to have drinks at one of the road-side open restaurants, one that had the most delicious ramens Haechan had ever tasted. Unfortunately Chenle and Jaemin were glaring at him for enjoying his food so much.

“What happened?” Haechan asked.

“I spent the last four days trying to clear up rumors of one of my idols being forceful with a costar,” Chenle said. “It was all made up so he’d lose the acting gig. You wouldn’t believe how much time I spent digging around security footage to prove the accusers wrong. Two whole days without sleep! And what do I get in return? Another fuck up right here at home! Thank you, Na Jaemin, for making my life easier though. I don’t think I had the energy to deal with that shit today.”

Jaemin clinked his glasses with Chenle. “I wouldn’t have to if your idols stayed in line. Who the fuck stands in the middle of the crowd without a disguise or a manager like that? With a bouquet of roses! Doesn’t he know he’s famous? Did he forget he was an idol or something?”

“He’s an idiot, that’s what he is,” Chenle grumbled. He looked at Haechan and Doyoung. “Don’t you guys ever do that, alright?”

“Do what?” Doyoung asked. “Are you talking about the whole Mark Lee fiasco?”

Haechan choked on his drink. He tried to pretend it was because he was drinking hastily, but honestly, that name coming up in this discussion was the last thing he’d expected. He was so relieved that he hadn't taken any photos of Mark and sent them in the group chat on the day of his interview. Every one of his friends seemed to know who Mark Lee was. He stayed mum trying not to think about the bouquet of roses Mark apparently had with him.

“Mark is such an idiot!” Chenle shouted, pissed. “I mean, you know you’re an idol, you have an image to protect. You can’t just walk around alone in the streets like that!”

“He told one of our reporters that he was meeting a special friend!” Jaemin said. “Can you believe the nerve! Be thankful I took over, otherwise you’d be dealing with Mark’s imaginary lover trending number 1 on twitter.”

“Why was he out without a manager or someone with him?” Doyoung asked. “I thought SM is pretty strict when it comes to MDC.”

“Like I said, Mark is an idiot,” Chenle sighed. “He’s like, one of the few people who doesn’t give a fuck. And normally I like that kinda attitude, because it means I don’t have to worry about creating the perfect fan service personality for him. But this is the second time he’s done something like this and I’m getting worried.”

“When was the first time?” Jaemin asked.

“Remember the Friday we went to celebrate Haechan’s magazine gig?” Chenle sighed.

“No wonder you had to rush out so suddenly,” Renjun said. “What did he do that time? The same?”

“Apparently someone saw something,” Chenle said. “An anonymous tip came from an online source. We all thought Mark was at the dorm. Apparently he wasn’t. Even his manager couldn’t find him for a solid hour! And guess what? He was at the same fucking club the whole time. If I’d known I’d have probably punched the idiot, idol image be damned.” 

Haechan was glad he’d stopped drinking. If not, he’d be choking again, this time to death. His cheeks burned, but he was willing to play it off as him being already drunk. Staying quiet was the only way for him to not give away how bad he was panicking internally.

“You sure he’s not dating someone?” Doyoung asked. “Why would he suddenly behave like this?”

“It’s not really sudden,” Jaemin scoffed. “This is the sixth article I’ve written about him this year.”

“But he’s usually out with a purpose,” Chenle said. “Like when he does vlogs with his friends and stuff. I can’t figure out what it is this time.”

“Didn’t you ask him?” Renjun said.

“No, Renjun, that never crossed my mind,” Chenle said sarcastically. “Of course I fucking asked him. He said he got turned down by a guy. But knowing him, I know he’s fucking with me.”

“What if he’s telling the truth?” Jeno asked. “He could be–”

“No,” Chenle said. “I’ve known him for two years, I know he’s straight. He had a girlfriend, that was before I started working at SM. But I don’t think it was a cheap PR stunt to gain attention. So he’s definitely fucking with me. And I can’t do anything to spin this story in any meaningful way, because what if it backfires and comes back to bite me in the ass? My job will be on the line!”

“That’s unfair,” Doyoung nodded. “Idols should be more considerate of the staff working with them. Not to mention the impact on his own group mates.”

“Everyone in MDC is like that, now that I think about it,” Chenle grumbled. “No wonder SM keeps them on a tight leash.”

“It’s also probably why they’re so popular,” Renjun said. “I was checking online and they seem to have risen to fame pretty quickly compared to the others in their generation.”

“Well, yeah, because they’re mad talented,” Chenle said, sounding proud. “But I get what you mean. Being genuine has its charms, and they’re all pretty interesting characters. But it doesn’t make my job easier!”

Haechan remained quiet for the rest of the night, listening to his friends as they ranted about their jobs and joked around. It was comforting, he could almost pretend he wasn’t thinking about Chenle’s words. 

I’ve known him for two years, I know he’s straight.  

Mark hadn’t acted like he was completely straight at the club. He could be bisexual. But then again, Haechan didn’t know him as well as Chenle did. Maybe Mark really was straight. 

Then why had he been roaming around the streets? Haechan couldn’t feign ignorance, Mark was probably waiting for him. Why would he wait for him, hoping to go on a date, when he was straight? And why the fuck would he put his mouth on Haechan where anyone could see anything? Unspoken rule, my ass, Haechan thought. Someone had seen Mark and him make out and anonymously wrote about it online. It was a relief that Haechan wasn’t as famous yet, not enough to be known by everyone. Mark had gotten lucky, Haechan too. Both of their careers could’ve been over if the truth was revealed.

Hell, their careers could still be over. In about two weeks, Dazed Korea would publish their August issue, featuring Haechan and Mark along with Johnny. Speculations were bound to fly. What if that person, whoever had seen them at the club, the one who’d written that online post, saw the magazine and started putting two and two together? 

When he finally checked Mark’s texts after getting home, Haechan skipped past through all the ‘I’m waiting for you’s and ‘You can’t keep ignoring me’s, past the photos Mark had sent him of the cafe’s he’d hopped and the fans he’d met all day, the streets he’d walked, posing goofily, pointing at pictures and typography in random places that said things like ‘Where r U?’ and ‘I miss U’, even sending a video where he was at a department store, the radio playing a song with a chorus of ‘I wish you’d like me too’.

“Stop it,” Haechan wrote now. “It’s not gonna work. I’m not dating you. And you’re gonna stop being an idiot and putting your career in jeopardy. Have you even thought about it? Someone saw us at the club and wrote something about it online! What do you think will happen when the magazine gets published? People are gonna go crazy with the rumors. My career isn’t as dependent on the fantasies of teenage girls as yours is. Are you really willing to throw everything away so easily? Let’s just forget anything ever happened and move on.”

Haechan finally got to write his paragraph, but no peace came with it.

“I don’t know how you know about the club thing getting out,” Mark wrote a minute later. “But you’re obviously very agitated about it at the moment. Why don’t we talk about this over coffee tomorrow?”

“Are you even listening to me?!”

“You refuse to give me your phone, I can’t really hear you.”

Haechan was seconds away from throwing his phone against the wall. He tried to calm himself before doing anything stupid.

“Look. I’m not interested. Give it up, Mark.”

“I don’t believe you,” Mark wrote.

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t believe me?”

“I remember the sounds you make and the way you react to me,” Mark wrote, making Haechan’s hands shake suddenly. “I’ve seen you look at me. I know you like me. Granted, I didn’t think you’d be afraid. But that’s beside the point. Fine, so you say you don’t want to date. We don’t have to date. We can still be friends. Or are you against it too?”

Haechan didn’t know what to say. He was still trying to process Mark’s words. It shouldn’t be a surprise, he was an idol - singer, rapper, dancer, maybe he wrote songs too. Waxing poetic was his profession, all that fan service he had to do needed practice after all. 

“I’ll take your silence as no objection,” Mark wrote when Haechan didn’t reply. “Guess we’re now friends, then.”

Why did being friends seem even more dangerous now?

Chapter Text

Getting permission from the administration wasn’t that hard. Haechan worked at the IBA, and with his record as a small-time celebrity now, the school was getting a lot of buzz marketing done with no effort on its part. Of course, they had to agree to let him use one of the studios to host another celebrity like Johnny for his YouTube content.

“You know the rules Mr. Lee,” Mr. Park from admin said, looking over his heavy framed glasses. “Keep things nice and proper. Get in a few good words about our school.”

“Yes, yes, just give me the permission letter already,” Haechan gestured impatiently.

His instructors might be old men in tights who didn’t understand shit about what he was doing, the fusion of ballet and modern media to create a new interest in the dance style. But the admins and school board knew plenty well. Haechan suspected sometimes that his employment at the IBA had a lot to do with him being in the spotlight, at least recently, than him being a top graduate.

“You get one of the new grand studios upstairs,” Mr. Park said, handing him the piece of printed paper. 

“If you want me to advertise IBA for free, just say so,” Haechan sighed.

“Don’t forget to give Mr. Suh a tour of the whole place!” Mr. Park said, uncharacteristically cheerful. They were saving big bucks on promotional campaigns anyway.

Haechan had agreed to film a video with Johnny thinking only about how bad it’d seem if he denied it. They’d filmed for Dazed Korea together. And Haechan might be new in the scene but he was quite aware how people tended to blow things out of proportion once things were revealed. What if Johnny told his fans how Haechan refused to work with him? Haechan would have Johnny’s fans throwing tomatoes at him on the streets! Or worse.

And besides, his friends, especially Renjun, would’ve killed him if he’d canceled on Johnny.

“I’m a proud Johfam!” Renjun had said with a huff, the night Haechan had told his friends about it. “Don’t you dare say no to him. And I’m going to be there of course. I need to get his autograph!”

“Well, fine, I was gonna ask you anyway,” Haechan had sighed. “I’m gonna need help teaching a noob how to dance, I need all the help I could get.”

“Great, but why do I have to be there?” Jeno had whined.

“Because I’m gonna be there filming for our own celeb,” Jaemin had laughed. “And if I have to work on a Saturday, for which I don’t get paid by the way, you have to be there in your tights to make it worth it at least.”

“Please don’t freak Johnny out with your PDA,” Renjun had said. “We don’t need that on camera.”

“We already have that on camera,” Jaemin had deadpanned.

It took them ten seconds of silence before everyone had lost their shit at the insinuation of Jaemin’s words.

“Ew, gross! Don’t–” Renjun had screamed his protests.

“I would’ve been absolutely fine without knowing that information,” Chenle had said angrily.

“I will cancel with Johnny right now if you pull some shit, Jaemin,” Haechan had threatened.

“I will murder you,” Renjun had threatened Haechan right back. “And then I’m gonna murder these two godless asses after that.”

“I need to bleach my ears,” Chenle had contemplated. “And then my eyes.”

“You’re the one still thinking about it!” Jeno had laughed, Jaemin cackling beside him.

Haechan had just been glad that they were having dinner at his place instead of outside. Because things had only gotten more chaotic after that.

Haechan had forced Renjun and Jeno to practice a simple routine for Johnny to learn. They’d selected the songs too. Johnny had given his own suggestions and full reign to Haechan about deciding on the creative elements. Johnny was just gonna be there for the experience and to get it all on camera. Fair enough, Haechan had thought at the time. 

But now he was panicking. It was Saturday morning, and the Academy was mostly empty except for the special classes, and kid’s pre-programs. As he stood at the front of the elaborate gates with Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun beside him, Haechan felt more nervous than he’d thought he would. Which was weird, because he hadn’t felt this nervous while doing the photoshoot with Johnny. As far as he could tell from their interactions so far, as well as Renjun’s enthusiastic babble about that man, Johnny seemed like a chill guy. Except Haechan’s gut feelings were telling him to be weary.

Maybe it was the thought of filming with another Youtuber? Johnny had more than twice the amount of followers, his fans passionately dedicated to love and defend him. That was reason enough for Haechan to be a bit careful about how he behaved today. One wrong word and he could have crazy fans chewing him out on online forums. Haechan didn’t want to be hated just yet, thank you very much.

“Relax, you’ll be fine,” Jaemin said, squinting in the sun.

“Johnny’s the sweetest guy ever,” Renjun defended. “And he likes you. So his fans will too.”

Haechan, thankfully, didn’t have to think too long after that, because two huge cars came to a stop in front of them. He was too surprised to think about anything else. Maybe that was what it was like to be famous, bringing your whole crew to a simple YouTube content filming session who couldn’t fit in one single car. Johnny and his crew came out with their cameras and other equipment.

And then there was Mark fucking Lee coming out of the car as well. With a small bouquet of roses.

Honestly, Haechan should’ve known. His gut feeling was never wrong. He had plenty of reasons to be nervous, first and foremost being Mark Lee being there. He looked dumbfounded at Johnny, then at his friends. Jaemin was open-mouthed, staring with wide-eyes at Mark, then at Haechan and back again.

“Hi!” Johnny said cheerfully. “Hope we’re not late.”

“Hey,” Mark smiled widely at Haechan, handing him the flowers. “For you. I assumed you like roses.”

Haechan stared at them, willing his hands to take the bouquet and not stand awkwardly frozen. His friends were just as surprised as him, still reeling from the revelation that Mark Lee, the idol, was here. Haechan was full-on panicking internally. He still hadn’t told any of his friends about Mark yet. They only knew that Johnny was one of the people at the magazine shoot, not that Mark had been there too. And now, one word from Johnny or Mark would reveal everything. Jaemin and Renjun would be the first ones to know and they’re gonna give him an earful by the end of the day. That was if the filming wasn’t a complete disaster today. 

“It’s totally fine,” Renjun said, recovering quicker than the others. “You guys are just in time!”

“We should probably go inside,” Jaemin said. “Before anyone notices you guys.”

Before people found out that they had Mark Lee here at the IBA and reporters started crowding in along with crazy fans. This was such a bad idea, Haechan was only realizing what an idiot he’d been in agreeing to this without thinking things through. What had he expected? That Johnny would come with maybe two-three of his film crew and record a few hours of content and reduce it down to a half hour edit for his channel? The man was here with seven other people, most of whom didn’t even look like film crew, and Mark Lee.

What the fuck was Mark doing here?

“You knew anything about this?” Jaemin whispered to him as they trailed behind everyone. Thank god for Renjun, because he was doing a great job of keeping everyone engaged in cheerful conversations and leading the way to their allotted studio.

“Not a fucking clue,” Haechan shook his head.

“You know who that is, right? Mark Lee. The Mark Lee. One word of this and IBA would be flooded with fangirls, and fanboys, right now, within minutes!”

“I’m aware,” Haechan grounded through his teeth.

“Johnny didn’t tell you he was bringing Mark?”

“No,” Haechan said. “He said he’ll bring friends to help him film. I thought he just meant his film crew. Not… him .”

“Well, we’re gonna have a problem keeping him a secret,” Jaemin sighed. “But, on the bright side, if things do get out, I get to write an exclusive piece, with photos and all.”

“I hate you,” Haechan mumbled.

“No, you don’t. Be glad I’m here. I can at least write the truth. The others will undoubtedly spin this into something more scandalous for clout.”

“He honestly can’t be that special,” Haechan huffed, annoyed.

“He’s at the peak of his career. His solo album is about to drop next month. And to think, with all the interviews and magazine covers he’s doing even before his album is out, he still had time to film content with his friend Johnny,” Jaemin said. “This is already headline worthy news. People are gonna freak out, mostly positively. His fans know how hardworking he is. But won’t stop the negative speculations. Especially since he doesn’t know you. Only Johnny knows you from the shoot. So people are obviously gonna–”

“He knows me,” Haechan blurted out, going still, letting the others walk on.

“What?” Jaemin stopped as well, looking at him with confusion, then suspicion, glancing at the roses still in Haechan’s hand. 

“Mark was there,” Haechan said, red faced and unable to look Jaemin in the eyes. He might as well tell him now before Jaemin found out from someone else. “At the photoshoot. I didn’t know him at first. I just knew him from–”

“The club,” Jaemin said, putting two and two together. “What the fuck, Haechan?!”

Thankfully, everyone else had already gone up to their studio, the hallway was empty save for Haechan and Jaemin. But he still pulled Jaemin around the corner to make sure nobody heard them.

“I didn’t fucking know, alright?” Haechan said, unable to keep his own voice low. “I didn’t know who he was at the club either. And I was a little drunk. And even at the photoshoot, I told you guys it was the same guy, but I honestly didn’t know who he was until a lot later!”

“Oh my god, you–you kissed…and he…” Jaemin shook his head in a daze. “I thought he was fucking straight! What the fuck?”

“Well, I don’t know honestly. But…I don’t think so?” Haechan mumbled, debating whether to tell Jaemin the rest. He might as well. “I don’t think he’s…uh…He asked me out.”

“He what?!”

“I rejected him! Stop shouting! You’re making me panic!”

“ I’m panicking!” Jaemin shouted again before lowering his voice. “Haechan, do you even know what this means? He’s Mark Lee! He’s ten times more famous than you, and I don’t mean that to demean you. I mean, he’s famous enough to have crazy people after him. Any rumor about him and you, and people are gonna come after you with pitchforks and–oh my god…oh god, it was you! He was out there that day because of you, wasn’t he?”

Haechan’s silence was answer enough.

“Jesus Christ!” Jaemin ran his fingers through his hair. “This is bad. Haechan, this is bad bad.”

“I know! I told you, I rejected him!”

“Well, then why is he here?” Jaemin asked, gesturing towards the hallway. “Obviously for you. I’m pretty sure he’s still filming for his own music video for an upcoming album, even though SM’s still being very hush-hush about it. And he still had time to walk around the streets, come here, knowing very well that you’re gonna be here. If someone starts putting these things together, things are gonna go sideways in seconds.”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Haechan sounded angry now. “He came to me! He contacted me! I told him ‘no’ multiple times. I refused to go on a date with him. Maybe he knew I wouldn’t show up and that’s why he convinced Johnny to bring him along, because Johnny would’ve told me if he was bringing Mark fucking Lee here! So tell me, what the fuck am I’m supposed to do now?”

Jaemin stayed quiet for a while before speaking again. “Well, you can’t exactly get out of this. Johnny’s here to get lessons from you specifically. You’re gonna have to be on camera now. So…maybe let Renjun and Jeno handle Mark?”

“Alright,” Haechan nodded. “Renjun’s gonna be pissed, he’s dying to get his hands on Johnny. But fuck it, my life is on the line here.”

“You’re gonna have to tell him too,” Jaemin said. “About this. And Chenle. Dear god, Chenle’s gonna go batshit crazy when he finds out his favorite idol-client was in love with his best friend.”

“Mark’s not in love with me!” Haechan stuttered, face feeling unnaturally hot. “It’s just some temporary infatuation. I don’t even know.”

“I hope to god you’re right. Because I don’t wanna have to write articles about this. This won’t be received well.”

Public reception of this news was the last thing on Haechan’s mind right now. He just wanted this collaboration with Johnny to be over and then he’d make sure to cut off all ties with Mark once and for all.

Haechan didn’t get a chance to tell Renjun or Jeno. Everyone was already at the studio. Johnny’s film crew was setting up their camera. The other people had set up shop at one corner. Haechan belatedly realized they were makeup artists. Mark was there, so was Johnny, getting their faces and hair ready for camera. They’d changed into more comfortable dance clothes, wearing stretchy joggers and plain t-shirts instead of the leather jackets and designer pants they’d been wearing.

“I feel like we should’ve put more effort into how we looked,” Renjun said as he stretched.

“I brushed my teeth twice,” Jeno said. “That is as much effort as I am willing to put in.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Jaemin said. “We need to talk about shit later.”

“What do you mean? What happened?” Jeno asked.

They all looked at Haechan as he set down the flowers on the floor at one corner, as if sensing it had something to do with him. They weren’t wrong, but Haechan felt angry being put on the spot like this. Mostly angry at himself. He really was the one with all the problems. But this time, it wasn’t his fault, not entirely. He’d never asked to dance with Mark, or whatever else had happened afterward, he never asked to be on the cover of a magazine, he never asked for the spotlight! And now, there was a real chance that he’d be mobbed if people found out there was something between him and Mark. Haechan hated this.

“Take the lead,” Haechan told Renjun.

“What? You’re the one they’re here for. It won’t look good if I do it,” Renjun said. “You alright?”

Haechan looked helplessly at Jaemin. Jaemin only pursed his lips in frustration. None of them were prepared for this situation, half of them didn’t even know what was going on. And the worst part was, this was all gonna be on camera. The clips would be posted both on Johnny’s channel and on Haechan’s as well. How the fuck was he gonna escape this?

“Haechan isn’t feeling well,” Jaemin said. “You two will assist Johnny and Mark. Haechan’s gonna lead and instruct. Right?”

“Right,” Haechan nodded obediently. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“What happened?” Renjun asked, worried. “Did you get hurt?”

“What about the end performance?” Jeno asked.

“I’m fine–I mean, the performance will be fine,” Haechan stuttered. “Just do as Jaemin says.”

When Johnny and Mark were done with their makeup, they all got together for proper introductions. Johnny was casual and charming as always, easy going and comfortable. Mark was cheerful, but it was probably a bit too noticeable how he kept looking at Haechan. Intentionally. Haechan wanted to slap him.

“We should start with stretching first,” Haechan said while walking far away from them and standing against the mirrored wall of the studio. “My friends will help you.”

It would be funny watching them bend this way and that, a lot more than either of them were used to despite Mark being an active dancer and Johnny being an ex-dancer, but Haechan was too stressed out. The cameras had already started rolling, Johnny wanted the entire time they were here on his recordings. One of those cameras was focused on Mark the whole time, and Mark made it no secret that he was sneaking glances at Haechan every chance he got.

“We’ll show you very basic stuff,” Haechan said hurriedly. If Mark wanted to look, Haechan needed to give him, and everyone else a reason to look at him. “The gestures. Hands and toes. The five positions. And a few spins. You guys ready?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Johnny cheered.

“Tell us if you face any problems,” Haechan said, ignoring Mark. “Some of the moves might be a bit hard for a beginner. And since we’re doing this barefoot, we need to be careful not to get hurt.”

“True, true, safety comes first,” Johnny said. “Especially since Mark’s having a comeback.”

“You’re having a comeback?” Renjun asked, surprised. “I follow MDC, I didn’t hear anything.”

“It’s a solo comeback,” Mark said. He had the audacity to blush and look embarrassed. “Promotions haven’t started yet so most people don’t know.”

“When will this be aired?” Jaemin inquired. “I don’t think the solo comeback date has been announced officially yet.”

“Probably after the magazine comes out,” Johnny said. “I can’t really upload anything with the three of us now, since people don’t know we’re friends yet. Plus, Mark’s comeback is pending. So this will come out afterwards. I need people interested first.”

“Good plan,” Jaemin nodded. “Maybe I’ll write about it when you upload.”

“Hey, that’d be great, thanks!” Johnny said, smiling.

Haechan wanted to leave. Because now Renjun and Jeno were looking at him wide-eyed and betrayed, finally figuring out it had been Mark at the photoshoot with Haechan and Johnny, meaning it had been Mark that night at the club. Mark was Blondie, the Lucky Guy. He could almost hear Renjun and Doyoung lecturing him in his head, it was probably gonna happen tonight anyway. And Chenle would also be there to scream at him.

“Let’s start,” Haechan said.

It was fun, Haechan had to admit it. Johnny was a total mood maker, even making Jaemin cackle behind the camera. Renjun was whipped, half Johnny’s size and bossing him around. Jeno was probably a bit too strong for Mark, holding on too tightly at times, but Mark tried not to show his discomfort on camera. Haechan didn’t feel pity enough to help him. Served him right for coming here unannounced and causing problems for Haechan.

There was too much laughter, half the time they were all joking around instead of dancing. Haechan hadn’t expected that. He’d thought it’d be very documentary-like, he’d teach Johnny a few moves, they’d dance a routine at the end, and that’d be it. But it was more than that. Johnny really was perfect as a youtuber, he asked interesting questions, never stayed silent for too long, was always responsive, and he had a cool sense of humor. And he and Mark together were the perfect duo, they acted more like siblings, bickering and joking around, Mark laughing in his high-pitched giggles.

This was good. People would think they were all good friends, Renjun and Jeno as well. Mark seemed to like them very much. It meant less suspicion towards Haechan. And it was a good thing Johnny wanted to post this after the publication of Dazed Korea, that’d give people enough reason to believe they were all just good friends. Nothing more.

“We prepared a special performance for you,” Renjun said excitedly. “It’s a new routine, we haven’t filmed it yet, so this will be the first time performing it!”

Haechan wanted to throttle Renjun. He looked helplessly at Jaemin who only rolled his eyes in frustration. Because the new routine was a duet Haechan had only practiced with Jeno. And it was very romantic, something Jeno had wanted to do to get Jaemin a little jealous. And now that Renjun already mentioned that it was a new routine, Haechan couldn’t just perform any old routine and call it a day. He couldn’t even make Renjun dance in his stead, he didn’t know the steps.

“That’s amazing!” Johnny cheered. “I can’t wait to see. Let’s see how the professionals do it, guys!”

Haechan could feel Mark’s gaze on him even as he moved to put on his ballet shoes along with Jeno. One camera still trained on Mark’s face, capturing his open expression. Anyone watching the video would be able to read Mark like a book and speculate everything that wasn’t even real along with some of the things that were. Haechan could almost see all the internet chaos that would soon ensue once this got out.

“I feel like I should be careful not to touch you today,” Jeno whispered as they got in position.

“What?” Haechan looked surprised. “Did Jaemin finally get jealous?”

“No,” Jeno laughed. “I was talking about Mark. He’s your guy, isn’t he?”

“Just focus on the fucking dance,” Haechan huffed, his face red with anger and embarrassment.

Renjun cued the music as Haechan faced the mirror wall, Jeno standing behind him. A song called “Vanilla” by the idol Kai started playing through the speakers. The song was one of Haechan’s personal favorites, all about that soft, sweet love that demanded savoring. The worst kind of song they could’ve picked to perform in front of their current audience.

They started soft, individual movements going separate directions, spins and turns, raised legs and pointed toes until the first verse started and they faced each other. Mirroring each other, they danced around themselves, small touches and mild interactions during the pre-chorus. They danced side by side during the first chorus, Haechan could see Mark gaping at him shamelessly through the mirror.

The second verse was the more dangerous one. All soft touches and romance, it was courtship in ballet form, a bit more than any other romantic choreo they’d done before. Haechan tried to ignore the mirror, pulling his gaze down and focusing on his steps, letting Jeno lead his movements. It was a dance between a shy lover and an appreciative one, Haechan being the former. Ironic.

The second chorus came and Haechan went for the jump, Jeno lifting him by the waist. Twirling around, Haechan came down with a slow arch of his leg. They spun and danced together, their gestures a shadow of one another, Jeno holding Haechan against him. This performance would look best in an open space, them wearing long skirts, Jeno preferably shirtless. Haechan wasn’t above exploiting his friend for clout. Plus, Jeno was the one who’d suggested it. But now Haechan wanted to cancel the whole thing, forget about the dance altogether. Because he could feel Mark’s gaze on his heated skin. 

And…he liked it. Maybe?

Maybe it was the song? Maybe it was the roses. Or maybe the truth being out finally made him realize that Mark fucking Lee liked him. Enough to ask him out, bring him roses, and come to meet him, regardless of everything else. Haechan would say it was romantic, but it was stupid. Didn’t Mark realize how dangerous this was? Why was he being so careless?

“There you have it, Johfam!” Johnny said into the camera as soon as the song ended. “That’s the real deal right there. That was brilliant, you guys!”

Mark said nothing, just stared. And it was so visible, every pair of eyes and every camera in the room would catch it if they were looking at Mark. 

Thankfully, Johnny didn’t prolong their collab anymore. 3 hours of raw footage needed to be edited, that was a lot of work. 

“We should all get some lunch,” Johnny suggested. “I really loved working with you guys.”

“Yeah, it–”

“We can’t,” Haechan said, cutting off Renjun. 

“We need to film the new dance,” Jaemin said, smiling and doing a better job than Haechan about keeping his shit together.

“Oh, right, right, of course!” Johnny nodded enthusiastically. “Some other time then. I had a lot of fun with you guys!”

“We should get a picture together,” Mark said out of the blue.

“Yeah, I almost forgot,” Johnny said. “Let’s do it.”

Of course, the universe wasn’t on his side. Because Mark somehow managed to stand next to Haechan even after Haechan had dragged Renjun and Jeno with him.

“Smile!” Jaemin said with a fake smile from behind the camera.

Haechan tried, he really did. But just before the shutter sounded, he felt Mark’s hand on his waist like that time for the Dazed Korea shoot, and he couldn’t help but look at the man beside him. It was a reflex, his head turning sideways to see what Mark wanted because the touch felt like it wanted attention, a subtle tug instead of a resting palm. The flash went off just as he found Mark’s eyes looking back at him, standing too close, holding breaths.

Thankfully, Johnny wanted more than just one photo. He made all of them switch places and positions, making goofy poses, calling his own crew and Jaemin to join them. There was a good chance that Johnny wouldn’t post the first picture online. Maybe Haechan could even make a request for him to delete the photo altogether.

Haechan had promised Mr. Park that he’d give Johnny a tour. That meant Johnny, his whole crew, and Mark.

“You guys should probably put your masks on,” Haechan told Johnny, ignoring the man beside him as best as he could. “Nobody knew you were bringing Mark Lee. Weekend morning classes are on so there will be people. It’s probably best if they don’t recognize you.”

Johnny didn’t mind. He was just excited to get to see the whole place, the new buildings with modern steel and glass architecture, and the older, more traditional buildings with heavy wooden furnishings. The whole place was full of greenery and open spaces, two auditoriums, an open theater in the middle plaza surrounded by circular stairs for rows of seats. Haechan liked the Academy campus. But having Mark beside him, getting to see everything through his eyes, after all the secret touches and unread texts, Haechan could barely appreciate the place. He was too nervous, downright jittery.

Renjun had taken initiative to show Johnny around the place. Jeno was helping Jaemin film. Having Mark walk beside him was inevitable, Haechan couldn’t avoid it without seeming rude. But at least Mark was silent, probably because of one of the cameras trained on him at all times. Haechan couldn’t help but wonder how Mark looked so relaxed, ignoring the huge-ass lens of the go-pro. Maybe he was used to it, being an idol and all. Everyone always watching him, always in front of a camera. Unlike Haechan. He could barely stand it sometimes, only pushing through because of Jaemin’s threats.

“You trained here for four years, right?” Mark asked suddenly.

“Yeah,” Haechan nodded, throwing a fleeting glance at the camera, schooling his features to nonchalance. 

“Kinda reminds me of SM training camp,” Mark smiled. “We had to train for four-five years too, before debut. I was maybe twelve then.”

“You became an idol at twelve?” Haechan couldn’t help but ask, it was horrifying to think of someone so young going into the K-pop industry. It wasn’t exactly kid-friendly.

“No, no,” Mark laughed. “I became a trainee first. I was a trainee for a few years, debuted at seventeen.”

“How old are you now?”

Mark laughed again, this time getting on Haechan’s nerves. “Twenty-five.”

“Why are you laughing?” Haechan asked quietly, hoping the camera didn’t pick out his frustration.

“Nothing, it’s just…” Mark swallowed another bout of giggles before continuing. “Everyone knows these things. It’s weird that you don’t.”

“Sorry I’m not a creepy fanboy who keeps track of everything,” Haechan scoffed.

“I actually like it,” Mark said, looking at Haechan through his lashes, cheeky. “Makes us even. I don’t know anything about you too.”

“I can just google everything about you, you know?”

“Why? Do you like me that much?”

Haechan nearly stumbled over his own feet. How the fuck did he walk into that one?

“You alright?” Mark said, holding him by the elbow, helping him up again, taking advantage of this chance to stand a little too close.

“There are cameras, Mark,” Haechan whispered.

“I’ll tell Johnny not to add these clips,” Mark whispered back. He turned towards the guy following them with a camera and gestured to the front. Without a word, the guy moved away, the lens focused on Johnny and the campus. “See?”

“Why are you here, Mark?”

Mark stayed quiet for a minute before speaking, letting the other walk away as they stood back in a hallway. “I had a feeling you were gonna ditch me. So I convinced Johnny to bring me along. He gets great views when I’m with him.”

“So you bribed your friend to get your way,” Haechan said. “Great. So like you, a celebrity!”

“What was I supposed to do? You ignore my texts, you refuse to give me your number, and you ditched me on our date.”

“Maybe take the hint?” Haechan said with zest. 

“And what about the other hints?” Mark asked, way too close suddenly. Haechan could smell musk and sweat on him, too distracted to move away before Mark’s fingers grazed his fever-warm cheeks. “This?” His thumb moved towards Haechan’s lips, sparking all the memories of kisses. “And this?”

A chorus of small children sounded near the hallway behind them, the end of Saturday morning class for eight-year-olds. Haechan wrenched apart from Mark, even though nobody came their way. They were still alone in an empty hall with nothing but the sound of distant voices and Haechan’s beating heart too loud in his ears.

“Are you and Jeno a thing?” Mark asked. “Is that why you won’t go out with me?”

“Jeno has a boyfriend,” Haechan said in a daze, mentally kicking himself a second later because he could’ve very easily used this to get Mark off his back. Apparently his brain didn’t want to.

“Then why won’t you go on a date with me?”

“I told you–”

“Stop thinking,” Mark said. “It’s a date.”

“And after that?”

“After that,” Mark said, coming closer again. “Hopefully, another date.”

“Mark–”

“Stop thinking,” Mark said. “You think too much.”

“I thought we were gonna be friends?” Haechan scoffed, looking down because he couldn’t face Mark again with his feelings laid out on his red cheeks.

“I didn’t know being friends and being romantically involved were mutually exclusive things.”

“They are.”

“But I wanna be friends with the person I like,” Mark said.

“This was your plan all along wasn’t it?” Haechan said, looking up with suspicion.

“Did it work?”

Haechan sighed. “One date,” he said, cursing himself and dreading what his friends would say once they found out about this.

Mark grinned, lopsided and almost shy. “Are you going to give me your number now?”

“Fuck you,” Haechan cursed, furious with himself because of how much like the idea of a date with Mark, and his smile, and his sparking wide eyes.

“I mean, I’m down if–”

“No! Shut up,” Haechan moved away, stomping angrily to find Johnny and the rest of the group, not even bothering to see if Mark was following him. Because of course he was, his warm laughter crawling up Haechan’s back, making him shiver.